It’s frustrating.
You know how, when you’re enjoying a great book or movie, you flow through the lived experiences of the characters—their flaws, hiccups, and the surprises life throws at them—all while hoping it all works out in the end. Just as you’re headed towards the much-awaited climax with excitement, bam, a bummer?
An open ending.
I hate open endings. I always wanted all the loose ends to be tied, every missing piece justified, and the whole concept of ‘It all happens for a reason‘ precisely figured out.The words ‘THE END’ gave me a distinctive sense of satisfaction. I think the right word would be ‘closure.’
And closure is as mysterious as death.
You don’t know when it’ll come to you, and there’s no doubt there’s no controlling it.
You can only hope it shows up someday.
Someday to end all the suffering.
If you’ve ever experienced this, I’m sure you understand that it almost smells like the freedom of the human spirit, a surge of relief. It’s as though you’re finally being released after years of being stuck behind the bars of throbbing pain. Joy and happiness emanate without the resistance of the boulders on your heart, and there’s a sudden ease of life flowing through your nerves and bones, a serene feeling that leaves you acknowledged and complete, instilling the hope of beginning new chapters.
The air of closure was long overdue. I had spent several years sobbing on bar tables, having never-ending conversations with close friends, detangling emotions with expensive therapists, stumbling and struggling across the maze of life, waiting for closure to knock on the doors of my house and finally set me free.
Until it did, 10 years later.
********
It was the beginning of September. In Germany, havoc arose due to a catastrophic forest fire. In Manipur, the news read ‘CM pushes for annual State Olympic Games.’ And here, in a weather that was mostly chilling, ten of us were absorbed in the monotony of a Monday.
We had all shown up in our office rooms earlier than usual. It was an important client, and we really wanted to level up our marketing strategy. A lot of money had gone into it, so we had to go all in, which required a good amount of brainstorming. With the entry of each person, the doors squeaked, chairs flew around from one side to another, laptops and books opened with charts and diagrams. And it began.
“I personally like the third idea. I think it aligns with the brand tone and values. It’s definitely going to turn heads”, said Tanya, my junior, confidently pointing at the presentation.
“But this can backfire, it’s so controversial. I think we should come up with something else.”, screamed Suraj who was skeptical about almost everything.
“Sometimes, you’ve got to risk it, to know if it works out.”, smirked Tanya putting her foot down.
“But…”,
A long, heated discussion had just begun first thing on a gloomy morning, with opinions tossing side to side like a ping ball.
And then, one after another, a stream of voices overlapped and canceled each other out. It was no longer about the strategy, the client, or the growth of the company. It became a pointless conversation, each person proving their idea was better, a pointless exercise to determine whose idea would win the validation award. Rationality had gone down the drain. And solidarity? Don’t even get me started on that.
I sat, listening patiently to everyone, biting the side of my lip, clicking the back of my pen out of habit, only to be interrupted by the vibration of my phone.
As I picked up the phone to put it on silent, I was taken aback by what popped up on the screen. It shook me from within, like after an accident where it takes several minutes to even comprehend what exactly is happening around you.
Was I reading it right? I checked once. I checked twice. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I froze. The sounds in my head went blank. It almost felt like a foggy morning where nothing was clear and you kept trying to see through it.
Text message
“Hey, I reached Bangalore an hour ago for a conference and it’s just 2 kms from your office. I’m leaving tonight to Chennai. Um, it’s been a very long time. I’m starting to forget how you look, lol. We could catch up over an ice-cream? Please don’t say no.”
It was Aravind.
Aravind Srinivasan, 10 years later.
Last I knew, he was a 17 year old kid, with a fascinating pair of eyes behind those frameless glasses. The kind of eyes you want to drown in and the kind of heart that could fill the voids of the world with happiness. Not to mention, he always gave more, and he enjoyed it. So far, I’ve never met anybody even close to how charismatic and handsome he was.
The perfect features, in the perfect places. (If there existed a person called god, and god had given very few men on the planet a great ass, he would top the list.)
That ass, had a unique style and touch to everything. He kept trying new looks and outfits. It was his thing. He hung out with a big group of friends, people who were and probably still are the center of his world.
He carried a happy demeanor that was absolutely contagious. It literally sent a pulsating current straight to the nooks and corners of my heart and set it on fire. The only guy who was capable of orchestrating every rhythm in my body. The first time I realized love, it was in the shape of his smile. Just his presence was as comforting and cozy as the gloomy morning it was. I was fixated that he was ‘the one’ before the tables turned.
‘Soumya, are you with us?’ said Suraj in a loud voice.
‘Uhh yeah,’ I said. ‘I think we’ll come up with more ideas and discuss the strategy tomorrow,’ as if I was revived back to the present moment after being lost far away in a different universe.
I picked up the blue file from the desk and made my way to the cafeteria. I was beginning to feel very uneasy. Tanya and Suraj accompanied me for a break, for a lemon tea, obviously.
As I took the first sip, Tanya stared at me with a look of concern.
‘You look a little out of place. Are you okay?’ asked Tanya, checking in on me.
‘Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you,’ I said and shrugged it off.
