The autobiography of things

” I’ve always been there for her . More on a few days, less on a few. But have always been there “ 



If you were to ask me the nature of what it was, I’d struggle. I was always there. I didn’t pause to think about what it meant or what I meant to her . I really didn’t have to. We just got along well. 


The oldest memory I have of us when she learnt to ride that pretty blue bicycle. It was a sweet wonderful little thing. It had a colourful basket. We were in Ooty those years. The chill wind surrounded us. The city was still green. The wheels went off balance, I sat with a little fear gripping my heart. Her fragile body came in contact with the fragile ground below. Her skin bust open, drops of blood and drops of dew met that pleasant morning. I was there. It broke my heart. 



As we both grew older together, I took a back seat in her life. She had forgotten about me. I didn’t feel bad. I guess there was this keen sense of blissful detachment at play. In a way I was happy. In a way it brought me peace that she had chosen to move away from me. A little girl in the land of boys. The heart was a fragile work of art. I remember that day. She called out to me. I set aside my pride over not being her best friend the last few years. I was there. I was with her through the difficult night. I kept her company through the darkest day of her life. Now that I look back, It wasn’t a big thing. Back in the day, sure it was. We grew close and our time together reminded me of a fantastic pair that we were. Still, it did break my heart to be there for her. 



As I aged, my thoughts changed. I knew ours was a deal that shouldn’t last. I could never bring her happiness. I could never bring her to smile. It was pain and suffering that I brought to the table. I didn’t have the courage in me to pack my bags and leave. I didn’t know how to either. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t meant to be and I didn’t will it exist. But something wonderful happened one day. 

She had breathed a new life. That little one would go on to live by the name Shalini. It was that day, when she was the happiest. I was there . I witnessed the glow in her face, the pride in her heart, the love in her eyes. I was there and I saw the magic in her bloom. I felt happy. It was probably the first time in a long time when I felt relieved of guilt when I was with her. I gently made a note and reassessed my place in her world. It was the day where I knew that I had the power in me to change what I meant to her. I made a solemn note to change myself. 

That change, that promise was a hard one to keep. It broke my heart and left me shattered to see her in pain. I refused to comfort her. I had cast my heart to stone and endured a silent suffering. I would never sit by a fence and watch her suffer any more. She longed for me. She prayed for me. I never answered. In time, she cursed and hated me. I took it all, I didn’t protest. So be it, I reminded myself. I reminded myself of the promise that I made. 


As days went on, as time went on, the days soon changed and the times sure changed. Shalini was now a beautiful woman in the land of promises and aspirations. It was her time to fly away free from the house of love where she grew. I let myself in that day. I walked in uninvited, and nobody protested my presence. I had found that acceptance. I was finally reunited with my oldest friend. 


These days we don’t spent time together anymore. I come once a while. I see her when we both sit and watch her granddaughter on Skype. I gently remind my friend that it’s for the best. I comfort her. She brushes me gently aside. We both finally did grow old together, thick as friends. Through time, through challenges, we had remained together. Watching over each other. 


For what it’s worth, though I left her blinded, together we did learn to see the world in all it’s glory.

I am what I am. I’m her tears. The salty little rascal, who refused to turn up when her heart ached. She learnt the hard way that I would never comfort her in pain. I was there to remind her about how wonderful life got. She wont admit it, but I know she appreciates my sacrifice. 🙂
I guess one can say that I’ve always been there for her. More on some days, less on some. But, I’ve always been there for her .


Tears 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s