Washed again..

                   "So you mean to say that you want to leave me?"she mouthed the words, dreading the reply.
                   "Yes, I can't be with you anymore." he replied coldly.
                   "Don't you love me?" she prodded further
                   "Oh please! Don't start it again." he brushed her off.
                   "Why? Tell me why? Why did you keep tagging me along for 4 years?" she cried out.
                   "Just look at yourself! For God's sake you are creating a scene at the bus stop! You keep torturing the life out of me. You have drained me Maya. Please let me go" he shook her, holding by her arms. 
                    It was pouring. They were in the bus stop shelter. She had broached the topic again after a tiff with him. It was hard on her to give up on anyone let alone her own boyfriend of four years. They fought often over little disagreements which escalated to furious accusations and then she said something terrible, he reverted back with something more offensive and she would ask him if he wanted to leave her which he always replied in affirmative. It made her mad. Mad with rage. Mad with frustration. She would break down and blame him. He would feel sorry for her and try to calm her down but she wouldn't relent. After hours of nonstop fight, they would both give up and move on. Move on as if nothing happened. Their friends thought they made a terrible mistake when they would see them so mad at each other but would be in for a shock when they saw them so mad  for each other a few days later. Their relation was what could be called volatile. Yes that was the word- Volatile.
                     She stood beside him. He didn't look at her. They stood there for a long time. It started raining heavily. The small shelter was getting crowded by people who took a chance of not bringing the umbrella and street dogs! She knew he was getting desperate for his bus. He hated dogs, specially the roadside ones. She appeared to be in a trance. She leaned outside and reached out her hands. The water dripped on her palms.
                    " The water has travelled down the roof. Might have had bird droppings" he said.
                    "Eeew.." she pulled out her hand. 
                     She looked at him but he wasn't telling her. He was talking to the small girl who had her hand in line of the roof. She was dejected. She had forgotten that just moments back he had ditched her. Maybe their relation could take only this much. Maybe her love was smothering him. Maybe he had fallen out of love with her. Maybe he had found love somewhere else. Maybe he was already cheating her. The possibilities were many but she wanted to accept none. She couldn't face the harsh reality. The venom in her veins was gushing at full speed. She wanted to confront him. Ask him who the bitch was! With whom was he cheating her? Why wasn't she enough for him? Why did he always ignore her after a fight? Why did he not love her?
                      His bus was approaching the stop. He went out of the shelter and boarded the bus. He didn't look at her even once. Their love had just dried up in this rains..
                      Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. This was what it came to? Was this the end of everything they had? Her mind was a jumble. She needed to clear her mind. Think of it another day.. She walked out of the shelter and on to the street. She tread through the flooded streets. Streams ,through her cheeks, dripped down her chin. She was not sure if it was the rain or her tears. IT was a concoction of sweat and salt. Rivulets of water flowed through her body, branching and branching further to drench her completely. She trembled in the cold or maybe her weeping made her shudder. She lugged her body ahead but the fatigue was getting to her. She just wished she hadn't been foolish enough to start off in a huff. There was no auto in sight.
                      " Just stop" someone screamed at her.
                      She looked behind. It was him.
                      "Are you crazy? What are you trying to prove by walking here in the rains?" he shouted.
                      "Why do you care? I will do whatever I want!" She snubbed him and kept walking.
                      He paced to pull her back.
                      "Because you get cold every freaking time you get drenched you fool" 


                      They were in her house. She had changed into dry clothes and was drying her hair. He brought in coffee for both of them. She sat propped against the pillow.
                     "From where did you just find me?" she asked snuggling against him.
                     "I saw you walking but the bus had already started. Got down at the next stop and waited." 
                     "So what about our break up?" 
                     "God!! You still need an answer?" 
                     "AAAAACCCCCChoooooooooo" she sneezed into  her towel.
                     'Idiot, ofcourse I love you!" he laughed at her.


