Dear Diary…


Dear Diary,

I don’t know what was in it… What happened in those months and why is it gone now …  But I’ll still like to pen down the beginning for you to know…  May be I’m telling you more because I want to tell myself my story again… I don’t know.

It was his essence that captured me every time I’d see him walk into the canteen. He was always busy, never noticed me. I remained like an insignificant little insect hanging in some cobweb in a shabby old library… I loved to feel his presence. I loved to hear his voice, hear him laugh, hear him shout and call someone…  I wished he would utter my name…  But, Diary, he didn’t even know I existed…

Nothing can be better... P.C. - http://3.bp.blogspot.com/
Nothing can be better…
P.C. – http://3.bp.blogspot.com/

I gaped at his face… His forehead never showed. It was always covered in his hair that was never combed! His eyes were gentle and his smile contagious… I watched when he drank water—a droplet or two trickled down his jaw and rolled on the forms of his throat…  Sometimes a droplet glistened in the sunlight that flooded the canteen and I intently followed it till it vanished. I loved to see his lips move while he spoke, I loved to see his throat respond to his laughter… His hands were big. His fingers were long and they looked like some painter’s or guitarist’s but he was neither… He was simple and joyous. He liked having fun and playing tricks that made all ten-twelve in his group laugh at once! When I saw his face, I found myself smiling, every time. And when he ran across the fields, playing with his friends, I would watch. I would take notice of all his moves, all his efforts, all his joy!

I was very afraid to go near him, Diary… I thought he might come to know of what I won’t be telling him… And then? I couldn’t tell him that he made my heart beat faster, my hands sweat and my poor soul squeal…  I could not tell him I’m in love… I’m crazy…

I kept looking... Kept absorbing... P.C. - http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/
I kept looking… Kept absorbing…
P.C. – http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/

I’d climb to the roof of my residence sometimes, in the moonshine, under the open starry sky… Some 10 storeys high… I’d let lose my hair, spread my hands and feel the wind run its fingers through my maddened curls and fill up the gaps between my fingers I’d feel the wind make itself form two strong hands and pull me to an invisible chest, hugging me… I did like it…

Last summer, I sat in the canteen waiting for him… My heart was rushing… There he came. In a frenzy I did something I would have never done otherwise… I ran from my corner to the door and embraced him. I clung to him like I didn’t want to let go. For those few moments, I heard his heartbeats for the first time. It was real! I actually did this… He stood awed. I looked up into his face, and realized… I let go and ran away. The next few days had been too much for me. I was in a stupor of how and why and  I didn’t go to school…

Tight embrace... P.C. - galleryhip.com
Tight embrace…
P.C. – galleryhip.com

But Diary, I had to. I sneaked into my class and everybody seemed to know what I had done. I couldn’t look at anybody except keep looking at the board and the teacher. But something made me look out of the window and there he was, walking past with a friend… His hair shone in the sunlight, I saw his body through the translucence of his shirt, I saw his face… He made me smile…

While I tried to carry my food out from the canteen as discreetly as possible, I realized I wasn’t the insignificant insect in a cobweb… I wasn’t invisible anymore… It was uncomfortable. I slipped away. In the shade of the old oak tree near the far away corner of our premises, I sat and silently ate. A pair of shoes came to see me… They also brought two long legs, the torso, the head, the whole of him…. Oh Diary, you have no idea how badly I wanted to run away. He stood there, smiling and towering over me. I forgot to eat and kept looking at him… Waiting for what’s next.

He kneeled down by me and asked my name. I mumbled. He asked again. I tried to sound louder. My throat was dry. I did tell it. He brought his head closer to me… He put his ear so near to my lips that I could feel the warmth of his skin… And I was afraid that he would feel my hastened breaths. He was too near. The sultry whiff of him… Oh God! I’m so crazy! I said it again. And kept my eyes closed, praying he shouldn’t ask why I did what I did that day… I possibly couldn’t answer, Diary. He did just that. I looked up into his eyes, completely baffled and almost crying. He sat down beside me and took one of my sandwiches… I watched him. He was within inches of me… I could touch him, if I wanted to, you know, Diary… I took deep breaths, absorbing all his scent and essence. But I wouldn’t dare again… He waited… I could neither eat, nor answer him. He ate my sandwich and he got up to go. My heart seemed to sink and feel relieved at the same time. But before he walked away, he said, “I felt very good. Thank you.”

I don't have to wait... P.C. - http://cache.desktopnexus.com/
I don’t have to wait…
P.C. – http://cache.desktopnexus.com/

Diary, just imagine, he liked me… But I guess I can never be so brave again…

But, but, he stood there, waiting for me to pack up. I got up, he walked me to my class and took my heart with him to his. I had waited too long… Now I don’t have to wait any more, Diary…

Copyright2014. Amrita Kar Roy. All Rights Reserved.

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8 thoughts on “Dear Diary…

  1. Adara does not write…She dips her heart out and then instead of blood…the feelings seep through and accumulate on the blog. We witness her frail and fragile heart cowering with fear and the contemptness she achieves when she finally unites with the person her heart craves for.
    This is beautifully written and I wish I could do something similar but then in reality…Truth is indeed stranger than fiction.
    Exceptionally well written,keeping pre historic concepts-as seen in the current trend-of love in an age of friends with benefits…
    Keep writing…

    Like

      1. Oh please…you are way better!
        In fact had it not been for you, sinful guitarist would never have started this blog to begin with…
        So Adara…take a bow you wonderful person you….
        🙂

        Like

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