Empty pockets never held anyone back. Only empty heads and empty hearts can do that.

There's a coup going on in this blog. A regime change is highly probable.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

She cried, how and why...

She took out rouge and liner from Hidesign purse and went on to refurbish her tear-stained face.
Tears…probably the deadliest weapon a woman can unleash on a guy who cares about her…each drop which rolled down her cheeks were hitting me hard … I felt as if my heart was being pierced by acupuncture needles…one by one...from the inferior to the superior vena cava…Yup, she's my lifeline…has been so for quite some time now. So, I was with her in the kitchen of my one bhk apartment, preparing a modest dinner for the two of us. I thought doing this together was a great way to bond better, gotta admit that "91/2 weeks" kitchen scene had a lot to do with this plan of mine. She helped me by fetching vegetables from the fridge, stood by my side as my knife made precise dices and slices.
    She was no better at cooking than I'm at dancing. The intent of showcasing my culinary skills was inherent in this exercise. I got off to a good start, deboning the fish, all in one go.
The showman inside me felt I could do one better…so to display my multi-tasking abilities, I went on to tell her some 'incidents' from my college days while chopping up the items for fish curry, vegetable korma and green salad. I won't be unfair to her by saying my stories were good; she had to really put some effort in appearing eager to hear my corny tales. She stood there leaning against the fridge trying to make sense of the confusion otherwise known to me as my college life. It's said that a good listener usually comes up with a good question, she was no exception…in the pause I made to recover breathe, she fired a quick one, "Do you still love your ex?"
Like a shot from a well-concealed sniper, this question came from nowhere…(I did, however, mention my ex in the stupid stories I was serving her for appetizers) The cucumber, about to be decapitated slipped away from the edge of the blade I was wielding, proof enough that I was shaken up by this poser. She moved to a strategic position next to me and whispered over my shoulder, "I'm waiting...tell me"
Bluffing my way out of this was immediately ruled out by the one in front of the left lung while the one between my ears told me to skip the question altogether. "She will know sooner or later, it's better to settle this once and for all", some other chum (with a halo over his head) advised.
With supreme effort I managed to utter these very words, "To tell you that I don't would be lying through the teeth so I would rather say that I'm trying to un-love her" meanwhile my hands were busy chopping. Probably a few micro seconds later I realised the implication of these seemingly ostentatious words...THIS IS NOT SOMETHING ONE SHOULD SAY TO SOMEONE SPECIAL AS IT DENTS THAT "SPECIAL" IN A SPECIAL ONE. My body stiffened waiting for a reprisal.

My ears picked up a sniff, I slowly turned my gaze to her...she had just pulled a hankie out of her purse...her eyes were swelling with tears...

"Take evasive action !!", alarms went off in my head. Tears!! Oh no! tears are not on menu for this dinner date!!

"Hey, hey...I was only suggesting that she doesn't matter to me anymore"... "She's as good as gone"... "I really care about you, that's why I said what I said and please, right now, you are my only object of affection"... "Ahhh, that witch is gonna haunt me even in my afterlife"........

  I released the trigger to observe the effect of my covering fire....But, it was too late...my defence had been breached already...I dropped the knife in despair....

"I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you in any way..."
It absolutely wreaks me to see her eyes moist...Her tears start in drops, soon turn into a drizzle and a li'l later, depending on the magnitude of her emotional burden, torrential tears may come along with thunderous wails. Sometimes it bothers me so much that I end up questioning my moronic existence; For making her cry, somebody line me up in front of a firing squad, please!

Thankfully she managed to cork her outpour and said something that caught me napping.
"It's perfectly cool, it's understandable, had the same experience with one of my ex, much worse actually", she said in a wobbly tone.

Imaginary arms started scratching my head, "I reminded you of who?...your ex?"

"Then....what explains those tears?"

"Them...I can't stand them...."
I looked at the direction indicated to find the culprit... finely chopped onions on my chopping board.   

Considering the plight of my abso-f**king-lutely baffled intellect, I made it a point to purchase the book displayed below. 

Note: This has got nothing to do with me... fiction as pure as cow shit...the entire episode takes place within a span of 10 minutes.Just so you know...