Aathira Jim's Blog, page 17

J - Jasmine

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I watch her get dressed for her wedding; she made a beautiful bride. The ruby red of her saree complimented her skin tone, the wedding jewelry was handpicked by her mother specially for the grand occasion. The bangles caressed her hands, the jasmine buds kissed her hair. I'm however, busy clicking pictures, capturing each perfect moment of her special day through my lens. Each shot frozen in time; her smile reaching her eyes in all of them. 
Sometimes, she looks up at me and smiles, a rosy glow on her cheeks which I know is not the effect of any makeup. She is my best friend. And today, she is stepping into another phase of her life. Like most friendships, I know that this would change our relationship forever. 
Was I in love with her? Who am I kidding. It wasn't love. It never was. Did I have a crush on her? Couple of years back I had asked myself the same question. Maybe she felt it too. Which was why when I had kissed her that night she didn't resist me. She simply closed her eyes and gave in to my kiss, almost as though she had been expecting it all night. 
I still remember that night clearly. It was the night of a friend's engagement party. She was dressed in a midnight blue lehenga that brought out her dark eyes. The crystals on them shone in the moon light as she moved. But what mesmerized me were the jasmine buds she had woven into her hair. Maybe she knew what it was doing to me as she continued to flirt with me on our drive back. 
The locks of her hair that came undone when I had pushed my hands in them as I kissed her had the sweet fragrance of jasmine in them. The same scent lingered in my car long after she left, reminding me of what we had and what we could have been. 
And today, the drops of water that was sprayed on the jasmine buds to keep them fresh throughout the day reminds me of the beads of sweat that had formed above her upper lip just before I had kissed her. I shake my head. This can't happen now. It was too late. I click a final picture before she leaves the room all decked up as the gorgeous bride. She looks back and gives me a wistful smile. 
Maybe, in this life we are not meant to be, Darling girl. But there would come a time when you are you and I am me and we can love each other honestly. Until then, I wish you nothing but all the happiness that you so deserve. You are magic. And you were mine. Don't ever forget that. 




Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

I - Innocence

"Aparna! Come inside. Now!" Her mother's shrill voice rang in little Aparna's ears as she continued to play with Kuttan, her maid's three year old son. 
Seeing that her daughter had no intention of getting up anytime soon, her mother came outside to the ground and dragged her inside forcefully. She did not see Kuttan's tear filled eyes or her daughter's look of contempt for her.
"How many times do I have to tell you that you are not to make friends with children beneath your status! Here, take your Kids's tablet and go play some video game in your room." Saying that she was quickly dismissed by her overtly social status conscious Mom. 
Outside, Kuttan went crying to find his own mother. That afternoon two souls lost their innocence.

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

H - Hobby

My first attempt at Doodling :)
We all have hobbies, don't we? For some, it may be some sort of collections like coins or stamps, reading, painting, swimming and so on. A hobby can be defined as "an activity done regularly in one's leisure time for pleasure."
Reading, writing and blogging that had started off as hobbies for me quickly turned into a passion. Yes, I can't imagine a single day without reading or writing. As a kid, I used to love to draw. But like all things that happen as we grow up, it was soon forgotten, casually dismissed as being too childish by my grown up self.
And recently, all thanks to social media, I discovered something called as doodling. Now, the thing about drawing doodles is that anyone can do it. You need not have to be an expert, nor does the doodle have to be perfect. With that comfort in mind, I sat down one morning and with the help of YouTube, created the above doodle. How's it? :D
Learning something new is so much fun. And once I started doing it, I realized that I miss the thrill of learning and doing something new, unlike childhood days when we would jump in head first and think later when it came to any activity, for that matter. 
So, tell me, when was the last time you tried learning something new? Do you have any sort of unusual hobbies? Let me know!
P.S. I'm working on the remaining parts of Gouri (yesterday's post) in my head. Shall publish it soon, hopefully.

