CONVERSATION - Story By Jayesh Khare
Was this planned ? No. Was this intended? No. Was this required? Yes. Looking back in time, I do realise that this conversation was quite necessary. We had been avoiding it for as long as we possibly could, at least I had been doing for my part. Sadly, everything does have a breaking point and so did our control. Although fully aware of the circumstances and possibility of such an event, I acted astonished to the best of my capability. After all, couldn’t let the significant other down, even in the worst moments. Despite talking to each other for hours every day, it had been quite a few weeks since we had last emotionally conversed.
I was standing, waiting for a special person, at the same place that I daily did. As I heard hushed footsteps, I could make out who was walking towards me. A few weeks are more than enough to recognise someone’s walk, we had spent a decade together. Once again, I was scared at the nearing of the sound. Nobody wants to face an uncomfortable situation, especially when you could have avoided it.
The footsteps were slowing down, hinting that my true love was uncomfortable to. I could not let that happen at any cost. So as had been happening since the last time we “conversed”, I yet again initiated the dialogue. As we both acted to be engrossed in each other’s words that once meant everything to us, we started walking down the lane to the house that we had always promised to be our “home”. You don’t spend a decade with everyone following the same daily routine. And if you do, there is something special that connects the two of you. We had also believed the same until now when we were the aforesaid “special ones.”
Just a month ago, this time duration was enough for us. We shared everything we possibly could, leaving a few things behind for the letters we wrote each other. It might seem surreal but we did write each other letters, despite meeting every day. We always spoke our heart out in those pieces of paper, a heart we had a long time ago.
Those letters were meant to solve any problem between us, not that we had any. It just felt right to be expressing yourself in writing. After all verbal commitments stand insignificant. As time passed, the frequency of letters decreased but our issues increased proportionately. Neither of us wanted to address those problems, for I was scared of losing everything to a simple issue. About their part, I think I lost the right to comment on their behalf that very day.
As we were nearing the building, void of emotions despite being full of memories, I could truly feel that it was necessary to address the biggest issue we ever had then and there. The receivers of my letter might have thought the same but as usual, we reached the destination before any of us could do anything better. They departed and so did I, leaving for my house. I was pretty relaxed as we had avoided the necessary topic yet another stood before my doorstep, I found something, a letter addressed to me. The author was unknown to me until I saw the writing on the cover page and a glimpse of the “conversation” it was about to initiate.
Finally, a letter was being used for the true purpose we intended. A battle won but a war lost. I went back in, got fresh, unsuccessfully trying to shrug the dread that I had caught having read the mere first line. It took me quite a lot of time to go through it entirely. It talked about all the topics we could never bring up face to face. A long letter of a couple of pages.
As I approached the end, the saddest expectation just came true. As good a writer my much better half was, a mere hint was dropped regarding the only apparent solution at the point in time. Notwithstanding what the letter said to me, I was still in love with the fact that what was written was perfectly drafted for me to think and reply. In absence of the most valued person, we had the “conversation”.
It seemed like the letter could guess where I would respond. Was it my love and presumed understanding that made me feel so or was it so immaculate? I will never know as I could never read that letter again.
The following day, I was again at the same spot, following my decade-old routine. The only hope of sorting things out never arrived. I guess they had changed their routine. Even today, I can feel the desire that I had of speaking face to face one last time. Could things have changed? Maybe.
The necessity of this conversation was that I was talking about is that it told me the importance of confrontation, enjoying life out of a routine and most importantly, not acting like a love-struck bird. The sad part is that now I realise that the letter may have been an offer to start things fresh, in a way that I implement my learnings.
My love never came to the same spot ever. But they did walk down the same lane every day. I never received any further letters but neither did I check my mailbox for any. Even today I think that I misinterpreted the conversation. It was just in my mind, an illusion of my fear coming true.
I was very emotional at that point. I might have exaggerated things to myself. Was the conversation intended the way I took it, I’ll never know. For since that day, I never read the letter again or did I?