Some Dreams are Drafts

Love and Ache

July, 2016.

Mumbai.

Mumbai had reached its capacity. It was filled upto the brim with a mixture of ache and love. Love and ache, the two things that get so intertwined at times that it becomes difficult to understand what caused what. Whether it was the love that Bhavika had for Nehal made her feel empty knowing that this was going to be Nehal's last birthday in India, for a while. Or whether it was the pain of separation that was making the love more evident. More vocal. More brave. More desperate. Looking for something to hold on to. Something that would prevent her from sinking into sadness' arms.

Mumbai wanted to scream and be heard for all that it was experiencing. It wanted the world to know of its agony yet it kept mum. It stayed silent. Mostly because it was tired of the thunder in its heart. A heart that had been rumbling in silence for far too long. And now, it wanted to be heard. So it took a moment to think, what did it want the world to know? What could be said? Shown? To help the world see its agony. And when Mumbai saw the answer, it knew that the answer would cause a wreckage. It'd dismantle the buildings, break the homes. And Mumbai couldn't bear the sight of this destruction. And so it did, what it always does the best. Distracted itself by becoming busy. It planned the days. Planned the parting gifts. Birthday gifts. Internship work. It disappeared beneath work, letting the hum of keyboard keys rise above the roar of its heart.

However it did not succeed in its plan.

Feelings have a way of catching up to you. Like trains.

Sometimes , even though you'd like nothing more than a fast train that would take you through time, skipping stations that demanded changes, separation, taking charge, being an adult. Stations that sucked at times. Regardless of how much you'd long for these fast trains, there'd be none available. Life would force you to take a slow train, experiencing the plethora of emotions, overthinking through every station, pushing through the crowd, trying to earn a place in this world. Trying to get down where you wanted to. Or were forced to. Depending on the circumstances.

That is exactly what happened the day Nehal's birthday arrived. Bhavika had uttered happy birthday as she held Nehal close but as warm tears fell from her eyes, every pent up emotion was asking for a release. The pride in her eyes shone brightly but so did her love. Love and ache, two of the oldest friends, reuniting again in a Chinese restaurant, blurring the world for a while. And when Nehal replied to Bhavika's birthday wish by telling her that she will miss her too, she let the sadness take control for a while, as well.

It was important. It was natural, human to feel an overwhelming sense of sadness at being robbed of a friend's company. Physical presence. The moment the girls let themselves feel, Mumbai heaved a sigh, releasing its melancholy. It began raining, making it an even better decision to have ordered Chinese. As the two young girls sat next to each other, arms linked as they reminisced that one time they had tried Chinese bhel from their canteen, that one time when the Bhaiya wasn't having that good of a day and had ended up using the sweet chutney instead of the red chilli sauce making the Chinese bhel taste like meethi bhel.

That one day in junior college when they had been furious and had vowed to never eat from the Chinese counter again. But that one day, when they would end up learning that the Bhaiya who was making the bhel was worrying over his twelve year old daughter who had declared that she no longer wanted to study but help bring some money to the house.

The man had ended up yelling at her because with everything that he had in his lanky body, he wanted her to get educated. When he was picking up the chutney he was worried that if someday, something happened to him, his daughter would give up studies altogether. He hadn't been feeling so good off late, health wise but he kept pushing himself to come to work and refused to see the doctor. Just when he decided that he would take tomorrow off, two girls came to him. They were angry but not unkind. They asked him if he had put another chutney by mistake and when he tasted the bhel he had made, his eyes widened with shame. He apologized and told them his mind had been elsewhere. He muttered something about his daughter that Bhavika's ears caught and all her anger took a back seat as she asked him if she was okay.

That man, as Bhavika learnt, was called Kishore, Kishore Dada who was having a bad day.

They spoke to him as much as the break allowed, and after a few days of chat, they offered to meet his daughter and tell her how education could change the course of life.

With time, our girls learnt that it wasn't just education that could change lives. It was time itself. With time, everything had to change.

By the time their hot manchurians arrived, our girls already had runny noses from all the crying but this time they embraced their ache.

It was okay to be a girl who was sad because her bestfriend was leaving to study in another country.

And when the munchow soup cleansed her throat, Bhavika said,

"We'll do it. With so much joy and giggles. Before we know it, we'll have graduated, again. Who knows where we'll meet next. Maybe we'll meet to take a trip to Italy, together. Imagine!!"

And Nehal smiled, already feeling comforted.

"Or maybe I'll find someone for me and befriend his friends so that I can set you up with one of them. And then maybe we'll get married on the same day!!"

Nehal's family members were trying hard to not eavesdrop but they couldn't help but collectively sigh when they heard the two girls say at the same time.

"Maybe it will all work out."

Or maybe not, the elders thought. Bhavika's mother was thinking of her deceased husband. But truth be told, when was she not?

Devang would have been here with them had that terrible accident not claimed his life a decade ago.

Jayesh Desai, Nehal's father, wiped a tear that had slipped from his eyes. If everything had worked out he would still be talking to his brother as his brother and not as his business rival.

Meena Desai, Nehal's grandmother, had a wistful smile. If all had worked out for her she would have gone to school.

Sometimes, the things you want to preserve, rot with time. But the elders had gradually learnt that the rotten plants weren't their fault. They were time's burden to bear.

And some burdens are best borne to those they belong to.

A/n - To days when we cannot and do not want to see the silver linings. It is okay to feel sad upon sighting the grey, gloomy clouds.