Sunday, May 4, 2014

A Walk To Remember

 We belong to a generation where love is too mainstream and commercialized and from the days of being a complex emotion it has become a full blown obsession
 Prajavala (P) the typical Delhi Uber cool girl, the proper fashioniesta who probably learnt the catwalk before she could talk

 Anita (A) the usual mom with a tongue in cheek demeanor, a doting mother but her sarcastic retorts sometimes rubbed Prajavala the wrong way

P: Mom I think I have found my soul mate!
A: Soulmate as in SOUL or SOLE because this the third guy you are telling me about, and I am appalled by your lexicon and wonder if you mean Soulmate as the one you go to shoe shopping with?
P: Enough already mom! He is truly the one, a proper gentleman, he knows how to treat a lady and yet be assertive, and he exudes confidence.
A: hmm or maybe you just like the cologne he wears, anyway what's his profession?
P: He is an entrepreneur and brings in new ideas to the........
A: So basically his dad is rich right?
P: Yeah but he runs his own company, anyway mom he makes me feel special, I glow up like a firefly around him, I truly value his calm and composed nature
A: oh sweetie you are special, I knew that when you hit your head three times in a row when you were young, and I am sure it’s a tough job to be calm and composed in the stressful environment of a lounge or a restaurant not all men can do that !
P: Forget it mom, your generation will never understand what true love is, I wonder how dad fell for you though?
A: look at your nose honey that's one thing you got from your dad and you hate it, imagine being stuck with his entire face, it's not like he had a choice.
(Prajavala storms out annoyed and infuriated, and Anita could not help but laugh at the situation)

 Anita after the usual chores gets ready to visit Praful

 On The way she stopped to pick up some roses and yet again cursed Praful under her breath anita always wondered how strange it was that Praful always made her buy flowers she knew that in their relationship lay the essence of a divine satire, she was the pragmatist and Praful the emotional fool

 The bus was effectively empty that day and the absence of all the commotion sent her to a trip down the memory lane.
 Visions of the flamboyant haircuts, the step cuts and not to forget the mithun style bell bottoms that Praful used to sport in their youth the numerous scooter rides and the secret calls from the telephone booths.

  She remembered the time they fell in love, then their marriage and how they kept the romance alive.
 Her thoughts drifted back to Prajavala's incredulous notions, she wondered how people travel to exotic destinations to rekindle their love, of the escapades to Switzerland and Bahamas and was amused as to how the times have changed, all it took for them to keep the fire alive was a kulfi together.
 She witnessed Praful's evolution, she saw how a boy turns into a man when they hold their kids in their arms she remembered how he who found it daunting to sit out an entire lecture, submit to a morose desk job, Maybe that was the reason Prajavala never saw the love between them, they were caught up in the pangs of parenthood
 
 She glanced through the window; it was dreamy outside and relived the moments which have passed, the jokes, the tomfoolery, moments where they talked just for the pleasure of hearing each other's voice and the times of silence when their eyes did most of the talking. And for a brief period of time she could feel a warm hand upon hers
How foolish of her she thought, to miss him just before she was about to meet him


 She saw a young girl look at the roses with longing and then it struck her, maybe Praful was saving money by making her buy flowers, he was a Casanova maybe he had a fling
 With a sly smile she walked towards the gate
 P: here, keep them if you want they were for my husband, but I think he would want you to have them

She got down the bus, it was still a short walk down a Boulevard, she wondered about the great romances people talk about the ones too good to be true perhaps that's why their story was not perfect it was just good enough, humming Praful's favorite song she trudged along

(Meanwhile the girl with the roses wondered, how someone could be so cheerful before walking down a cemetery)

Anita finally met Praful and even though he was lying beneath an obelisk, she could still feel his Smile and sitting beside him she said

   "Sorry dear, no flowers for you today"

2 comments:

  1. Sarcasm and love at their best! It's surprisingly simple yet stunning! You have all the ingredients to become a versatile writer. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. You had to have this. What a vivid descript of a powerful storyline. Often being carried away by the emotions you pen, is worth the pain of googling a word in every paragraph you write.

    ReplyDelete