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

G - Gouri

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I'm caught between the past and the present; a place that's between the earth and the heavens. I am Gouri. I can feel the wounds inflicted on my skin, the marks already wedged deep beneath my skin. The caked, dried blood on me reminds me that though I can't feel anything, I'm badly hurt. 
That's when I see him. My warrior. Fighting for my life and his. Even lying here I can't help but gaze at him. He wields his sword in quick, deft strikes, killing one opponent after another. His face is masked by the iron helmet he wears, leaving only his eyes unguarded. As soon as the last opponent falls down, he rushes to my side. 
"Gouri... Don't go. Stay with me..." His words are a soothing lullaby. I want to tell him to not to hold me so close, that it's hurting me, and him too from the pain in his voice. I can feel my eyes closing. I smile. I'm finally safe. He is here. 
"Gouri.. Gouri! Wake up!" I can hear a voice calling me from a place far away. 
I open my eyes. 
Standing by my bed with an exasperated sigh on her face, my mother tells me "It's past eight in the morning. You simply have to stay up late each night of the vacations, don't you!"
"Hurry up and get dressed. And come have your breakfast." Saying that she leaves the room. The smell of coffee lingers in the air in her wake. 
I'm harshly brought back  to reality. Had I simply dreamt it all? The remnants of the dream are quickly starting to evaporate like hot vapors. I can feel something twisting inside me. Why couldn't I have woken up after seeing his face? My warrior's. All I'm left with is a pair of kind brown eyes that had so much of love. So much of warmth in them. Strangely, they remind me of glowing embers. There was something else about him. Something that I had missed as I opened my eyes. Something that I couldn't put my finger on. Not yet. 
I will myself to fall back to sleep. But as always, it deludes me when I need it the most. Refusing me another step back into the dream. I finally give up and throw back the covers and get up. 
Looking in the bathroom mirror, I'm startled to see my bloodshot eyes. There are dried tear stains on my cheeks. My whole body aches. As I look down at the stabbing pain on my left arm, I'm shocked to see a thin trail of blood flow down my elbow. The wound is not deep, but sharp and thin enough to pierce my skin, as though made by the graze of something sharp, like a sword. 
I feel a chill go down my spine. What have I gotten myself into? 
To be continued... 

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F - Fair

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Fair, smart and good looking bride required for Hindu boy, 28 working as an advocate in a well established firm. For further details, contact...
Anjali rolled her eyes at the matrimonial ad that her parents had marked in the news paper. What was it with Indian men and their obsession with skin like Snow-white's? She had never understood the logic. Sure, she hailed from a well to do and educated middle class family; but when it came down to her complexion, they had tried all they could to mask her face in so much powder and make up in an effort to hide the dark skin beneath. The end result ended up in her looking garish, turning her otherwise healthy skin a sickly grey pallor. 
When she was in her teens, she had spent all her pocket money buying creams that promised fair skin in a matter of weeks. Other than her pocket growing a huge hole, it did nothing to her chocolate brown skin. It remained the same, reluctant to lighten. Anjali had hated going to weddings and other social gatherings where the so called well-wishers would pull her aside and give her tips for home made remedies that they swore would work if she stuck to it religiously. Others were not so discreet. She could feel the sly sniggers and dirty looks that the other girls gave her when she left their crowd. 
As she grew up, she realized that having a dark skin tone was not the end of the world. She was blessed with glowing skin that was free of blemishes. She learnt that with the right colored clothes and make up to suit her tone, she looked attractive. Her life changed on a Sunday afternoon when she went to get her hair done. The hair dresser praised her thick black locks. He recommended her to a makeup artist who did magic with a few strokes of his brushes, and she could hardly recognize herself as she looked in the mirror, when he finished. 
Slowly but gradually, she regained her confidence in herself. However, at almost thirty years of age, she was her parents living nightmare. An unmarried daughter at a certain age with a certain complexion was deeply frowned upon in the society. Love had deluded her. She had fallen in and out of love, but had never found the one she wanted enough to spend her rest of life with. 
Dismissing the newspaper ad, she took out her pen and began to write her own matrimonial ad in the notepad lying beside it.
Groom wanted for a well educated, independent girl. Said girl is neither fair nor demure. Neither does she believe in cliches. She is looking for someone who can accept her for who she is and not who she could be. P.S. The dark skin is here to stay. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

