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Like all mornings, Shoi had woken up at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m, went for jogging at the park and after her punishing ritual of exercises, been back home at sharp 6 a.m. She’d made her morning coffee, black straight and jam toast in the breakfast, just like any other day. Cupping the hot black coffee cup with both her hands, she pulled up both of her feet on the seat end of the chair, her favourite sitting posture and sat musing.
She’d earned quite a reputation in her family and friends circle, being a ‘living machine’ leading successfully, an independent but drab life, straightened down to every small detail. Hearing ’em, she used to give a mere shrug. Wasn’t as if they were wrong. Excitement in Shoi’s life was zilch. Work was her favourite hiding place, where she used to slog days and nights, for the fear that whenever her mind found itself free, it used to inadvertently take refuge in her past, when she wasn’t this person.
He’d drop in every morning, deliberately late (to make her wait) for the coffee, which he found distasteful and the toast, which only worsened his appetite, as he claimed (“You’ll be burned in hell for treating a guest in such a way!”, he’d spat, with a puckered frown on his face), yet drop in anyway. He’d walk her to her shop, despite her innumerable attempts to dissuade him and again walk back her to her home in the late evening. Why? Because he wanted to be ‘in form’ and what better than to walk with a just-average-looking girl. She’d be offended, turn up her nose in the air and fasten her speed, trying to leave him behind, much to his amusement. Among all other things he used to do, she liked the good morning and night messages. She had grown warm to the habit of waking up and sleeping to them.
Snapping back to the present, Shoi sighed. He always had to return back to torment her, didn’t he! 5 long months since they have had any contact and she still couldn’t forget him. She shouldn’t have let down her walls and let him in, she berated for the nth time. For when he’d walked out, he’d broken every piece of her. Yet she’d held her pride. She hadn’t went back to him, begging. After all, why would she? They technically didn’t have any rights on each other, to want the other person to stay back. After all, they were just strangers. Yet every piece of her mind and heart had wanted him to. But he hadn’t looked back even once and she had let him go.

The coffee had turned cold, the toast half-eaten. She swore an oath. Now her appetite had gone for a toss as well. Fantastic. Just then, her mobile chimed an incoming message. Surprised, she looked at her watch. 6:40 a.m. Too early for anyone to be awake and message her, except… Nodding her head disbelievingly, she reminded herself. 5 months, Shoi. Just let him be, now. Huffing a disappointed breath, she retrieved the mobile from the work table and widening her eyes, almost frozen a stance, fell back onto the chair in disbelief.
“Good Morning.” – Ayan.





(I am participating in the #DilKiDealOnSnapdeal activity at BlogAdda in association with SnapDeal

I still vividly remember the day I met him for the first time. We four (I, Deep, Suparna di, Nabendu da) were part of a social media group, meeting for the first time in real life, somewhere around in June. I And Deep were of the same age group, while Suparna aka Mumpy di and Nabendu aka Nabu da, both were seniors to us. Nabu da was the eldest among us. I already knew Deep from a previous meetup, so by then, had already become a friend. However, I hadn’t met the other two people in real life. Knew them, sure, but hadn’t met them. So literally all of us were strangers, meeting for the first time, to acquaint ourselves even more. Three of us, I, Deep and Mumpy di had already arrived, waiting for Nabu da, who was an office-goer and hence running a bit late. Never mind. We three got along with our chats, getting to know each other. Few minutes passed and then He arrived. To my surprise, my breath had got caught in my throat. At that moment, it had made me frown, but looking back at it now, I guess, that was perhaps some kind of a signal from somewhere above that he’d become a person much more than a mere friend to me. Someone very precious to my Life.


The reason why my breath had caught should not and cannot be attributed to his handsome looks, which would be the first plausible reason justifying my reaction, that’d come in any person’s mind. He was handsome, sure, but not drop-dead handsome as such to extract such a reaction from Me. Unable to placate my absurd reaction towards him, I went on acting normal and chatted with all of ’em. By the end of the day, the meetup was successful and both Deep and I were Nabu da’s fans. Literally.


