Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Ritual.

"Had a birthday party in office Amma. Don't wait for me .. have your dinner ". She giggled as she hung up the phone.It was time for their evening ritual. Of panipuri and coconut water. As she removed the scarf from her face and he removed the helmet, the pani puri walla greeted them with a smile and started making their usual order. "Garmagaram" panipuri followed by a meetha.

"you still want the coconut water ?" He teased when she finished licking the last traces of the masala. "You don't drink water after eating ? Its just like water !" she slammed back.

This was an everyday routine that both loved to do.


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"Ting!" Her cell phone chimed and a picture of Farhan showed up. He had taken a selfie while having his favourite blackbean burger in the hospital cafeteria and the picture was goofy, making her chuckle. She noticed he was wearing the striped blue shirt. That always made him look young. How she missed him.
She was still at her desk, wrapping up an article she was writing. She adjust her hair a little, pouted her lips and took a selfie. "Muah!" She sent him her picture. Her eyes scrolled down at the history of conversations that transpired between them. The last message was just this morning." Good morning beautiful! I hope I can see you tonight .."

Both were waiting for Sunday - the only day they get to be together.

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They retired to bed early that night. She was reading a novel..and her face shone in the dim bedside lamp. He suppressed a laugh as her facial expressions changed while reading the book. He didn't want her to know he was looking at her.

She was startled by sudden sound of shooting. The war had started and he was fully involved in it. It was his favourite game "Clash of clans". She wondered what was so interesting..he had been playing since 2 years now. Nothing could disturb him then. His fingers were moving frantically, probably to replenish his weapons. He looked very focused to win this war. As always. And he would lose. As always. His childish antics charmed her. The boyish side of him kind of filled the stark vacuum of their childless home.
She ran her toes  up his legs, trying to irritate him. No reaction. She gave up and went back to her book.

In two minutes, she was being tickled all over and their laughter faded into the night..

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The creek glistened in the shining sun, sparkling as if covered with a thousand diamonds. The sun was about to set, creating a mesmerizing blanket of sheer beauty on its way down. This was the time he liked the most. It always amused him how the sun, which was shining mightily one moment, slowly faded , without much ado.Without much ego.  How he wished humans behaved that way.

There were a few evening joggers. He sat on the bench, his usual spot. Under a tree. From here, he could watch the hues changing. The skies switching shades from a pleasant blue to a much more somber grey. A goose that was trotting around him all this while, suddenly took flight across the creek.

He felt close to nature. It allowed him to think.

Within no time, it was dusk and then pitch dark.
 

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 Its funny how a routine can bring about that missing spark. Its supposed to be boring , right? I guess its probably because of the comfort we find in each other. In what we do.The predictability of something that is so important to you , that you can let go , and look beyond the seemingly ordinary liaisons. The sweet nothings actually create an emotional connection. You don't plan it, it just happens. Every day, as naturally as it can be. These moments are so simple in their existence that for an outsider, the magic of the moment is often impalpable.

It just takes two hearts and a little bit of devotion for a routine to become a ritual.






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