She wasn’t my forever

The fragrance of the perfume woke me up this morning; the moment it filled my nostrils, I flashed back to a moment, a very vague one.

“What perfume is it?…the smell is too good…” I recalled myself saying to her.

“I don’t know…sneaked it out of mom’s room…” She’d started laughing hysterically.

And then I planted a kiss on her cheek.

I opened my eyes and looked in the direction where the smell came from.

“Why’re you up so early?” My wife asked, spritzing the perfume behind her ears.

I sniffed it and let out a sigh; “the smell woke me up…” I said softly.

“Oh! is it too loud?…I though so too, but the smell was irresistible, you know!” She laughed lightly.

“…so is the memory attached to it.” I muttered under my breath.

My wife left for work. Getting off my bed, I pulled back the curtains and looked through the glass window. For reasons unknown, I didn’t feel like hurrying up or getting ready for work.

That memory of her still lingered in my mind. Why all of a sudden did I remember her? I wasn’t supposed to, not because I wanted to forget her or I dreaded the memories. She had always been there in my memories; Sometimes I found her in my wife’s giggles, sometimes in a child’s laughter, or in the smirk of my cranky boss and sometimes in a very old song. I couldn’t recall the lyrics of it, so I started humming the tune.

There was no regret, neither was there any grief for I knew I didn’t really lose her. She didn’t lose me either. We were never meant to be together; there were no dreams, no expectations, no strings attached. Yet we both knew there was a connection, a bond that couldn’t be broken by parting ways.

We never cried for each other, rather we celebrated the day we broke off. It was her idea; she wanted to celebrate each and every day of her life. I wasn’t like her; I wasn’t happy that day, so I sat in a corner and watched her dance like crazy. Was she dancing like that just to stop the sadness from reaching her heart? Maybe, maybe not. Her madness was always unpredictable.

I smiled, leaning against the window. We’d lost touch with each other after a year or two. But she, her smile and her babbles never really left my heart. She still had the capability to make my day just with a glimpse of her in my dream.

I grabbed my mobile, texted my boss that I needed a sick day and made myself a cup of hot coffee. It seemed like a perfect day to reminisce the memories of my ex-girlfriend and a relationship that we both had promised to celebrate forever.

– Chirasree, a dreamer.

My silly best friend

“Scooby!! it’s not a ball…come back.” She shouted to me.

“She’s so dumb!…can’t she see it’s round?…it has to be a ball!!” I woofed and ran faster. Anyway she seldom understood what I said when I barked.

I’d never seen a ball like that before. What was it made of? I could see the sky through it. Unlike other balls, it was bigger and colorless, flying slowly with its edge waving back and forth.

“I’m falling in love…” I blinked, then barked, feeling ecstatic.

She laughed harder; “You’re a silly dog!!” She shouted.

“She never gets me…silly girl!!” I barked angrily.

I reached for it but the ball flew higher; was it playing with me too? I lifted my front legs and jumped higher. It was right in front of my eyes; I widened my mouth and…

“Yes!!! I grabbed it…” I barked, turning towards my friend.

But it disappeared; where did it go?

“You poor thing! I told you it wasn’t a ball…you popped the bubble.” She caressed my head.

Laying my head in her lap, I barked – “you don’t get me all the time, still you’re my best friend.”

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– Chirasree, a dreamer.

(Word count – 196)

Photo(Featured image) credit – Selsmith 

Photo prompt – Fortnight Friday Fables #1

I hushed up love

“…don’t say it…you’ll hurt yourself…” I said over the phone.

“I’m already hurting…” He replied.

We hung up. I was relieved that he listened to me, that he didn’t say it; or so I convinced myself. Why did I not want him to say it out loud? Would it have mattered? My heart hushed me – ‘don’t say it…don’t think it…let it go…

The next morning I was sitting with my boyfriend in a cafe; we held hands, he kissed me and said – “I love you.”

I didn’t think twice before saying, “I love you too.” The words brought a sense of relief to my heart. I knew I didn’t lie, my heart agreed; my head said – ‘yes, indeed you do…but….‘ my heart cut it out and whispered – ‘there’s no ‘but’…

My phone buzzed – “You know what I feel for you is far more liberating than what he feels for you…I don’t expect you to say it back.” The text was from him.

I didn’t know what to call him. I could’ve easily called him my friend, but my feelings for him wasn’t that easy to put into words. Neither was it so complex that I could name him ‘my love’. He was neither.

I had already found the love of my life and I was happy with him. But I couldn’t deny the fact that this man I met a couple of months back had triggered a storm within my heart which would otherwise have remained asleep thinking its job was done for this lifetime.

Yes, my purpose is served…let me sleep…‘ my heart shouted back.

You’re a coward…You never accept your own sin...’ my head replied.

Feeling knackered, I closed my heavy eyelids. I expected to see my boyfriend’s face, much to my surprise, I saw another vague face in a distance. I could’ve seen it vividly, had I tried. But I opened my eyes and dialed his number.

“You’re making it difficult for me…why don’t you go away?” I snapped, as soon as he answered.

“It’s not me, it’s you who’s making it difficult…by not letting me say it out loud.” He replied in a calm voice.

