Evil Under the Moon

 I know, 11 PM is not an apt time to wait at the bus stop, but you've to blame my boss for that. That night, I had no one to accompany me except for the crickets, moonlight and the trash lying on the road. 

Amidst that trash was a half torn newspaper, proffering a smile which drew my attention. I walked few steps ahead with a desire to see the face that owned the mesmerising smile. But the edible item sprinkled with the spices and salt, formerly kept in that piece of paper, already shed off its colour on the picture and the news. All I could read was, that a lady named Vandana Desai, living in East Delhi, had been murdered. I threw the paper down and headed back to the bus stop only to find a dazzling creation of almighty, a pretty lady, sitting there. I had no idea how my eyes missed her arrival.

 She was beautiful. Not solely because of her wide eyes and graceful features, but also because of what she was reading - “Evil under the sun.” And how can one reader not walk up to another on finding her reading his favourite book? The more I walked towards her, the more beautiful she seemed to be. It seemed as if she was stealing all the glow from the moon, to look the way she looked that night

. I swallowed the lump of hesitation down my throat and went ahead to initiate the conversation. In the next few minutes she electrified my senses with her know-how of Agatha Christie. Unfortunately, the arrival of bus impeded our conversation. As soon as I caught the bus, I turned back to ask her something, which I should’ve asked her earlier, her name.

 ''Hey, your name?'' 

''Vandana Desai'' she smiled. 

And in her smile I saw the reflection of the photograph I had seen in the half torn newspaper. 

''Who are you talking to young man?'', asked the conductor. 

“Evil under the moon” I replied as I saw the vacant seat at the bus stop.

-Ayush Srivastava

Destiny

It's 11:45pm and I feel so sleepy. Whole day long I have been working and I feel so tired right now but still my eyes are wide open. I look at the clock, still 14 minutes to go. Tick tock, tick tock, I see the minute bar of the clock constantly moving. TIME and DESTINY are those two golden words which just makes me feel speechless. So ironic right?

I know, you must be wondering what am I talking about. Well, I am talking about "HER". You know, she is turning 18 in a few minutes, yes, it's her birthday. I am so glad today and obviously I want to be the first person to wish her but I just feel like time is moving so fast. Seems like yesterday when we celebrated her 17th birthday and now I see her, it's been an year but still I feel like it's a matter of a while ago. At times, I feel so strange when I see life and time taking new turns and exploring new junctures so fast. Is it magic or is it destiny?

DESTINY, a small word with a really big significance. I feel no matter what we think, what we plan, what we desire. Whatever is written, is written and it will happen no matter what. Yes, in this past 1 year, we argued, we faught and even broke up but still we got to be together and this is what destiny is. Those who are meant to be together, will be together. May be that's why even after so many cumbersome problems I am again here, waiting, waiting to wish her on her birthday. I didn't even realize when the clock struck 12. I called her, she picked, I was silent for a moment, a tear dropped from my eye. "Atleast wish me you fool" she said amusingly.

I wiped my small tear and said "I love you so much" She seemed a bit stunned but I could feel how glad she was hearing it coz she knew those words came out straight from my heart. I said, "Happy birthday and I wish in future also we celebrate every birthday of yours together, love you so much" I think my words were her best birthday gift ever, I could feel that somehow. After conversing with her and feeling the love I realized that LIFE IS DESTINY.

Yes, we don't know if in future, we will be together or not, neither do we know how things are gonna work but we just know one thing that our love is true and pure, we have faith on ourself and on our love, somewhere at the core of our heart we know, may be we are meant to be together, forever and ever but we have now left it all on destiny, to play it's role. Today, I just pray and I just wish to be with her always, I just wish for her well being and to celebrate her every birthday, joyfully, till I take my last breath............

-Ayush Srivastava

Nothing Last Forever

It's raining outside. Atmosphere has cooled down since the rain begin. I am lying under the blanket on my bed and fan above is moving slowly. A sweet slow music from my phone makes perfect atmosphere to write.

You know nothing last forever. There is nothing that stays same forever. If it was so, the coffee wouldn't cool, cigarette wouldn't end, and feeling, they Would always remain the same.

It all start from the day you meet someone in your life. You start sharing everything, from asking for food, hobbies and hell lot stuffs. Days keep passing by and you think she is your soulmate.

But then the frequency of conversation starts interrupting and equilibrium of relationship starts shaking. Sometimes you cry silently and sometimes there is a rain of harsh argument.... Hatred starts buzzing your mind and who's not familiar with the result.... Once Best friends, now strangers.