E - Enchanted

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The first time she held the book in her hand, she experienced a deep satisfaction, one so profound that it sent tingles of excitement along her spine. The book was old, its pages were sepia tinted as a result of lying unused for years. The cover was dusty as she spotted the book lying in a corner of the used bookstore she visited frequently.
She had discovered some masterpieces in this dingy room. She had found love, hope and ecstasy in those pages. It was here that her soul often found answers to those questions that plagued her life. Sometimes she discovered books on the front shelf, proudly displayed for the world to see. However, those truly priceless ones that were her pride and joy now were discovered in the dustiest corners of the shop. Hidden from plain view, these books awaited a new home, a new reader to whom it could reveal its secrets.
That was when how she unearthed this treasure. She held the book close to her chest, where the warmth from the book flowed to her beating heart. No matter what the price, she had to have it. She was enchanted by the power that was bestowed upon her.
The price she paid for the book was not much but its value was priceless. That night, as she sat by her desk, for the first time, instead of picking up a book to read, she picked up her pen. Flipping through the leather bound book, she felt a wide smile breaking on her face. The pages were blank. Picking up the book in the bookstore earlier that day, she knew that she was meant to fill in those pages. With stories, her stories. 
As she started writing the first line in it, she had no idea that it would quickly progress into a full length novel. Nor that it would fetch her immense recognition and popularity. All she knew right then was that giving a voice to the story in her head was all that mattered. And without a shadow of doubt in her mind, she began to write.

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

D - Death

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It has been five years now. Five years since you left me. Yet the pain refuses to diminish, lodged in my heart like a prickling thorn that refuses to come off. 
Will I ever be whole again? Will I ever learn to love anyone after you? I gave you a part of me, one that you carried away to your grave. 
Death may have taken you away from me, but I shall wait till the end of time for my soul to be reunited with yours once more. 


Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

C - Cupid

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I watch them across the table clinking their glasses together, my best friend and his girlfriend. I had not wanted to be a part of their second month anniversary together. But they had insisted. I was after all, their cupid, as Max had so playfully put it. Shay has been my roommate all throughout college. And Max was a friend of a friend. I was the one who had introduced them at a farewell party that was thrown for our seniors. 
As days went by, I saw them get closer and closer. Max had this thing about her, that drew you right in. Was it in the way she flicked her hair backward as she was talking to you? Or was it her ability to draw you right in and make you feel like you were the center of her universe? All the boys were swooning after her. So you can only imagine Shay's delight when she took to hanging out with him. 
I watch her lean in closer and kiss him across his cheek. I could feel my face grow hot. It felt like I was interrupting something intimate. I wanted to run away but my feet seemed rooted to the spot. I saw her linking hands with his under the table, away from my prying eyes. I wish I could tear my eyes away from them. Each moment felt like pure torture. 
It was Shay who had insisted that I be there for their celebration. I knew that Max wanted to spend time alone with him. Yet, here I was, by some cruel twist of fate. I knew that this scene would continue to haunt me as I lay down to sleep that night. Shay would be spending the night at her place. He had told me that earlier today with an embarrassed grin. 
Why is it that I seem to be the only one who was stuck in the past? I had never gone looking for love. I was content. But love, the nasty culprit, creeps into your heart when you are not looking. And all of a sudden, the mere rustle of fingers turns into a lingering touch, those secret smiles between two people are encrypted with meaning that only they can decode, there was joy in hanging around doing nothing simply because being with them was enough.
Love had swept me away. I found love in my roommate. Shay. But was it all my imagination? Was I nothing more to Shay other than a roommate and a friend? That drunken night where we shared a kiss was still a vivid memory that I guarded fiercely. In the comfort of our room; our breaths laced with whisky and smoke. The walls around me had come down in his touch as he tugged away my clothes and made love to me all night. It was a strange sensation, but also oddly familiar, like my own body. 
He was in the shower when I woke up. Preferring not to talk about it, like he always did when something was bothering him. That was the night he had met Max. Did he hook up with her simply to prove a point to me? Or in his heart, did he really know that he would never have with her what he had with me? Or, I'm afraid to even voice this out aloud, was he ashamed of who he was? Of who I was when I was with him? 
I excuse myself and get up from the table, mumbling an excuse about an assignment that was overdue. I can feel his eyes piercing my back as I turn around. I know that I can never be Max, not that he cared. I was, after all, a man. 