Not exactly fiction :P 

Downhill the memory lane

                 "Is there anything else we need? I think we are done." Mom answered her own question.
                  " Chalo, let us take an auto" volunteered the bored-of-ladies-never-getting-down-with-shopping brother.
                  " I think we can walk down. We really don't have so much bags today" I said.
                  "Is it okay?" she asked bro.
                   " See the road is downhill. We won't get so tired. Besides where do we get to walk in such clear roads in city" I reasoned.
                   "Ok" he gave me an exasperated look.

                     The house is literally at the foot of a mountain. The road starts at the market and goes downhill to our house. The sides of the roads were once jungles housing every wild beast of the region. It has now given way to mellowed down greenery and houses in between the large stretches of palm trees. Nevertheless the trees and the green is denser in the monsoon. Of course the rich red road is now tar grey. Walking on the road, one can see the bright houses of the countryside, large pastures with grazing cattles, a small tributary of the river flowing in a canal, a stream that is live when the rains are in excess, small shops by the roadside with old folks sipping tea or drinking soda sitting on the bench outside.
                                             

                        The three of us walked down happily. Dark clouds gathered above us as the winds started planting sloppy kisses on our cheeks. The rustle of the leaves, roaring clouds, the flying of the blue sheets over the roof of the shops made a symphony to welcome the drizzles of rain. At first, it was gentle like an ardent lover slowly consuming with passion. We walked through the pleasant showers. Three people in two umbrellas. We were about to start our climbing down when the rains opposed our movements. It became difficult to march forward against the force of the rains. Besides, we were getting drenched. We found a small shop by the road which had a large tin roof which could shelter us for sometime. We stood there waiting for the rains to slow down. 

                         " I told you it was a bad idea. See now we have to wait here!" bro said.

                         " Yea, we should have taken the auto." Mom joined him.

                         " Haww when did you both say that! Anyway it's not to late. We can walk back to the market and get an auto." I replied

                         " No no, that much if we walk, we will reach home. Better we stay here."

                         "Ok.." I said.  No more suggestions! 

                          

                      We stood there watching the water reach our ankles. We watched the winds scurry the rains here and there and making criss cross patterns of showers. We observed the ripples created by the raindrops. We watched the people in the shop on the other side of the road. A woman cooking sambaar in the shop. A few people taking shelter in that shop. The auto streaming through the puddles like a steamer.  

                       "Look! look at the auto splashing water! Here's another one! See" Mom was exclaiming like a 5 year old.

                       The rain sort of calmed down and we started again. We descended a few steps downhill and the rains lashed out again.  This time more breezy. All we could see was the dairy where a couple of men sat with registers tallying the exchange. Logs of wood lay in the front yard of the dairy. 

                       "Mom, let's wait here" I called out.

                       "No!! Let's keep walking. We will reach and anyway we are drenched. Won't make a difference." 

                       " Arre!! What if we slip and what if the rains get heavier. Mom think!! There is no shelter all the way till home!" warned my brother, skeptical as usual.

                       "Nothing will happen. Let's just slip through fast." I volunteered. 

                        

                       We paced with little steps, splattering water like little kids, walking one behind the other making a train of those childhood days so that we don't slip. Hurrying like little chickens. A few bikers passed us, smiling. We didn't care! 

                       "You know this road was just mud when I was a kid. Green algae grew here during monsoon. We used to come back from school at this time. We used to sit on the road and just slip all the way down. This was our natural slide. Longer than any at your Water Kingdom!" 

                      " What?? Mom you sat on road and went home sliding!! What fun" I was really jealous! Whatte childhood :D 

                      " You see that stream there? I used to go there to play and bathe in the water. It is only there during heavy rains. Otherwise its just stones there." She seemed to be nostalgic..

                         We reached the last bend in the road that led to the house and also the steepest slope. We could hardly control our steps. IT was like our legs had a will of their own and we felt ourselves drift in the narrow rivulets flowing with the road.. What joy!

                         "Bachpan yaad agaya!!" Mom shrieked in excitement.

