FADED PETALS (On Hold)

9.

January 6th, 2016.
Delhi, India.

Sidharth

The long never-ending stream of unkempt sorrow or desire of the human heart for the untold ecstasy.
We all desire to be happy but what kind of happiness do we want, the peaceful shimmer of a perennial glowing brook or the thumping heartbeat of a jazz mix. The desire always says it all.

Here Sidharth sat again trying his luck at the desire of profound happiness, the elixir of his glorifying rise but sadly with the essence unknown.

"Hey", Ramneek said settling on the plushy red sofa. They were in a cafe, surrounded by greens and a variety of blue. A cup of latte was being poured in front of them and the breeze danced slowly calling the ends of the umbrella above them.

"Hi", Sidharth nodded curtly. Ramneek twisted her shaped eyebrows, lips curving for a flashy smile. She was wearing a pastel green summer dress, hairs down with the perfect amount of curls.

"So your father Mr Rathore talked to me about the campaigns and I heard that this time you are going to be an integral part of it", Though she tried to speak nonchalantly and her eyes seemed resting, it wasn't enough to hide the petulance running in her veins.

"Yes, you might have heard about my candidature from ABC constituency" Sidharth spoke

"So, I have to manage it all. Like flash you everywhere, make you the new hero. After all, you are going to be the next president of your party. You can trust me and my process, I have handled your party's campaign long enough for this", Ramneek sipped her coffee.

Sidharth looked at her meekly. Well, nobody told him that but being the son of the present president of the party it was way too predictable that he's going to be the next leader, though there was time.

"See, we only have two weeks. You have to do a lot of public appearances. In some you will be accompanied by your father, rest all alone", she sighed looking at the unrest sitting before him.

"Not to offend you but you don't seem like the it person for this work. One word and the whole population will recognize your incompetence. We need to work on that, your social skills. You need to mask that disinterest dear", The way Ramneek spoke felt as if she knew him like the back of her hand. It was not only him but everything she chattered about be it the martini they took or the dying sun that they encountered on the way back home. It felt as if she has been existing for centuries. The fact that this intimated Sidharth would be an understatement. Her confidence pulled him in some daze and he felt more lonely than ever.

"You can confide in me about your thoughts. I am the one who would be preparing your speeches. You need to tell me what you feel about the whole situation", They were walking to her home.

"Sidharth knew that his father liked her a lot. He had many times heard from him how he wished that Ramneek to be his daughter. Sidharth looked at her, and he knew why. The confidence emanating, her clear thoughts and notions. Her ideals were more vivid than the colours she wore whereas sidharth has always felt like a muddle. A muddle of nothing always running behind everything and though she was being polite to him he felt like with every word she spoke she was pushing him down and down.

_________________

"Are you planning to drink?" Adith gasps when he notices Sidharth carrying bottles of vodka inside.

"I need a serotonin boost", Sidharth speaks in the most melancholic way possible.

Adith rolls his eyes but after hearing the clattering of glasses in the kitchen rushes to his side. "Are you serious? Last month only you promised to never touch these again", he says trying to snatch the bottles from his hand.

"So what? Promises are meant to be broken and I am in for it", Sidharth intensifies his hold on the glass bottle. "Please let me be. I don't always need someone lighting my ways. Be a friend and let me make my own decisions"

Adith looks at his friend, vodka is just a metaphor he had been drowning getting drunk in his melancholy for years. But his state today angered him and his words felt like bullets to his pumping heart.

Sidharth sits on the edge of his bed and serves himself a shot.

"You know what. I was thinking why can't I be happy?", Sidharth says after gulping two shots.

"I have everything. And by everything I mean everything. Luxuries he says pointing at the painting in his room. It was an expensive one that his father gifted him a few years back. I have people who care. I won't lie. There is you, always by my side. I can very easily find myself a companion if you know what I mean. Even a loyal one if I try. I can travel the world, try all cuisines and if luck favours even rule this place. It's like everything is all set, ready to be served in a platter and yet I am here drinking and drowning in my misery. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Adith stares at him trying to form words that might seem less ridiculous. Which might just fit the situation because he didn't feel sympathetic anymore.

"I think you should sleep." He walks out. This was it. He could have been anything and everything but yet he was here, torturing himself. He could have moved past things, lived his life conquered the world rather than picking the beer bottle and wailing the whole night.

"Everybody does what they think is right for me. But people forget that what they may feel is right always makes me feel miserable", Sidharth whispers before throwing the bottle away and cocooning himself in the blanket. He searches for his cellphone, his hands wading through the bedsheets and turns it on. His peace.

Hey,
It's jhilmil.
Well I know I am fifteen minutes late today. Not the usual me but I have something different for you this time.

Jhilmil giggled, her usual tinkling with high bass. The weirdest laughter he had ever come across but was always enough to curve a smile on his face.

Last night I was wondering about the variations of pain. Yes, everybody talks about it. Ironic isn't it? I feel it's one of the deepest emotion found and it's existence is eternal be it in any form.  And what makes it more interesting is the fear ans urgency that arises with it.   The constant denial. Everybody knows why? Who wants to become a substance of speculation and mockery. You always find other's pain insignificant, unrealistic. The people who have bread aren't supposed to cry because there are others who starve. What a comparison? But maybe in order to get the food they might have lost something that the one starving treasures and then both end up crying. How can somebody belittle someone else's pain when they have never felt an ounce of it. Is there anything left in this world that we do not compare be it pain?.... and the sound kept coming from the speaker as Sidharth embraced one of his peaceful slumbers. His breathing silently aligning with the harmony of her voice.

Leaky faucet, creaky floor

We don't even own a bathroom door
The sofa set is nothing to be jealous of
We don't have a lot but there's no shortage here for love

All the pennies in the wishing wells
All the diamonds Tiffany's could sell
All the riches put together
All the sunny California weather
Could not make me love you any better

~All the pennies ( mindy gleghill)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

8/06/2021.

Next update on Thursday.
Tc.
Ahsmir