02 April 2009

Untitled

Never let people grow on you to the extent they overcome you. Then, every small step of theirs causes a butterfly effect in your life.
Life's too precious, too important for that.
At every point of my life, i meet people, who grow on me, absent-mindedly. I need to stop that.
Need to cut it out!

01 April 2009

Damnation

The little girl smiled at her father through the car window, waving back at him from the confines. The father held back a sigh, and put his best face on to wish his child goodbye, the mother sitting in the driving seat, trying not to look in his direction. The little girl's expression changed from a smile to a straighter face when she realised her fears were real, her father wouldn't be going with her. As the car started crawling, her waving became less enthusiastic and more lost, waving like one does to clear thick mist or haze. She cocked her head in the direction of her father for as long as she could and when the car turned a bend, she was gone.
The father let a tear drop down his cheek, he had never thought it would really come to this. Everytime, separation seemed a possibility, he thought such things happen to people in movies, and not normal people like him. Normal people who go to the office, work hard all day, come home, have a beautiful wife waiting, a beautiful daughter to tell stories to, things for these people seem perfect. Perfect but all of sudden they're made to realise life isn't a movie. Things could go wrong all of a sudden, and could stay that way. Happy endings aren't a compulsion.
He turned his back on the road, almost making a metaphorical statement as to never get out of seclusion again. But he knew picking up his pieces was the important thing to do. Yes it would sting, but it had to be done. He'd see his daughter again, maybe after months, but she'd never be the same. She'd know she could live without her father. She'd have understood that he was never an essential part of life for her, he thought. And then, he'd remain a nominal figure in her life. She'd call him dad, but wouldn't be with him. How unlucky to have someone who could care, and let them go.

He went inside and looked at his wife's picture, her flowing name of hair took his heart away the first time he had seen her years back, and now it brought only painful memories. Her eyes looking at him, though now he knew they had stopped looking for him anymore, her nose her lips, all belonged to him once, now seemed part of a beautiful portrait. Her slender hand underneath her chin gave him aching reminiscences. He remembered the hand from all the long walks around the endless web of streets, pointlessly roaming around, hand in hand. He remembered the hand from the first time he asked her out for marriage, the first ring he gave her, the first promises they took, the first time she held their daughter, the first day she took her to the new school, but most of all, he remembered the hand that signed heartless piece of paper, that decided his Damnation. He hated every bit of the picture and he loved every bit of it.
All this was too heavy for him to hold back so he let go. The walls listened in silence as his tears slid down his cheek into and around the slit of his lips. He sat down, half embarrassed at his weak self, at his helplessness.
That very moment he questioned his beliefs about his ego, his own selfishness, his selfrespect. He wished he could turn things back, and he'd be more careful. But life doesn't give two chances to everyone. He knew he had burnt all his ships, and the ashes were slowly being swallowed by the sea of time. One day, he'd probably learn to live with it, but this wouldn't be a solution. This'd be another kind of Damnation!