Anticipation

The day is Monday. It’s nine in the morning and I wake up with a headache. I have half an hour to leave for the office and critical decisions to make for the course of the evening.

The past week was one of those weeks. The kind that I have been having for as long as I remember. The kind where I sink into my bed and am unable to resurface for days. The problems of the world stop to matter and imaginary inner demons rise from their deep slumber. The mind feels like a void. Small tasks like brushing my teeth seem overwhelming. Voices of near and dear ones fade into the background. And sadness rushes in. Waves of it. And I am left wondering why. So i surrender. As always. I lie in my bed and let it pass. As always.



“Do I want to see him today?” I am brushing my teeth and looking at my worn out reflection in the mirror. The question keeps ringing in head. “Maybe not. Not when I am like this”, I decide. But something keeps pulling me. Maybe his voice. That laugh. “What about it?” “Like sun rays on a lazy winter day” . Alright . Fine. Today, I leave it on the universe to decide for me. And I dash out of the house to face the day.

I am sitting in the office and listening to all the commotion. Or atleast trying to. Why cant I hear anything? Are my insides so loud ? I shake off my thoughts and try to listen again. But I loose the voices again. Far behind me. “Am I waiting?” I wonder. And a coffee emoticon pops up on my mobile screen. “6.30” , I reply.

The day gets busier as the evening approaches. I try to fix my unruly hair in the auto but eventually give up. Finally, I reach the rendezvous point looking all haphazard ,hoping against hope . Its dark now and the entire area is lit up with warm yellow fairy lights. “Didnt know such beautiful islands existed in the sea of dust we refer to as Gurugram!” I wonder. I try looking for him.

”Hey,hey,hey!” The voice finds me first and then the man himself arrives. I am seeing him for the very first time. And all I see is the smile and the excitedly risen eyebrows hidden under what can only be described as – emo haircut for boys. Interesting !

We settle down at a cozy coffee place. Conversations flow effortlessly. Making a point or two in between, I mostly listen . I am amazed at the numerous dichotomies that this person possesses. A serious face with playful eyes. A calm exterior but a turbulent mind. And its all so transparent. All I want to do is to tear through the skin and put my palm on his restless beating heart. I want to touch him. Maybe his face between my hands, or maybe his pinky finger intertwined with mine. I settle with my moving my legs closer to his. I keep listening to him and it dawns on me. It is him tearing through my skin. And it is my restless beating heart that needs him.

Hours pass like minutes and finally it’s time to go. We decide to walk around a bit; under the warm yellow fairy lights on a cold winter night. Just like the movies, I wonder. I hold his arm, partly because of the cold and mostly because I am drawn to him , amazed at the longing to do so.

Eventually I drop him home along the way. And I wait , looking at him from behind. He turns around once and smiles flipping his hand through the hair. And suddenly it feels warm in my chest. I want to run. I want to run to him and bury my head in his chest wrapping my arms around him. Never letting go.

But I hold my myself back. Not today.

But someday.