Unsent White Carnations (#YourStoryIndia)

Letter II

The first time you talked to him

2nd of April, 2014

Dear ,

It was raining heavily that morning.

Save for the bits of sunlight caressing a few puddles here and there, there was not much in sight. My breath came out in huffs and my leg muscles ached. I ran harder and faster as I heard the thunder strike. I stopped, feeling the rain seep further through my clothes and then, my shoes. The air around me was almost foggy, white even. The rain had been pouring since an hour non-stop and that too in full force, very hastily.

I sat on the very same bench that I usually sat on, waiting eagerly for you. I took in the scene around me, the wet, green leaves, the hidden sun and the amazing downpour. It was beautiful.

I toyed with my bracelet as the thunder rolled away and the rain reduced down to a soft, gentle drizzle. I looked up, my hazel brown eyes met your dark brown ones.

And the world seemed to stop and move in a blur at the same time.

You came up to me and sat beside in a quickened motion.

"I thought you wouldn't come today," you whispered. Your first ever words to me. They sounded almost as sweet as a box full of Hershey's. Your gentle tone warmed up my insides, the syllables almost rolled off your tongue as if it were as slippery as butter. You stood there in a taut track suit, one that exposed your lower arms only to show how fit and muscly you were. Your brown hair was damp and your face was drizzled with gentle drops, as fresh as dew drops on morning daisies.

"You were misunderstood." I said, swallowing past the ball that seemed to form within my throat.

You laughed a hearty laugh as you said, "Ain't I always?"

I shuffled my feet as I gave you a half-smile. Your eyes flickered down to my bracelet as you asked, "Your boyfriend gave you that?"

I blushed as I said, "If that is a tactic to know if I have a boyfriend or not, then it won't work."

"Oh, well. Cosmopolitan said that it works, with a guaranty. Anyways, do you?"

"No." I remember you telling me later that it was the best news that you'd heard that day.

I mumbled a quick apology as my phone began to ring. My mom had called me home, for today was an important day. I bid my goodbye to you as I started counting my steps again.

Had it not been my grandmother to tell me that I should start counting when it starts paining, I would've been only half as fit as I was today. She was a star.

Before she actually became one , that is.

*

Truth be told, your voice was like a song whose melody seemed to be a cure for all ups and downs in my life. One that I would never mind hearing, regardless of what was going on in my mind.

Regardless of all that you put me through.