But in reality, I was locked in my own mind. My thoughts were swinging back and forth, stuck in a loop. It felt like I was outside of time and space.
“Hey, you looked cute in the red top. If I’d known I would have come in red too. You know matching, matching.”, said a 12 year old Aravind, giggling inside my head.
“Don’t worry. You worked hard and you did great. Stop beating yourself. 94% is a big deal. How can you compare yourself to others? You’re just different. You’re a strong warrior. Come on, smile now.” – Aravind was consoling me after we got our 10th results.
“Here, I got you grill chicken and a biriyani. I know it’s your favourite.” – Aravind smiled putting his hand forward that held the cover of the world’s best dish.
Why was my heart racing?
This was silly and very teenager-ish. If that’s even a word. It was a long time back right? We’ve moved on now. I mean our lives have taken completely different turns or rather it felt more like they were moving in parallel lines that I thought would never intersect again.
What were these emotions that were surfacing and why was I uncomfortable facing it? Was it because I was still in love? Was it because it was 10 years later, and my heart was still fluttering over just a message? Was I ashamed?
Ugh, and there it was. My ego was hurting.
That’s it, I thought.
I took the last sip of the lemon tea and put the cup on the table. It made a loud thud that grabbed some attention. I instantly took my phone, and opened his chat. My monkey brain was playing tricks on me. What harm could meeting him after so many years do?
Text message
Hey. Yes, it’s been a long time. We could catch up in the evening. 🙂
I locked my phone. 2 seconds later, I unlocked it to see if he had replied.
Again, very teenager-ish.
No luck. I kept meddling with the pendant of the chain on my neck.
I locked the phone again. The screen read 13:30 Mon, 26 Sep.
“Don’t you have an article to submit by EOD?”, Suraj asked, reminding me about a blog page.
“Oh, fuck. That was today? Argh, okay. Send me those references.”, I said, rolling my eyes, frustrated.
I stood up and rushed to my cabin. Suraj was quick to send those references. I opened the lenskart box that displayed “We’ll look good together”.
We’ll look good together, whatever, I sighed. Nonetheless, I took the wiping cloth, cleaned my glasses, and wore it.
I read two or three articles on interior designing in workspaces, jotted down the key points, and began to frame and structure the blog with my own understanding. Honestly, I knew nothing about interior designers or interior designing but here I was, making an attempt at writing an article about “colour psychology” in “interior designing”.
I opened a doc and started typing something along the lines of
“Can hues pivot the state of our mind? All we ever experience is a stimulation of substances that constitutes a color. Does that mean perception can affect perspective?”
“Tarun wasn’t focussing on the match sir. The score doesn’t make sense. I got 3 straight points in a row”, cried Aravind as I sat on the slab after school hours only to watch him play Badminton.
“Hey did you like the white tiger?”, he asked.
“But I hate toys, why would you gift that to me”, I replied.
Because you always keep roaring at me like a tiger, hehe”, he chuckled.
“So lame Aravind.”
“Every time I listen to Va Va En Velicha Poove Va, I think of you.”, he said and I blushed. So hard.
It felt like I was outside of time and space.
The cursor kept staring at me, blinking.
I turned a blind eye to the ramblings of my mind and continued to write.
“……Several studies have proven that colours can significantly help achieve productivity levels in businesses. So before you pop your workspace with colours…”,
I was just getting back to the only thing that kept me sane and that’s when my phone buzzed again.
Text message
That sounds great. I’ll see you at 7 right below your office. I can’t wait to meet you.
And then like a broken tap with a rush of flowing water, it all came back to me.
A montage of all the little moments.
“Fine, we’ll get you married to that guy”, said my mom in a furious tone as I stood there confused. . She walked towards me, kept my phone on the table beside and left. I opened the lock of my first cute Samsung phone, and the message read “I’d kiss you all over”.
We’d sexted all night. We were caught.
“Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light”, read the caption of his first Facebook cover photo that had the both of us chuckling.
“I came to see you at the match today. Damn, you have sexy legs.”. he said after a tiring basketball match. I’d seen him in-between siting at the boundaries of the court, smiling with a loud cheer.
“Oye, Oye”, he whispered waving a hii amidst the hustle and bustle of a terrible traffic as our vehicles stood parallel to each other. Him with his grandfather, and me with my mom. I waved hii and took a glance at his grandfather. I sat there wondering, if this handsome factor runs in their genes.
“I get the first piece, ey ey ey”, he teased as he took the first bite of my birthday cake. “Shut up, let’s just dance”, I said pulling him.
“Hey I reached. Can you come down”, he said on the call as he waited downstairs for a Chetan Bhagat book.
Meanwhile, I combed my hair 5 times, reviewed my outfit thrice and then stepped down. He stood there holding his black activa smiling in his grey T-shirt that had a weird monkey on it and a blue track pant.
“You want to come up? Nobody’s home”, I said a little nervous for no reason.
“What would I get if I come up?”, he asked with a wink.
“Nothing, just a Chetan Bhagat book.”, I said and started walking.
