The wedding photographer

She was everything you could ask in a girl. Smart, witty, caring, outgoing but rooted at the same time. A pretty face adorned with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. It would light up my day. I knew I was falling for her since the day I met her. She had come to my shop to get some photographs developed. I was no commercial success by any measure, but the humble shop was all I owned and worked at to earn my living. She on the other hand came from a well to do family in town. A family which had friends in the rich circle of the society, where bank balances were the only entry pass. Though all the moolah had not spoilt her. She didn't believe in measuring people with the depth of their pockets. One quality of hers which made me feel that I could stand up to her and pour my heart out and not expect to be flicked away as a man with no equal status. But how would I expect her to even acknowledge my existence. A quick look at where I stood in the scheme of things made me feel like a pauper dreaming forever to get together with this princess.

If only I had enough money... was all that I was thinking that day, when I was approached by someone who seemed interested in getting wedding photography done. I wasn't inclined as I felt it was mundane and less rewarding. But when I came to know the amount they were willing to pay, I realised that this was no ordinary wedding. Some big shot was throwing a wedding party of the decade. And I knew this would be my chance to earn some serious money.I thought maybe it wont be enough to match the status of my princess, but I would definitely be in a better position to approach her.

Lady luck smiled on me few days later. I was about to close my shop, when she came out of no where to drop of some pictures to be developed. Normally I would have asked the customer to come back the next day, but how could I refuse her. It was pretty late in the evening anyway, so after I was done, I offered to walk her to her place if she didn't mind. She hesitated but agreed. We were silent for most of the walk. I was trying hard to find some words to say, while she was busy checking some messages on her phone. Finally our paths separated. All she said was "Thanks" and all I did was curse myself for having wasted such an opportunity. Who knows when would I be given such a chance again.

She didn't come to collect those pictures for almost two weeks. By then I was getting busy with my schedule and also make preparations for the big shot wedding that I was going to shoot. Ours was a small town, but on that big wedding day, people were swarming all over the place. Clearly the hosts had a lot of money to splurge. I made it on time and starting looking around the place. That's the problem with these big people. They never deal with you directly, some manager or deputy does the work for them. So my first task was to hunt down the man who had come to my shop and discussed things with me. I had to let him know that I was on the job and tell me who all should make it in family album. I learnt the extravagant wedding was of the son of a leading business consultant who was based in Delhi. 'Mittal Consultancies' was a rising star in that business space. I didn't bother myself with other details that were being told and quickly got to my job...greeting guests with a friendly smile and asking them to pose for photographs.

Rich people are so fond of themselves. Every photo I took had people pampered by lots and lots of money. After spending about an hour or so I was no longer interested in clicking these people. I thought I should move on to click snaps of the bride and the groom. I was eagerly waiting for them to make their appearance. I had to wait for some more time, until somebody announced that the bride was walking down the stairs. I quickly moved ahead and prepared my camera to zoom in on her. As I focused on her face, I could not believe who I was seeing in that bridal outfit all set to be married away. That pretty face adorned by a beautiful smile. I heard a loud shattering sound. It could have been wine glasses or a glass decoration but that shattering sound was in fact my poor heart. I was in disbelief. I had flashbacks of her and our walk that evening and how I failed to say something and how she was busy messaging on her phone. Had I dared to fly on wings of love only to crash this way?

I walked up to her wanting to say something. Maybe stop her from going away and tell her how I felt about her. She gave me confused look and said "Excuse me, do I know you?". I heaved and closed my eyes. She had never noticed me. Not from behind the counter of my shop or even after that walk which meant so much to me and made me cling onto some hope."Weh.. Wedding photographer .. madam, how about a close up for the album?" was all that I blurted. I captured a picture perfect face in that frame and a last glimpse of her in my heart. How I carried myself for the rest of the function isn't something that I know for sure. But it hurt. Pangs pierced deep within. The heaviness I carried inside of me was too much to handle. I crashed on the ground gasping for breath.

No! This can't be!! I jolted from my sleep. Beads of sweat resting on my forehead. What a freakish nightmare! Losing the love of your life and that too in such circumstances was enough to give me a mild panic attack. And in that state of panic I turned to my wife, who slept peacefully unaware of what had just happened. The serene look on her face calmed me down. It was only a dream. I turned to the other side to check the time. 2:45 in the morning. And then I glanced at the photo frame by the clock which had my wife's picture in it. A beautiful close-up taken on our wedding. I noticed the frame carefully. In the corner it read, "Mittal Studios - Proprietor Arun Mittal".

Weird, I thought. Was I just dreaming what could have been this man's story in real life? After a long pause, I dismissed that thought and dozed off to sleep, praying no more nightmares for the rest of it.

My reminiscent diary

I was cleaning my bookshelf the other day. The pile was just building up, begging me for a much pending clean up. As I started with dusting the shelves and removing the books, I reached to the farthest end and caught hold of something. Something I had kept there long back, well hidden from view. It was my personal diary.