'' Rim-jhim, Rim-jhim baras rahi thi, uski yaadey quatra-quatra...''

the pain breaks the bond.. Makes you mad but you can't do anything... The only solution is to keep quite because talking on the same can make the things more complicated. Moreover what's the point in rebuilding the burnt relationship. No matter how hard you try, you can't get that feeling back...

''Barish or mohabbat dono hi bohat yaadgar hote hai..,

Barish mein jism bheeg jata hai, or mohabbat me ankhain.''

Nothing last forever.. Not even the sleepless nights and hopeless days..

-Ayush Srivastava.

Love With The Sea

There once was a man who fell in love with the sea. When he woke in bed at night, he did not look at his wife. He did not touch the thighs that he had been given by her, or gaze with desire at the nipples that had hardened in the cold that the wind brought in. He rose instead, slipped out of the white sheets, and went to the window. He listened to the waves; he watched them as they hit the shore. The moon appeared in patches on the surface, and he wished that he could be the moon, spreading skin against skin. After many nights of gazing, he could not wait any more.
 For the first time in a long time, he looked at his wife after waking. In the darkness, he made out what he could of her: the gleam of her teeth, wet with the spit that had come from behind them, her dark long legs tangled in the whiteness of the sheets. He did not kiss her. He did not want to wake her. He did not light a candle, and walked slowly, to be sure that when he walked upon the floorboards, they would not make their noise. When he reached the beach, the sand was wet and sank below his steps. When he reached the dock, it was slick and moaned beneath him. As he touched the water, he took a breath and closed his eyes.

 In the meantime, his wife was dreaming. She dreamt of him, of how loving he had been in the forest where they had met, in the time before they had gone to make their living by the sea. She remembered how he called her “flower”; she remembered how she called him “bee.” When the winter wind broke into the room, it suddenly awakened her. For a moment she had forgotten of his loss of love, and touched her hand to the mattress where he should have been. The imprint of his body was still there, but he was not. In the darkness, she looked for him, but she could not find the familiar shape. She made an effort to return to sleep, but the cold would not allow it. She rose from bed, the sheets wrapped like a coat around her. Something in the sea, perhaps the something that had always drawn him, drew her toward it. She rubbed her fingers together as she walked, and felt the grains of sand that had collected beneath her nails. She smelled the sea, tasted the rot that drifted in from the canneries, no matter how often they were cleaned. She lifted her face out the window and looked. She saw what she always saw: the town, the docks, the moon, the sea. She closed her eyes. Thinking of him, she licked her lips and tasted the salt and the water. As she touched herself, she took a breath and closed her eyes.....

-Ayush Srivastava

It's just like being Alive!

"What was it like being in a relationship with her?" my best friend Gaurav asked me as we walked from our lab to our classroom.

I tried to frame an appropriate answer. It took a bit too long. By the time we reached the classroom, Gaurav had already forgotten about his question. He just sat down on an empty desk and started fiddling with his books.

I sat down beside him, but that unanswered question still occupied my mind.

What exactly was it like being in a relationship with her?

I looked outside through the window. A post-autumnal tree stood embarrassed, its leaves having been withered away by the weather. The squirrels that usually ran up and down that tree all day were now missing, probably running up and down another tree that had not shed its leaves yet, or may be they were just hibernating.

And I started thinking about the time when she had not entered my life, and how much like that tree I really was.

Sad. Hopeless. Forsaken.

And suddenly Gaurav remembered about his question again.

"So, what was it like being in a relationship with her?" he asked me.

"It's like being alive," I replied.

      

-Ayush Srivastava

Life Goes ON

."Life goes on" he had heard,

"Why Life wasn't going on" he wondered.

"Kuch khata nai hai" His mom was so fed up of his eating habits.
He missed those "Khana khaya ?" Texts, No one Knew.

He used to chat till 4 a.m, Once
He cries till 4 a.m , Now

"College mein kuch padhai ka hota nhi" his reason for not to go to college.
"Mujhe nhi jaana kahin" was a weird sentence at his age.

'Aaj shave karani hai, Use beard nahi pasand' - Once
'Jungli sa kyu bana rehta hai' - His Dad, Now

He was the star of his class in school, Once
No one even knew if he existed , Now

He was the leader of the most popular boys group, Once
Forgot how it was to have friends, Now

Had the best collection of Songs, Once
Please add music to play, His Phone's music Player said, Now

This pain is supposed to be psychological,He used to think

Whenever he felt a hole in his chest every now and then.

"Life goes on" he had heard,
"Why Life wasn't going on" he Wondered.

"Pagal" She used to say him,

"Pagal" He was Now