                         Best monsoon :) 

                          

A love's ache

The soft bed, the cozy comforter and fluffy pillows give warmth amidst the monsoon chill. Seeing the empty space on my side brings back the cold.

The rain drops incessantly patter against the window. The absence of your sizzling touches pricks me.

The temptation of getting drenched in the rain is asleep. Without you, the fun of getting wet is a far cry.

Our favorite reading spot near the window beckons. Occupying it without you seems like a sin.

Our hot chocolate mug remains empty. There is no appeal in the steaming chocolate when you are not there to share.

The chill breeze flows into the room and sends shivers throughout my body. It cannot level with the sensuous tremours that your naughty smile creates in me.

The leaves are swaying in a dance with the breeze. They are no match to the dance of your eyes.

The naughty wind ruffles my hair. Your gentle hands playing with my hair is what I am longing for.

The view outside the window is peacefully pleasant. The missing image of you leaning against the window swallows the peace.

The house looks beautiful with the onset of monsoon. It does not become a home without you wandering around and chiding me for being lazy.

The earth's thirst is quenched. My thirst for you is still burning.

Monsoon is our favorite season but it is not as beautiful without you. Come home soon, my love. Without you, the beauty of monsoon remains just as memories.

Until later,

Keirthana :)

Wet Moon - Monsoon Memories

It started with a tiny drop

And then it started to pour

But we wanted to see each other

Temptation striking the core

In the pouring torrent

I reached the place all wet

Sitting there waiting for you

In the wonderful romantic set

You arrived five minutes later

Soaking wet but smiling wide

I could then see the love lorn man

As well as the innocent child inside

As we snuggled under the orange umbrella

Sipping our coffee piping hot

Your hand remained entangled in mine

Everything else then seemed the unnecessary lot

Our first tryst with monsoon shall always be the best

Where we were trying to understand the other

It was a steady ramp up since then

As the rain and love brought us together

The heavy rains continued to pour

It sure was a very wild season

Yet we couldn't stay a day apart

Getting caught in a downpour was not enough a reason

As we paddled our way through hours

An effort not once it did seem

Being together was the common goal

As we became the peers of our realm

Day after day we still met

In spite of the tearing and crying cloud

We didn't let anything stop us

Looking back now, I feel so proud

Be it standing under the shelter of a tree

Or you hurriedly zipping my jacket up

You've held me tight to prevent me from the chill

While I look cold like a lost wet pup

During last years rain, we were lovers

This time we get wet together as man and wife

As I watch you dance in the rain

I know God has given me the best ever life

Even though we had a mid summer wedding

Special shall remain the beautiful monsoon

The sun can shy away and hide

As you kiss me, under a wet moon

~ Soumya

Monsoon Memories - The Storm before the Calm

The rain outside drowned in the silence within. She felt the drops of water trace slow paths down her body, carving a sculpture in their own might, her clothes sticking to her drenched skin, protecting her, torturing her, slowly. She could hear the clouds rumbling in some far off world. She could hear her heart beat, her raspy breath, her dress moving against her skin. She could hear him.

Not a word had been said.

She cast a glance at him. Drenched, he stood in a corner, half in the shadow of the solitary bulb flickering threateningly in the middle of the broken down shelter. She saw the light reflected in his tormented face, his lips, his eyes. His eyes. The hollow seas, once stormed with emotion, distant, and calm. He blew out the last of his smoke from the degraded cigarette and tossed it in a corner, the smoke lingering around, in a futile attempt to hang on. The silence was thick, omnipresent, welcome.

Their eyes met.

Gently, she reached out to him, and placed her shivering hand on his chest. Drops of water from his skin followed her fingers, making their way across before she could stop them. The thumping of his heart drowned out the last of the silence, as she felt herself pulled into his arms, shivering uncontrollably as his warmth permeated her cold skin. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. The world she believed in, had ceased to exist. All that lived was that moment, that touch, that oneness, that safety. That moment, when they realized they were no longer alone. That touch, to complete what their souls had known long ago…to complete each other, to be one, together, in each other’s arms. His hands were strong but gentle. His lips were probing, searching against her skin for a home once dreamt of. His skin amalgamated into hers, burning its way into hers, one, the way it was meant to be.