That evening, we spoke about books, and friends, and school with breaks that were filled with comfortable silences and passionate glances. The tension in the room was at its peak. His words, those eyes, his innocent gestures, I saw myself drowning. We were just about to have our first kiss with just one layer of air between us and my mom entered.
“Can you both move a little closer for the picture? One bridge only we can build between you both.”, said Rishi as he clicked one last photograph before it all ended.
Why was my heart racing?
My stomach lurched and churned. It almost felt like I wanted to puke. God, I wish I could switch off my brain and just keep it aside at rest for a while. I checked the time. It was 5:00 pm. I could feel the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead.
Fuck, t minus 2 hours and he’d show up in front of my office. But what would we even talk about? I don’t even know what he eats, or likes, or even watches anymore. Yes, there was once a point of time when we would never go out of topics to talk, but now?
Maybe I should ask him about his conference or I could talk to him about Chennai. Maybe I could ask him if he was seeing someone. No, No, that would be weird. Maybe I should just message my therapist. No, no, she has a personal life. I can’t disturb her, it would be inappropriate.
Should I just cancel on him? No, that’s so rude. But he canceled on me forever, this is still better isn’t it?
I was spiralling.
I did the one thing I knew. The only thing I was confident about. I called up an old friend. I wasn’t sure if I should give her the “deets” given how much she’d seen me struggle to come to terms with the whole situation. Nevertheless, nothing in the world can make you feel safe like the presence of a friend.
Roam all you want. At the end of the day, you got to come home.
“If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea, I’ll sail the world to find you”, sang Akshara the minute she picked the call, in a voice that was so terrible, but weirdly comforting, I cringed. I had almost forgotten how stupid she was and how she received every call with some or the other song.
God bless, Bruno Mars.
“Can you stop it already”, I said smiling faintly.
“I’ll never let go. I’ll never say goooddd byeeeeeee”, she continued singing, her voice squeaked.
“Enough bro, pah. I don’t know why I called. I’m reconsidering.“, I said sounding annoyed when the truth was I honestly loved her.
She was my favourite person.
“Exactly, I don’t know why you called either. You never call during the weekdays and at such odd timings, that’s impossible. Something’s cooking. Tell off.”,
“I can’t even call my friends when I want now? This is a free country, Akshara.”, I blabbered.
“No, you can’t. You see I have a very busy work from home schedule. So many meetings, so many calls, everybody needs Akshara’s service. Tch Tch Tch.”, she put on a show when we both knew she hated her job.
“Oh, shut up. I know how your work from home works. Chumma you corporate guys overact so much.”, I said teasing her.
“At least it’s a real job unlike yours. Do you guys even work at your office? You’re always making Insta reels trying to be full trendy-trendy.”, she said giving a better comeback.
“Excuse me, that’s a part of my job. Take it back. Take it back, now.”, I screamed trying to be angry.
“My money don’t jiggle jiggle”, she continued teasing me. It was a jibe to a reel we had made recently.
“Argh. At least I love my job. Anyway, ahhh, Aravind texted.”, I confessed finally.
“Whose Aravind? Which Aravind? What Aravind?”, she wondered, blurting random questions while I stayed quite waiting for her to realize.
Allow your friends to be stupid and they eventually realize.
“Wait. What. Aravind. Aravind Srinivasan from school. The guy who broke your heart? How did he get your number? Why would he text you after so many years? What the hell is happening between you two? Wait, What?”
“Akshara, can you please calm down? Two people aren’t allowed to panic at the same time, for god’s sake. He texted this morning when I was in a meeting saying he was in Bangalore and asked if we could meet.”, explaining the whole scenario to her.
“Andddd, you said…..no right?”
“Anddd, I said…. yes.”, I told her, biting my nails, my eyes closed.
“Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Maybe you should just start making reels on “How to choose hurt in life. Ft. Soumya”, she said in a very sarcastic tone.
“Bro, the truth is I’m flipping. I don’t know why I said yes. But, I do feel like meeting him. We did have the best of times despite everything that went wrong later. It’s been a long time, it should be okay, isn’t it”?
“Soumya, Rejection and Recognition – Never let it get to your heart, okay?”, she said.
“What?”, I was so confused. “Why are you saying this random dialogue now?”, I asked, irritated.
“My point is eventually both of those things hurt. We got to continue being who we are. Maybe you should meet him. It seems like there’s some unfinished business. Some things that needed to be told but were left unsaid. Maybe it’s time to meet him and finally let go. Although, I’m not sure if it’s okay for you to meet him because I don’t want to see you hurt.
Again.
But if that’s what you want, who can stop you babe?”, she said with a touch of reassurance.
“I don’t know man, I do what I feel, I guess. But what would I talk to him Akshara? 10 years later?”, I asked her confused as I stood up to stress-walk.
“You’re an extrovert, I’m sure you know better. You don’t need my expertise here. Although keep it light and don’t get carried away. And ma’am, the point of power is always in the present moment.”, she said quoting my own words.
“Akshara, Aravind. Aravind Srinivasan”.
“Yes, it’s Aravind. So what? Chumma you keep going Aravind Aravind all the time. It feels like you’ve opened the door to the past.”
“Akshara. He’s down. He’s smoking a cigarette. I can see through my window. ”
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