The Other Sides...

It was an hour since he has been trying her number. He started at 11:40pm. It was a 'CALL WAITING' then. Then it was 1:00 am, and it still was 'CALL WAITING'.

He had called her up after these som many days, to get the answer of a question that he didnt dare to ask. But a colleague of his had raised this question today again, and he had no answer. So he just dodged it, changed the topic, and dragged the conversation to somewhere else in a different space time.

It was nothing in particular, like they say. It has never been anything in particular, something which like a special page in a long book, that can be earmarked. It was about so many things, the this, the that, and the other. And yet it was nothing. Nothing in particular.

His friend had asked him casually, very casually; 'Was he still in touch with her?' And he had said yes. Afterall he was, so what if the touch has now started meaning, a mere exchange of two-three sentences. He wasnt lying afterall. But the answer started to work on his self. He had always been accused of having a too fertile imagination. Of attributing happenings to some obscure philosophy and rationalizing everything to a logical reason. Yet it was his imagination that caused him so much agony.

And so he called her upto ask her. About how did she answer such queries? What did she say to the question, "Are you still going steady?" Afterall it was her decision to let things be. let the manuscript stay unfinished, and the symphony incomplete.

Starting at 11:40, and retrying after every 5 minutes, he accustomed his ear to a CALL WAITING tone. His discomfort became evident, when for a few minutes her phone got free but she kept cutting his call. All he heard, was that cheerful prerecorded message voice, "THE NUMBER YOU ARE TRYING TO CALL IS BUSY". Alwys irrittating, now even more so. And then the phone got busy again. At 12:55 am the line was on CALL WAITING, at 1:00 it was switched off.

Has someone else stepped into my shoes? Has she moved so swiftly? While he was still there, trying to find the pieces, hoping to stick everything back, so that the porcelain vase of past, could bear the blooms of future, was she making rainbows in someone elses life? A fertile imagination can haunt you worse than your scariest nightmare, because then even with open eyes you see visions. With so many questions, like he always had had; questions that had scared her so much that she chose to not take them anymore; he drifted into the abode of somnus. His eyes started another dream.

6 hours later. Somewhere else in the morning, a roommate thanked her roommate for the phone she had borrowed last night, to receieve some incoming calls.

-"And ohh yes! someone kept calling you so many-many times. Check who it was in the missed calls register. There was this continous buzz while i was talking."

"Who was he?"

-"I dont know, i didnt see his name. After my calls i just switched of your phone and went to sleep."

imaginations can kill, but you dont die at once...