The storm that ensued put the rain to shame, as they spent the night in each other’s arms, clinging on to a hope they hadn’t known existed till then.

As the first rays of the sun shone through, their eyes met. His eyes. The seas tormented by the storm within, the calm long gone, hope struggling its way through.

She felt her skin, bruised, thriving, burning with the memories of the night before. She felt him within her, inside her, consuming her every breath. She knew then that she was his, completely, with the very last breath in her body. She saw him tip his head in her direction, and step out in the sun.

Life as she knew it, had cruelly altered its course.

And not a word had been said.

A raindrop on my cheek

You ever felt so cold, you had to put on your woolen socks, wear the warmest sweats, put on a hoodie and rush to the bed, to envelop yourself in a soft, warm, fluffy blanket? You could feel your body dissolving under the covers like butter melting on a toast. You hear a very delicate sound of someone playing Hotel California on their acoustic guitar, next door. A cloud just thundered with an echo. You peek outside the window to watch the sky drizzle, like a shower of tiny diamonds.

You watch a leaf bow a little, after catching the first drop and getting back at its posture to drench completely, crafting tiny beads on itself. A graceful bird just flew under the tree, sat on the branch and flapped its wings. The wind is being the maestro and playing a symphony on your wind chimes. Your apple-cinnamon candle just blew off, leaving a trail of sweet, mushy scent.

Just when you are sensing the moist chilly breeze in your eyes, your loved one comes to offer you a hot cup of coffee with a kiss. You feel the warmth of the cup in your cold hands and experience every vein getting warm again. The gushing wind sways your hair and leave tiny droplets on your cheeks. 

You turn on the television, to see your favorite movie just getting started. You melt more in to your blanket, rest your back on the spongy pillow and take the first sip of your hot coffee. 

Yes.... that. That feeling....

You ever felt that?

Dhara

Monsoon Memories

The rains make me feel and bring back a lot of things: playing in puddles, paper boats that turn to slush, hot chocolate, old Enid Blytons, sneezes, Mom's pakoras, fresh greenery, people complaining about the cold and the damp that I love.... 

But the Bangalore rains seem to bring out one more emotion from within - romance. So I sit by my window, watch the drops trickle down and spread their chill and try to write to the bottom of it all, the only way I know how. 

In the monsoon, I remember steamed up windows, a tangle of arms and legs under the big fluffy duvets and huge cream white pillows. 

In the monsoon, I remember the coziness of crawling into your lap as you try to work on a project, successfully distracting you and curling up against you with my lips at the thudding pulse on your neck.

In the monsoon, I remember waking up early to make you a hot cup of elaichi tea that clears foggy memory and brings back images of last night.

In the monsoon, I remember falling asleep on the crook of your shoulder comforted by your warmth, satiated by your presence.

In the monsoon, I remember skipping puddles with my short legs, or trying to, as you, long legged and built like a bull, stand on the other side, trying hard not to laugh at my puny efforts.

In the monsoon, I remember the sight of the light rain dusting your luxurious hair with drops that you comb through with your hands, making you seem that much hotter that my stomach clenches with unusual lust.

In the monsoon, I remember your big ham hands around my small, pudgy ones trying to get them to warm up just a little bit and your sighs of frustration when they don’t.

In the monsoon, I remember fan wars. You can’t sleep with it switched on. I can’t sleep with it switched off.

In the monsoon, I remember the look you shoot at me from across the room speaking of all those things that you, we, could be doing instead of being stuck there.

In the monsoon, I remember that wicked glint in your darkening eyes that I have come to know as the precursor to things I dare not speak of in the light of day.

In the monsoon, I remember the rain beating down at the window that does not distract you from your true intent.

In the monsoon, I remember the day you proclaimed in front of the world that I am yours, the day you made me yours forever.

The monsoon. The memories.
All of ours start and end from there, don’t they?