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B - Better

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Why is it that we are always looking for something else even when we seem to have it all? Naina asked herself the same thing each time she looked at Adithya. He was kind, he loved her dearly; but yet the feeling that something was missing between them refused to go away. The thought stayed, lodged in the deepest corner of her heart. 
Was it simply because she couldn't help but compare him to Ravi, her ex? Or was it the fact that the easy camaraderie that they had shared seemed missing when she was with Adithya? Either way, she knew that she had to make up her mind before it was too late. She couldn't bear the thought of breaking his heart. She knew only too well the pain that came with it. 
Those endless days she had spent in bed. Those nights that she would roam about her house like a crazy person. The suicidal thoughts she had harbored in her heart at the thought of spending a life without Ravi. It was her art that had saved her. She took to painting to heal herself. To find some deeper meaning to life that deluded her. 
In the process, she found that painting was something she enjoyed immensely. It was in her art class that she had met Adithya. She did not know why, but she began to enjoy his presence. He became a good friend when she needed one. He encouraged her to follow her dreams, to aim a little higher with each painting that she created. To make her believe that mistakes were fine. Add a few douses of different colors and the painting could be fixed. Like her life. It looked even better than what she had in mind when she had begun. 
When Adithya confessed his love for her, she was taken aback at first. She did not want to risk getting hurt. At the same time, the thought of losing his friendship was unbearable. But he was patient with her, giving her space and time. 
"Take your time. Even if you decide to say no, please do understand that our friendship shall always remain the same." His soothing words had assured her. 
That day, as Naina took out her brushes and dipped them in the bright colors of oranges, reds and yellows and began stroking bold strokes on her canvas, the answer to her question came as clearly as the image forming before her eyes. She had always been looking for a better man, one who was perfect. Adithya was far from perfect, he was messy, he sometimes forgot their dates but it was with him, her racing mind always found solace. 
And all of a sudden, everything made sense. Ravi shall always be a part of her, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. But it was Adithya who taught her that sometimes it's okay to be broken, to take time to heal and most importantly, to learn to accept reality and trust herself again. As she did her finishing strokes on the canvas, Naina knew that her future was going to be as bright and intriguing as the painting before her.   


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A - Addiction

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Aravind closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was an office party; a social event that was inevitable. He had shied away from such gatherings since the past couple of years. Gatherings where the booze flowed aplenty, where people would have a slip of tongue after a drink or two. But that was part of the fun. Only that people hid their embarrassment behind well concealed smiles and shrugs the next day. 
He remembered only too clearly how he had been one of them. Though he had always a social drinker, the occasional drink slowly turned into a regular habit. In the beginning, there were always an excuse to have a drink in the evenings, just before dinner. A way to wind down after a stressful day. To celebrate a promotion. To mark the arrival of a new member in the family. 
And before he realized it, he started looking for reasons to drink. The sight of the golden liquid swirling amongst the ice cubes set his spirits roaring. It gave him such a high that when the losses started happening right before his eyes, he turned a blind eye towards it. 
"Papa..." The voice of his daughter broke Aravind from his reverie. 
Seeing the sight of her in the baby pink dress he smiled. The net floating around gave her the appearance of a cherubic angel. She was the reason he had curbed his addiction. Seeing her frightened eyes when he came home drunk one night left something broken inside him. Was it her disappointment? Or the fact that he was missing out on those most precious moments of her life? 
All he knew then was that if he did not make a conscious effort himself, there was no way to break from its clutches. Losing is daughter was not a risk he was prepared to take. No matter what the cost. He wanted to be the best father for his little girl. He still enjoyed the occasional drink or two, in the comfort of his home. But no longer does he allow it to define who he is. He felt the small fingers of his daughter wrap around his. Looking down, he realized that it was her innocent laughter that had always been his high. 

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