Now how’d that happen and that too so fast? He was a dynamic personality, which could bowl over any sane person. Deep went to the extent, saying, given a chance he’d change his gender, just to become his girlfriend, drawing our bellowing laughs and much to Nabu da’s amusement! (or embarrassment, take your pick!) But I’d been silent. Not because I was trying to be nonchalant, which I actually wasn’t being, but because I knew more than what we had seen, there was more, much more to Him. And I was hungry to unravel that. To get to know him up and personal.


How and when exactly had we hit off, I don’t remember and don’t find it necessary to as well. All that matters is, we had got going. It was pretty late, around August or September maybe. I was the organiser of the second meetup and probably in this way, I’d started talking. We started off like normal friends, a bit of a chat here and there. Then I used to tease him with Mumpy di, to which thankfully, till now, both don’t pull my ears for! Somewhere along, I got close to him. Sometime later, some more closer. By that time, I’d started knowing him the person he is. I started looking forward to the end of the day, when we’d be able to talk, just about anything. He slowly turned into a person I looked up to. He turned into a person I somehow felt compelled to share everything. He turned indispensable to Me.


Along this whole journey, he probably took me for a kid, who was besotted to him and to his so-called dynamic personality, which he claimed, existed only in our minds. But when I saw a gem, I recognised it and its value. I have two sisters as siblings in my family. I’m the youngest one. Despite having them, I ached for that one brother to whom I could look up-to. One who’d pamper Me, look out for me and do all those stuffs that a brother does for her sister. I used to look enviously at all those friends of mine who had brothers and sigh, wishing if only I had one brother and then my life would be just complete. I wouldn’t say I haven’t met people who weren’t or couldn’t be called equivalent to being my brother. But making me call and accept them as one, was tough. Simply because I believed not just anyone could become my brother. If and when I do find one, He would be special and the one whom I wouldn’t be able to leave easily.


They say that when you follow your heart, you can create magic. After all, the heart is the place where all your passion comes from. I followed my heart and trusted its decision to accept him as my brother and see where it led to. He wasn’t at all a typical brother or the one I used to dream of. Probably that’s why I got attracted to him. I believed, if it managed to stay afloat, He shall be a keeper and if it doesn’t, well, it was never meant to transpire then. By then, I had already conjoined my Life with him. I shared everything and anything with him. There wasn’t a laugh or a tear he didn’t have a knowledge of. From telling him every single thing happening in my life to ranting to pestering him with endless questions to listing his favourite songs to even the qualities he wants in his partner (quite to his amusement!), there is probably very few things that I haven’t shared with him. There were many bumps along the journey, some pretty serious ones. But it was just a matter of time, before we’d be back together. Because we were meant to be.  


All this time, I respected him, adored him, looked up to him. But perhaps didn’t love him, so as to say. One fine evening when I’d hadn’t been on talking terms with him, yet went along to meet him, I had expected my poker face to carry me through. I sure as hell didn’t expect to making use of every ounce of my will to not break down, when he gave me the hug, without probably having an idea what was going inside Me. This was an emotion alien to me, till then, and that’s when I knew, I loved him. That I had found my brother. A brother God had refused me.


After acknowledging him my feelings for him and after all these months, I’d say, I’m blessed when I found him acknowledging the same feelings for Me. The day he had, I had wept. Because now, I had something precious, to lose in Life. Which I almost did many a times like very recently as well, yet regained back. But the lessons I learnt from loving him are life lessons.


I had the epiphany that when you truly love a person, you have no fear of losing him. You just need to have faith in your love and believe nothing would go wrong. And it is from this, you draw strength. At least, I did. Love has many forms. Brotherly love occupies the highest rung for Me.  And I now know, if ever I am to have a partner, it has to be a person I love like him. But for now, I love you, my brother. You are and shall remain The One for Me.


This one’s for you, Nabu da. My way of letting the world know you’re my brother, going the dramatic way. No fear of any jinx happening, as I believe in Us.


(I am participating in the #DilKiDealOnSnapdeal activity at BlogAdda in association with SnapDeal.)

