A Love Story: Viscous Hearts In A Volatile World

  VISCOUS HEARTS IN A VOLATILE WORLD    CHAPTER:1 – The Diary - There it was – My Diary. I grabbed it tight, switched on the table lights an...

 VISCOUS HEARTS IN A VOLATILE WORLD 

  CHAPTER:1 – The Diary

-There it was – My Diary. I grabbed it tight, switched on the table lights and sat up resting my head against the headboard. Ecstasy, fear and anxiety- an emotional ambivalence was all I felt rushing in me.

I dropped my bag on the leather couch as I entered the living area. The lights were dim, giving a yellowish-golden tinge to the room: perfectly complimenting the interior hues, I don’t really know how and when I started getting in depths of things of little value and it’s becoming a part of my personality now. I took a few more steps to find an empty cup lying under the table lamp, “he must be home”, I murmured to myself. Slowly placing the keys under the table lamp, I headed to the bedroom. I was halfway through the corridor when I heard music being played in a really low volume and my heart skipped a beat and jumped back to the memory lane all to remember the song- Girl Crush, which instantly made me smile ear to ear.                                                I

 turned the door knob to find it was already unlocked; I slowly opened it since I knew he must be sleeping. He was under the quilts and the temperature of the room was enough to make your bones freeze, he liked it this way and my body adapted well. Things happen differently when you’re in love, your body mind and soul gets auto synchrionized, for me love is not a high top destination, it’s rather: a journey- where you grow, learn, fall at times, choose separate paths : all to come back and continue the journey together. 

I carefully switched off the music player, took my side of bed without moving the air around him, “he must have been really tired”, I thought.

“You came, I was waiting”, he whispered slowly holding me by my arms; “Why didn’t you wake me?” he continued saying in his sleepy voice, which made me smile sheepishly.

“The way you were snoring made it clear you had a hard day, so me being a really nice girl who I am, thought to let you be”, I said ruffling his already messed hair. 

“You love this no?” he said with his furrowed brows. 

“This what?” 

“NOTHING” and he jumped over me.

“Don’t mess with me”, I almost howled, “Get down monster!!” I pushed him and he fell down the bed. We both laughed our heads out. 

“Enough of this hooligan behavior now come and sleep”

“OKAY!!” he uttered rolling his eyes.

“Took  medicines?” I asked arranging the bed sheet. He climbed up my side and held me by my waist holding me tight. “Yeah, what about yours?” he hushed in a really low voice.

“You alright mote?”  I looked at him, worried “do you need something?” I continued. 

“NO just stay here with me, I love you”, he nudged in me.

“I love you more, I’m here only just rest here, you want me to read you to sleep?” I asked caressing his hairs.

“Hmm…can  you just read me your poems?” his voice told me all.

I just nodded. I know why he is low, his thoughts and love are guided by fears and I understand this because somewhere I am also trapped in the same labyrinth that scares me at times. After all that has befallen it is tough, for both of us, it’s draining us mentally, but we both are trying to build a barrier of love around us that can protect us from this harsh universe. 

He lay on my lap, calm and serene, I ran my fingers on his cheeks and I noticed his childish but mature features in that dusky golden light of the lamp. I noticed how we both craved for this peace and tranquility and now when we have it we are losing it in the fear of losing it.

I turned to my side stretching my hands towards the bedside cabinet. I opened the third drawer, slid my hands in – there it was: My Diary.

I grabbed it tight, switched on the table lights and sat up resting my head against the headboard. Ecstasy, fear and anxiety- an emotional ambivalence was all I felt rushing in me. I gathered the courage, turned through the crisp, dusty pages: some colored, some torn, some stained- just like our life in these fifteen-long years. Aachman and I have known each other for 15 years now and I really can’t recall as to when I fell for this chap with messy hairs and mesmerizing eyes. This love makes me feel euphoric and peaceful at the same time. Now when I look back and reminisce I find myself lost in the pages that were inked with storms that shook us, love that rebuilt us, it’s blur but magical and still within us.

I notice a fat drop of tear rolling down my cheeks and splashing on a beautifully calligraphed page that read “VISCOUS HEARTS IN A VOLATILE WORLD”. It had some doodles made by Aachman at the corners and our initials etched randomly at one of the edge.

“Read no!! And do pat-pat too” Aachman said taking my palm in his hands. “Hmm...” I said kissing his forehead. I started reading it, throwing myself in the vulnerable past when for us fireflies were stars and unicorns were real.

The sun lay low

The horizon blurred,

Day and night intertwined with glow;

You stood beside the lamp post,

-Like a shadow unclear

It was one fine dawn :

We just lay there;