Love: Unreturned and Incomplete

Standing on the ledge of hostel’s rooftop it’s all quiet up here. There is no glittering moon, or the stars. The sky is swelled by the thundering clouds.  This has always been my spot, away from everyone in solitude, where I can be all by myself and be as I like to be. But I don't know why it is as such, that the way it used to lighten up the mood is not same anymore. Everything has changed. Time has passed. I never thought it would fly that fast. It’s been a year now but it still feels like yesterday when writing Shayaris, bunking classes & waiting for her to be online (while listening to some songs like ‘Dil Ibadat’, ‘Tere Mast-Mast Do Nain’, ‘Top of world’etc. etc.) were the only activities which kept me busy all day. It was nice to have someone around, whom I could trust and can talk about anything.

I still remember every moment I spent talking to her. From teasing to cracking silly jokes, listening to her nonsense and talking nonsense back, I never knew when she had carved a space in my heart. We shared poems, even discussed technical subjects or deep philosophies for long hours… and when the verses had ceased to flow and there was nothing left to talk about, we just flirted. It was nothing serious to begin with, but looking back now, I miss those moments every day.

Since then many things have changed. This wasn’t a No String Attached situation. There was more complexity than I could anticipate. Something I hadn’t given a thought. Scars left at that point of time have deepened, countless tears have been shed. Her laughter still echoes; her smile still lights up the dark corners of my heart. I think about her and remember her lines “Yaar! Hamara to Make up se pehle hi Break up ho gaya! Sometimes when I lay awake in my bed in the midst of the night it feels terrible to know that I will not be able to be with her ever. In such moments of anguish, I repeatedly dial her number; only to disconnect before it starts ringing. It hurts a lot not being able to talk to her. It hurts to lose a good friend like her. Most of all, it kills me inside as I struggle to cope with the depths of my loneliness.

Can you imagine the heaviness in your heart if you were to walk along a dark road with the rain thrusting heavily against your body as you cried? You shed tears for her; every droplet of it longing for her; for her well-being. You pen down many a Shayaris as memoir to her love. Your friends praise you for it; trying to comfort you, trying to cheer you up, but you remain completely empty inside. Battling the pangs of separation, as you replay the conversation you had with her, you wish if it could be changed. You wish if the situation could have been different. At that very moment you yearn just to be with her… hold her hands or watch her stroke away the curls from her eyes. God, you want to hold her, hug her with all your love, and never let go. But then, like a sudden bolt from the heavens, it strikes you that it’s not going to happen. Dreams, fantasy and imagination never translate to reality. 

You stand there on the wet concrete, feeling the hardness of the rain against your body while it soaks through every inch of you hushing into your consciousness; you wonder if she loves you back even the smallest fraction of the love you have for her.

She might have moved on in her life, and this might have been just another case of one-sided, unrequited love. But she will always have a special place in my heart. She was the one who made my Shayaris come to life. She is the one who made possible the transformation of a nascent poet, buried somewhere inside me, into the Shayar that I am now. Whenever I will look back in time, revisiting those wonderful moments in my solitude, I will remember her as the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

Back to the rooftop, I am still standing here all alone; while the cold breeze caresses my body, while the world outside is buried in cold slumber. It seems I am the only unhappy soul on this earth. Looking up at the night-sky, I see a flash of lightning, followed by the roar of thunder. And in these moments, I can feel the rush of a thousand heartbreaks as I breathe heavily with the realization of a love unreturned and incomplete. 

Dil Ka Har Kona Ab Viraan Hua Pada Hai
Teri Umeed Thi Jo Hasa-Khela Karti Thi !!

Painting Credits: Amrita Sengupta