I’m ready to fly again. . . . .

Standing by her window , Shweta could feel the cold November breeze on her cheek. Below her window, Guwahati was busily chugging along. Cars, scooters, bikes, people. People she didn’t know, people she had never met. But she found a peculiar solace in observing them from her window. Happy people, bubbly people, talking, laughing, holding hands….

In a way, this was Shweta’s way of coping with the lack of happiness in her own life. She remembered Girish’s face – the face that had meant everything to her, the face which was the centre of the circle of her life. The face that was no longer there in her life.

Shweta and Girish were college sweethearts. Two bodies, one soul. People often called them the ‘made for each other’ pair. They were the envy of every couple that was having issues in adjusting.For Shweta and Girish, there was no adjustment. They were simply made for each other.

Their courtship was going strong and they had completed one successful year together and there was one month left to their second anniversary, when all hell broke lose. Girish started ignoring her. The daily count of text messages began to dwindle. And suddenly Shweta couldn’t find Girish by her side anymore. She tried to probe what was wrong.

But Girish always evaded her queries. The distance between them started to grow. And one day Shweta could no longer take it and decided to confront him. She did. A big fight ensued. And Girish broke up with her. For no good reason.

Shweta’s whole world came crashing down. The unthinkable had happened. That they would split was never on her possibility map. They were meant to be beyond all these. But it was the truth. Anger, disbelief, sorrow, hopelessness – all gripped her at the same time. The charming, bubbly girl had now reduced to tears, agony, and unspeakable pain. It started to tell upon her health. The extroverted girl was now confined to the four walls of her paying guest room. Girish had toyed with her life for two long years. Girish had promised her the world, the happiness of seven continents and what not. And this is what she ended up with – tears. For weeks on end, she would not go out, trying to let the harsh reality sink in.

Then she ‘met’ Mihir on facebook. Mihir was Shweta’s school junior, younger to her by one year. They started talking on facebook chat, regularly. Mihir was a shy, academically gifted, and down-to-earth person. He was the quiet type. Soon they exchanged phone numbers and Mihir started calling Shweta on a daily basis.

Shweta needed a support and she confided in Mihir. Mihir stood by her like a rock. He would call her and let her speak, let her pain come out, let her tears flow freely. He would just listen to her, without speaking a word. And when she was done, Mihir would just say one sentence, “I’m with you Shweta”. Mihir was the quiet type, often struggling to find the right words to say at the right moment. But he knew one thing- he had to stand by Shweta. In Shweta, Mihir had found a great friend- a rare feat in his life. He was always considered nerdy. But with Shweta, it was different. Something magical was on play here. Mihir was slowly becoming aware of his feelings towards Shweta.

But he was scared to make any advances right now – he knew she would need time to heal. So, for 8 long months, he held his feelings inside, and continued to be the unflinching support for Shweta. Then , one day, when he felt Shweta had gained considerable strength, he proposed to her. In a classic setting, down on his knees, he held her hand and said, “Shweta, I love you”.
Back to the present, standing by her window, Shweta found herself at a crucial juncture of her life. The fork in the road was right here. Mihir had given her this new window of happiness, and through that window, she could see a garden of everlasting bliss. But what if he turned out to be exactly like Girish? Should she allowed herself to be hurt again by accepting Mihir’s proposal? She couldn’t risk yet another heartbreak. . . . But Mihir had done so much for her, and yet never demanded anything in return. It was a dilemma.
Shweta closed her eyes for a moment and tried to feel the cool breeze on her face. She had made up her mind. She held the rails of her window with both her hands and cried out, “Yes! Yes! Mihir I love you. I love you more than anyone else”. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked up at the Guwahati sky and almost screamed out, “Do u hear Girish? I’m ready to fly again! I’m ready to forget you, and give my life yet another chance. You have been forgotten Girish! You mean nothing to me today. I love Mihir, do you hear that Girish?”. The noise of the traffic on the street below drowned her screams and sobs. The girl completely broke down.
It started to rain.The people below started running for shelter.And Shweta stood there sobbing, getting wet, and repeating “Mihir, I love you. I’m ready to fly again. . .I’m ready. . ”

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4 comments on “I’m ready to fly again. . . . .

  1. Monika Bakshi Singh says:

    Nice narration. I liked the expression and the message that “life goes on…” I specially liked the usage of some appealing phrases and sentences like..”centre of the circle of her life”; The fork in the road was right here. Nice read!

  2. I really like your blog.. very nice colors & theme. Did you make this website yourself or did you hire someone to do it for you? Plz reply as I’m looking to create my own blog and would like to find out where u got this from. cheers

  3. Hello Fruit….. Nooooooo! I didn’t make this website myself. For the record you DON’T NEED any tech skills to set up a blog. Just go to the wordpress website and follow the instructions. Once you have your own blog you can put up various themes, that are provided by wordpress itself. The theme that i’m using is a free theme . Its called “Motion” . You can use it too.

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