It Started With A Follow

10th Oct’16. 11:30 pm “Sir, can I follow you on your Facebook handle?” “On one condition.” “What is that?” “Only if you stop calling me Sir.” The two of them witnessed their first conversation, albeit randomly, on a Facebook writing page. It's so surprising how you meet people on the internet and the two of you click so instantly, and sometimes it takes a lifetime to click with a person you have been seeing everyday in your real life. Strange, isn't it? And that's exactly what had happened to them. They had just clicked, even though they were like the two sides of a river. She was an emotional being while he would never show his emotions. She was a dreamer while he was a realist. The only thing common between them was that none of them were in love. 15th Oct’16. 3:03 a.m. “Let's meet.” “Sure.” “When will you be free?” “Um, I have classes from Monday. And I have to go to the Church on Sunday.” “Today?” “So, today.” Both of them blurted out 'today’ at the same time. This was the day when they had first met. 15th Oct’16. 1:30 pm. Sorry, I am late. Saying this, she gave me a hug and then we started roaming around Connought Place. When I had looked at her, the first thing I noticed was her smile, how withered it was, and how hard she was trying to hide it. The next thing I saw was a girl, in all her ache and a heartbreak, standing next to me, trying her best to convey the world that smile that she hadn't fallen in love...let alone be a heart-broken. While we walked, we talked about anything and everything but books and TV series. “When we will meet, promise me, promise me that you won't talk about books and TV series.” This is what she had said before our meeting, and I was just following the orders. We wandered in Connought Place for around half an hour until we finally found the CCD nearby N-block where she had to collect her certificate from. Most of the time, she did most of the talking and I? Well, I was just listening to her as she spoke. She told me how uncertain she was of the time when she would finish her graduation, how she wanted to go to France and couldn't for some reasons, and how afraid she was if her parents happened to ask her about marriage. And I did nothing but listen to her. Sometimes, people just want to be listened to. They don't want your advice. They don't want anything. Just lend them your ears. That's all. Nothing more. 15th Oct’16. 3:30 pm We sat in the cafeteria of Alliance Française, sipping coke and eating white sauce chicken pasta. We were still talking. Technically, she was the one still talking. She told me how she hated that particular teacher who would often lash out on students who missed her classes. “Thank you for bringing me here. I have finally found a place where I can get good and cheap food,” I giggled. “First, you don't talk. And when you do, this is what you say! You are so bad,” she grinned. I laughed off. It was almost 6 and the cafeteria was about to close. We were the only two sitting. The sun had almost set and the darkness had stepped in. “What is your story?” she asked me suddenly. “Um, uh, I don't have any.” I answered, stammering. She didn't say anything but nodded. “Hey, let's go to Indian Habitat Centre. We'll sit there for some time and then we will go,” she said. As we were about to cross the road, she stopped and said, “I don't know how to cross the road.” I held her hand in mine and walked to the other side of the road, our hands still entwined. After a while, we reached IHC. While we were sitting, I asked her, “You want to tell me what happened with you?” Even before she could finish telling her side of the story, my hand was on her shoulder and her head resting on mine. No sooner, our lips had met. I could feel the tension in the moment and top of that, I could feel what was going on inside of her. After a while, we parted our lips. We sat for some more time there, in silence. As we got up to leave, she said, “Promise me you will write about this day.” “I promise,” I replied. Today, as I write about that day and think of it, I realise, by the end of that day, we were left with nothing in common. The tragedy of that beautiful day was that, she fell in love again and I? Well, I didn't, again. ©nomeee

Yes i am weak

"I know you are weak," She said to me, "and it is okay to be." For a moment, I felt stronger. Her words strengthened me. They were pure and truthful. I think if we let people's weakness breathe into them for a while, they would turn into their strength. At least they wouldn't feel ashamed of themselves and most probably they will be fixed again. Mislead motivation only adds up to the burden and do more damage than it fixes. Thou shall set them free into their skin. I believe brokenness in real is the manifestation of strength. ©nomeee

The stranger-turned-familiar-turned-stranger.

To, The stranger-turned-familiar-turned-stranger. You never expected me to write this, did you? But, here I am, with this piece, in the hope we might alter the equation, again. We accidentally bumped into each other, and it was one of those few times when I wasn’t afraid of the word “accident.” I wish for such more accidents. Or wait, do I? It was a beautiful accident, nevertheless. For once, you allowed me to sneak into your life and I, into mine. Unfortunately, things were confined to sneaking only. It never made to “enter.” I peeped into your life through the small window you had carved for me. You seemed like an angel with broken wings. You seemed like an ocean filled with mystery and secrets. I wanted to unravel all those mysteries and secrets. With this hope, I dived into you. But I never made it to the bottom? How could I? Buoyancy played its role well. Physics never fails to amuse me. You seemed cold from outside but deep inside – just like every other ocean out there – you were warm and soft, carrying a beautiful and amazing world – or adventurous, maybe? Who knows? I wanted to know more about you: What is your favourite food? Which restaurant do you like the most? Do you, like me, end up ordering the same food all over again, or you try new dishes every time you visit that particular restaurant? Do you like coffee or tea? Do you love the feeling when you walk on an empty road late in the night, and the wind suddenly strolls past you, hitting against your face? But, I never got the answers to these questions. [If you’re reading this, know that I will wait for your answers.] We ended even before we had started. They say, “Whatever happens, happens for good.” But, did we end for a greater good? If you know or figure out the answer, do let me know. You were like a gust of wind, came and strolled past me. In between, I experienced some adrenaline rush. You were like a wave of sea, touched me and vanished. Yours, The stranger-who-remained-a-stranger © nomeee