Waved

By Parul Singh

He always waved me while departing. I, on the other hand, never responded to his waves. I believed that no matter how long it's gonna take him, he will return. So, I used to wait.

I would change the curtains of his favourite corner where he loved to sit while writing; that corner witnessed every single emotion of his which he kept away from his people. Me included. I would arrange all the papers which had his writings spilled all over them; keep light pink roses in the vase which was gifted to him by his best friend who left him a couple of years back; prepare a cup of hazelnut coffee and cheese pasta.

Also, I made sure to not touch his bookshelf which was filled with a good number of books arranged haphazardly, bookmarks peeping from anywhere and a few pages making noises for no reason.

He always joked that how grateful he was for I never touched his bookstore!

But then, he would also tell me that I put more efforts than required. I shut him up and hugged him every time he returned.

I was in awe of him. In awe of his ability to tell me about that scar behind his left earlobe. That scar always intrigued me and I wished to know the story behind it.

In the beginning, I couldn't converse with him. I hold myself way too much and stammer whenever our conversations started getting deeper than usual. On numerous occasions, I left the conversation midway. There was something really heavy inside my heart which hurt me whenever I talked. To avoid that pain , I preferred to not talk at all.

This man was aware about what I was going through. Or so I thought because each day, he captured my emotions on paper. I cried while reading them. For the first time, I stayed there. I noticed how that heavy thing kept losing itself bit by bit.

I was in awe of his ability to make me fall in love with my fears.

I remember his gleaming eyes when we went inside our house together. That morning, he hugged me so tightly that I was literally crushed! We created spaces; and removed some.

I remember how I rubbed his palms and planted a kiss on his forehead when I got to know that his childhood wasn't his favourite period through one of his write ups.

On one of those evenings, while dancing to my favourite song, all of a sudden he told me how thankful he was for having me. That evening, he let me see his side, the one which had everything he hid well beneath his tattoos, blabbers and smile. I witnessed the scratched, pierced, and injured walls of his heart.

He gifted me a box of chocolates and promised to stay until the universe permitted to.

"Forever". I cut him in between.

He hushed me and said that forever is a myth. I couldn't protest even though I wanted to. His words always reflected the universe's plan.

For the first time, instead of turning back to wait, I stood there with my eyes frozen on him and my palms as cold as ice.

It has been five years since then and his thoughts randomly knocked at my door every now and then.

Everyone told me that he wasn't going to come but I know he will.

You see, he didn't waved me that night.

By Parul Singh