I remained silent.

“I love you…” He finally uttered the words that I dreaded. Surprisingly, it brought a strange calmness to my heart and a peaceful silence to my head; I could feel the storm fading away slowly.

“I don’t expect you to say it back…” he continued, “…but do say it when you’re alone, whisper it so the words don’t reach your heart, and ask your head to keep it a secret for your head cannot be fooled. Good bye…”

Our paths never crossed again. It was the final goodbye. I didn’t have enough courage to do what he said, but I did ask one question to my heart and my head –

“Is it wrong to love them both? Is it really a sin?…”

– Chirasree, a dreamer.

The dead fish

“The fish is dead…” my brother sighed in disappointment and added, “…but we provided it with seawater, food, oxygen…we decorated the aquarium with colorful lights…we did everything to keep it alive, didn’t we?”

“Probably what we called its home was nothing but an enclosure; however much you decorate it, it still remains painful…” I looked intently at the dead fish.

“…the only difference is we humans don’t die so easily…we keep calling that cage our home throughout life, and end up living with a broken heart and a dead soul…” my heart ached for it.

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– Chirasree, a dreamer.

Three Line Tales

It took us ages…

 

The waiter pointed to the far corner.

I looked around the cafe; it was mostly filled with young crowd. I walked to table no.19.

I sat down and wondered – “Will I recognize him? What if he looks different from his photo?”

“Hi…” hearing his voice, I looked up.

I smiled nervously, dropping my eyes. He sat down across from me and asked – “Tea, right?…you always hated Coffee…”

“He still remembers…” my heart whispered. “Yeah…without milk and sugar.” I said softly.

We sat silently; He stared at me, whereas I avoided looking in his eyes.

“I see you looking at your watch…are you getting late?”

“Actually they’ll get worried if I don’t reach home before it gets dark.”

He laughed out loud – “Nothing has changed, right?…except now you’re 60 and I’m 65. Before it was our parents and now it’s our children.”

I started laughing too and looked in his eyes for the first time after 42 years, 5 months and 10 days.

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– Chirasree, a dreamer.

(Word count – 164)

Photo credit: Dawn Miller.

Thank you Dawn for the photo prompt!

FFfAW Challenge

Love that turned gray

Falling in love with him was difficult, but I did.

People say they fall a little bit more in love everyday. Yes, I remember that kind of love; one that touched my heart once, one that brought a smile to my face every morning. I don’t feel that love anymore, yet I remember a smell that resembles that love. I can’t tell what smell it is; is it that of a flower? Or is it that of a fragrance he used once upon a time? I cannot tell for the memory is too vague.

Hating him is easy, yet I can’t.

I don’t even force myself to hate him, although that is the very thing he deserves. Even if I do that, will my heart hate him? I can’t help but laugh at my own question.

Not wanting to see him is easy, but then why do I get worried when he’s not around?

Leaving him was the right thing to do, but my legs froze when he asked – ‘Would you stay?’ I did, knowing I might regret it.

He said – ‘I need you.’ I kept mum, and my innocence blushed inside.

Now I wonder what if I didn’t stay, what if I answered – ‘yes, I’m nothing but one of your needs…why don’t you want me?…why don’t you desire me the way I did?’

It was difficult falling in love again with the man who cheated on me, but I did.

– Chirasree, a dreamer.

Daily prompt: Gray

Young Phoenix award!! Yayyyy

Hey bloggers,

I would like to share my joy with you all today as I received the ‘Young Phoenix Award’ from Idealize blog. This means a lot to me. Thank you so much all of you for loving my stories.

About the award:

In Greek mythology, the phoenix was a long–lived bird that cyclically regenerated or was reborn.

Associated with the Sun, a phoenix obtains new life by arising from the ashes of its predecessor. According to some sources, the phoenix dies in a show of flames and combustion, although there are other sources that claim that the legendary bird dies and simply decomposes before being born again.

This is the impression of regeneration I get after reading posts from other bloggers out there. Some people have that ability to give back a stolen smile and mend a broken heart through their art. This is exactly what I would like to recognize and award today.

Rules for the awardee:

  1. In the hope of preserving the authenticity of this award, only one blogger is to be awarded by the recipient who forwards it to his/her next Phoenix. (Let’s keep this chain moving while rewarding the best please).
  2. Awarding is done by presenting the blogger and post extract considered as a Phoenix via a post with a link to the phoenix post. Explain why this post is your Phoenix. Notify the lucky blogger.
  3. 5 random questions can be asked to the awardee.
  4. Please remember to appreciate the award and the blogger who thought of you for this award.
  5. Display your award for all to see and be proud to call yourself a phoenix.
  6. Mention the creator of the award and please don’t let the chain die out.

It’s my turn to give away the award:

…So the award goes to – Storyteller

…The post of Storyteller that I consider a Phoenix is – The moon.

I would request you all to give this post a read. This is one of the most amazing posts I’ve read lately. Well done, storyteller.

To Idealize , I really can’t think of enough words to thank you for this award. This made my day. You always inspire me with your posts, and your appreciation is my motivation. Thank you for creating this wonderful award.

******It’s time to check out my award ******** sketch_20170328213502.jpg