First time

Like a thief too noble, the night lay waiting, afraid to intrude between them. The air-conditioning in the room hummed in a low murmur, almost self-effacing. The lights from the street peeked in through the blinds now and then, their curiosity abounding, but polite enough to refrain from trespassing.

They sat on the couch, the moment heavy with anticipation, their bodies numb with the common knowledge of their love.

He felt the staid air quiver with the imperceptible thumpings of her tiny heart. He felt her unhurried pulse speak the poetry of her soul into the small of his palm, its meter perfect, its rhyme effortless. And he felt it match with his.

They were breathing in an even, easy rhythm, she exhaling when he drew in his breath, and he likewise, as though each was afraid to rob the other of breath. The night was a creature now, alive around them, moving around in circles, feeding off their breath, pushing them closer.

He felt her draw closer, her head seeking refuge in his arms, and he let her be, his left arm around her. A wandering draught, cold and cunning, crept in through the slit under the door, and sought them out. He felt her shudder, her delicate body trembling under her clothes. Feeling protective, he hugged her tighter. And as he did so, felt the pressure of her ring against his chest. The ring he had given her. Today. This evening. When he had asked her. When, for one moment, he felt the world had stood still, bereft of its usual purpose, uncertain of what would follow. When, for the longest of seconds, he felt a million eyes upon him, upon them, a million breaths together held bated, a million hopelesly romantic wills, along with his, bidding her to say 'yes'.

And then she had nodded. Ever so imperceptibly. No, the answer had reached her eloquent eyes first, before flushing her high cheeks with the red of 'yes', before it became a smile that surprised her happy face, before she nodded. Before she mouthed the word, 'Yes'. And the world breathed again, along with him, content that love was alive, and went about its business.

He caught himself smiling. That moment seemed distant now. Yet so near.

She looked up at him, sensing him smile. A question started in her uncertain eyes, before his reassuring eyes answered, and then no words were needed. She smiled in return. And then they laughed. Not that boisterous laughter, but the quiet one that is a secret known only to those in love.

He held her by her chin. Their eyes locked in a moment of perfect ocular acrobacy. Not searching, but seeing the rest of their life in the other's eyes.

And then he kissed her.

For the first time.

The night erupted in joy, and stole into the spaces between them, cloaking them in its magic, feeding them with the life it had taken to sustain itself for this very moment. A light wind blew the blinds apart, and the lights crowded into the room from the street, silent witnesses to the story that nobody can tire of.

Leaving

The ticket flaps about in the breeze. Restless. Its reality imminent and ominous. The clock strikes 7. It's evening and it's raining outside. Another hour before I leave.

I'd stowed the ticket away when I'd come home. Consciously erased its memory. Didn't want any part of it. Didn't want to look at the date, didn't want to look at the flight number. Didn't want to think of going back. But now it lay upon the coffee-table, its red cover flapping joyfully, laughing at me and my folly, like a bad dream coming back to haunt.

I place my cell-phone on it. Silencing it. If only temporarily. Ah, my cell phone! Friend, lifeline, confidant...funny how inanimate things are until you attach a tiny bit of emotion to them, and they suddenly spring to life, acquiring a whole new dimension. I will miss the short-message-service chats, the late-night phone calls, her ring-tone...I think I'll miss my cell phone. Just because of all the emotions connected to it. Emotion. Isn't that what we are all built of?

I feel thirsty, but I don't feel like drinking anything. I look up at the clock -- 30 minutes till the cab arrived. I look at my suitcases -- neatly stacked together near the door. I'd spent a couple of hours packing them earlier today. Filling them with the smells of home and the hurriedly made memories. The smells won't last long, but I hope the memories do. Life is about making memories, apart from other things of course. Memories...of hours spent at R's place catching up on the movies I'd missed out on and pondering over where life was taking us; of those long walks down the beach with Rex in tow, sniffing at the snails on the shore; of that night when I told Mom about her; of the silence that followed when I felt like the loneliest man on earth.

I look at Mom. She's reading a book -- like always. She always sat reading a book before someone left. I wish she would say something -- say that she loved me, that she wished I didn't have to leave, that dad would have been proud of me, that she approved of my choice. But no, she continues reading.

15 minutes left, and I get up from my couch. My couch. Another memory. It even remembers my shape. I head for the balcony. It's here that I'm at my most peaceful. Our flat is one of the luckier ones in that the balcony looks out onto the sea. I lean on the parapet and look out. The night feels sad, and the rain makes it look as if it's crying. Rex trots over to where I stand, nuzzling against my jeans-clad legs, leaving traces of his fur. I wish he wouldn't, because I'll not want to wash the jeans later. I guess I'm stupid. I shoo him away, and he looks at me dolefully. Quizzical. I shoo him more and he walks away indolently.

The sea is peaceful, the waves calm, a gentle breeze drifts by. Oh, how I'll miss this! Trapped inside my lab at night, hearing the processor of my desk-top whirr itself mad, there is only one sound I want to hear -- that of the sea. And when it snows and I lie snuggled deep in my blankets, all I want is to walk on the shore, my feet sinking into the sands, the heat stinging my soles.

The door-bell rings. The taxi is here. Mom calls out to me. I walk quickly to her, and hug her. I take the ticket -- its reality imminent and ominous. I pick up my suitcases and walk out the door.

Remembering

I liked it when I could look and not feel.
But you are everywhere now.

In

The subdued drizzle
After
A night of rain.
The surrendering waves
On
A quiet shore.
The false freedom
Of
A doomed dawn.

In
The spirit of a speeding stream,
The ghost of a fallen leaf,
The moods of a sunset stained sky,

In

The corners of my room
I
Flee from.
The watercolour canvasses
Of
December and May.

In

The weak words
I
Forget to utter.
The pause between words
When
I lose myself.

You are
The deepest of my emotions,
The secret behind my thoughts,
The hand shaping my dreams...

You are
The pride driving my creations.

You are
Life.

***

I walked into office a few days ago and was doing my daily round of bloghopping when I noticed my counter screaming at me for attention -- a 100 more hits than usual! A little tracking and I found this and a mention at a friend's blog. Gee guys, you just made my day that day! Like they say, a little appreciation goes a long way. Thanks Ash and Ravi!