7 missed calls

1:00am.

7 missed calls. I saw it happening.

The night sky almost made it impossible for me to rationalize. But wait! I shouldn’t be messing him up.

I let the phone ring till it stopped.

.

.

A peek into the past

At the studio door, when I was losing the battle…unable to take sides between my friend and him, I flustered… I felt a tear slide down. And, as quickly as I wanted to hide this sign of immaturity, he saw me.

Then…, it wasn’t about hiding the tear or wiping it off. It was about ‘where do I hide??’ He keeping a check on me through the corner of his eyes, still fighting the battle.

“Say me something honestly, … why did you cry? “- he whispered curiously, looking straight into my eyes. Astounded by the comfort the statement imparted, I said, “Something happened… I couldn’t fight! ”

He left it there. I thought he understood.

.

.

Present-

Next morning. 8:00am.

Another missed call.

‘Did he just behave like a boyfriend? ‘ (I thought)

A sly grin to that thought and I corrected myself with, ‘Did you not behave like a girlfriend when you texted him, “Hi, Can we talk? ” at 12:40 am, two days back, being miserable with your bullshit thoughts about death. Crying over the characters of ‘This is us’?? ‘

I planned on calling him back that evening. As always, I didn’t say him the real reason for texting him. I didn’t say him that while I was really in my darkest thoughts that night seeing visuals of myself thinking about how will I ever deal with my parents death later, the only thing that made sense to me then, was to calm myself down by wrapping him up in my arms.

At that moment, I texted him, ‘Hi, Can we talk? ‘ (2 days back at 12:40am!).

.

.

.

Evening conversation :

Me: “Hello! How are you? How have you been all these days?”

Him: “Fine, I have my exams coming up next month. Now say me, what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh! Nothing!”, I lied. “Say me if anything important happened in your life in all these months that we didn’t talk? Wanted to catch up! ”

Him: “Where were you when I called you last night? You weren’t asleep. Were you? Anyways, you know, I lost my aunt on my birthday last year and I had to go to the funeral and carry out all the rituals. ”

“That’s a sad thing to happen on a birthday.”, I empathised. “I suppose this was your first time experiencing death of a close person. It must have been very difficult. ”

“Oh! No no no! Not at all. This wasn’t the first time. I witnessed two more deaths earlier. I have learnt to face it. “, he said bravely. “BTW, I am glad you called. I guessed something was wrong when I saw the text yesterday. I wish you had picked up my call though. Everything fine?”

Dodging the question completely, and almost dragging through the conversation with small talks, I realised, I got my answer. He perfectly answered my anxious questions regarding death.

I have to face it one day!

To be honest, I didn’t have the nerves to receive the call that night. I didn’t know how to address my fears. I always play my ‘adult, older and sensible’ card. But I fail, everytime. It doesn’t work. Everytime, he says exactly what I need to hear, even though I don’t confess the real issue. What do you call a relationship like this?

I know not.

He is like sunrise.

An abstract painting, not worth words;

Not worth dots or straight lines.

He is like love…,

almost…,

in a parallel world.

He is my letter full of scratches,

He is a clear water lake.

He is…

He is like love…

almost…,

in a parallel world.

.

.

.

This is him. This guy always leads me somewhere positive. I can’t weave enough words for him. If you ask me again if I love him? I know not.

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