31st Dec Nite, 2014. The clock struck 12 and the sound of the fireworks started filtering inside the otherwise silent house. While the whole family was far off in some dreamland, I was up and awake, following my usual routine, reading an eBook on my Tab. Just then, a call came from an expected end. Arka. My male best friend. (Expected, because the previous evening, I’d done the drama queen act, to extract this call out of him. Later of course, he’d said, he’d enjoyed pampering me that way, as he’d every intention of calling me up at midnight. Which was surprising, because he never pampers me. Never.) I excitedly took up the call, wished him happy new year and exchanged small talks. He was at a party, so couldn’t talk much and had to shorten the call. Little did he realize by that little action of his, he’d incarcerated me for the rest of my life. Not because he remembered me despite being at a party, which was moving in itself, but because it was the first midnight new year call I’d ever received. And that’d be special. Always.
That day, I’d made a promise to myself. Whatever happens, however much we might be stuck in some impasse or not-on-talking-terms periods (Periods, simply because they’re innumerable. I, so far, have seen few best friends who fight this many times, like cats and dogs. To the extent that we could be ripping out our hair on the phone itself, if that was possible. Trust me, when I say, before him, I hadn’t met a guy who quarrelled the way he does. Never mind. An incorrigible guy, he is!), I’d make his birthday the best birthday ever. And for that, I’d pull out all stops that’d needed. Come what may.
As expected, the inevitable happened. Just a few days later, we quarrelled yet again. We stopped talking to each other and if and when we did, it was very curt (at least from my side. Yes. I can be very stubborn when I want to). This made the task of making the celebratory stuff more difficult for me, given that, it is not really easy doing a task supposed to be made out of love for a person, whom at that particular phase, you’d like to strangle to death. Moreover, at that moment, I was broke like hell. I had zilch money and the little money I had, I spent it on buying the materials I’d make for him. All this for a guy, with whom I wasn’t even talking and was helluva angry with!

I knew he was big on hand-crafts and he’d love it if I made something for him. That and add the little factor of surprise and I might just make my desire of making his ‘birth’day come true. I decided to make him a card and a spiral bound notebook, chronicling our journey of friendship, throwing in my special touch of verses as well. It had taken three consecutive all nighters, not even a wink of sleep all through, some amount of sweat & hard work and a week beforehand for planning the course of action.


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I knew his group of friends as much as they knew me. So, I’d easily secured the address of his college hostel room from one of his best friend, Aritro Da, whom I knew too quite well. He was supportive enough and a darling to keep that a surprise all through. Now all was supposed to get going, except that there was a little history behind it. Which would be the fact that despite my desire to give him some real good hand-crafted gifts, the fact was I’d never done hand-crafts in my life. Unbelievable, right? Well, ’twas the truth. All through my school life, my sisters (for once, I thank my stars, for their existence!) and parents had done the work for Me. So obviously, it gave me the jitters to think that I’d be doing this alone, all the more my promise to do it without any kind of help from anyone. But then, once I did a commitment and then try to put in my best, only the best is what comes out as the result. Or so far it has.

While all the hard work was on, the impression that I put across to him was one laced with a sarcastic and tart tone. So as to not give away even an inkling of what he was to receive. An act in which I was actually successful. Given that I’d never done all nighters before (till 4 or 4 30 am, sure, but even those included some bit of a nap. But those three days made me look like a walking zombie, with not even a wink in those 48 hours), I remember the radio stations slipping off to morning ragas, from the night non-stop sessions and I was yet doing my work. All because I wanted to make his birthday the best, on part of Me.

Finally, the parcel was speed-posted, 3 days before his birthday and as expected, reached a day before his birthday (better advance than belated!). I still remember and would, for the rest of my life, how excited and grateful he had sounded in receiving the surprise. Needless to say, he actually had been surprised. And that day, I’d realised and felt the full blow of the happiness that one feels, on gifting someone a surprise and getting appreciation (even from his friends, who had been astounded as well) in return. I also remember, wiping a stray tear out of the corner of the eyes seeing his happiness. Darn, I so hate crying!
Well, this one was for you, doofus.