Well, I started writing this diary when once I woke up in the middle of the night fearing that one day I might loose all the cherished memories of life unless I found a way to preserve them. I made it a habit to write the diary and it was my prized possession. I wrote a lot. A lot about childhood, friends, school, everything I was lucky enough to have. Episodes gradually moved to graduating from engineering to taking up the first job. Many names made their way into the diary. Names that meant the world to me. This was one place I could visit at will and relive all the good times I had experienced.

No sooner, one name started frequenting much more than others. Soon I was filling out pages, writing about how I met her, how I felt about her, things I liked about her. In more pages to follow, no names of my friends got a mention, no incidences about work made their way into the diary. It was just me and her. I was in love and the diary was my rendezvous with her. It was here that I had written many things even before telling her in person.

It had everything. The first poem I wrote for her, followed by many others over the time. Vivid memories of my first date with her. My anticipations, my inhibitions, my confrontations. Everything. I found it easy to write down the stuff to clear the clutter from my mind. I was thinking too much and too far. Could I help it? No. Did I like it? Yes.

And then one day, the writing just stopped. Last few pages being a painful saga of things not fallen into place. I found solace in writing it down. Trying to analyse what went wrong. Few questions were left unanswered. I let them be. Simply accepted the fact and moved on. Thinking that it would be as easy as it sounded. The writing stopped abruptly, never to be resumed again.

It was reminiscent of a many things as I laid my hands on that diary after so many years. I took the effort to read through it. Knowing it would be a mistake to do so, I still skimmed through. As I read through to the last page, I could see how things have changed over the years. The very first thing I realised was about the poems. Poetic talent sincerely eludes me now. I just don't get the meaning. Could I have been that "poetic" then? I read about things that I'd rarely do now. Could I have been that hopeless a romantic? I could not believe it was me writing these things few years back. 'Creativity is at its zenith when in love'. If what I read in an article long back were true then surely this diary was my creative best. All for someone who held a special place in my heart then. 

I cannot relate with anything of the sort now. All the creativity and emotions disappeared the day I stopped writing that diary. I swore never to write in it again. Things have changed. Hopefully for good. I don't long to go back to being how I was a few years back. Nor does it hurt not to have lived and fulfilled the things I wanted to do then.

A unfulfilled love, an incomplete diary, frail traces of a creative me...maybe these are some things I can live with. It just does not matter anymore. As for the said person in the diary, I hope she will be happy with whichever path she chooses to move on.

Time to put the diary back in its place. Have some cleaning to do.

In my memories

Its been long since we said goodbye, but somewhere at the back of my mind, I have this fabulous memory of you. Of us. And of a dream.

There is a part of me that wants to stay with you forever. And however impossible it may seem, I want to make it happen. I might have said that I have moved on and am looking forward to great things happening in my life. That's a lie I keep telling myself. Its hard to believe that you are gone. Even harder to convince myself that you never existed. That's an extreme but only way to get over you. The harder I try to forget you, the more I cannot. And all just comes back to me. Fresh. Sweet. Fabulous.

Often I can't think beyond you. All the thoughts of that special person begin and end with you.Yesterday, I was telling myself that it's been so long, I'd probably forgotten how you look. And then your beautiful smile flashed across my mind. Followed by a million things about you. Who said I'd ever forget anything!

Maybe its the silence of the night and few cans of Budweiser that are doing the talking. But all the inebriation does not stop me from thinking clear.

What I realise is, there was a past for me. A past of us. But you have moved on and so should I. I know I make things difficult for myself. Wish I had an erase button to just wipe out those memories. But I don't. I try my best to forget. But I can't.

Life will take its course from here, as I tread on a new path everyday. Someday, there will be someone to accompany me. It won't be you. I know. But should I feel the need for your presence, I'd know just the place to find you. Because in my memories, I'd have you.

Mission: Introduction

It was a breezy evening and I was walking back home. I glanced at my watch and gasped, "I should have been home by now. Can't be late for dinner!" and started with a faster pace almost breaking into a run. In that hurry, I just looked up at a new building in our neighborhood. It was a recent construction and not many people had moved in. Few lights illuminated the halls and terraces of some flats. I had never seen this building in daylight and wondered that it must look really beautiful.

Someone caught my attention and as I looked from the corner of my eye, there she was standing. A perfect knockout with all the right curves at the right places. My heart jumped with joy with this new discovery at a stones throw from my apartment. The terrace where she stood was not well illuminated, so I could not have a look at the face. But with a body like that, I was sure god must have given a gorgeous face too.

I could not sleep that night. The eagerness and excitement was keeping me awake. I chalked out a plan and if all went well, I would have my chance at an intro with that beauty.

The next day, it was time to put the plan in action. But as luck would have it, I was too busy at the college that day and then went over to a friends place for dinner. All the time I was thinking that no matter what happens I will make things happen the next day. And so I thought for the next day and the next and the next.

I could not believe how things were keeping me away from the numero uno task on my list. And the longer things were taking, the more anxious and excited and determined was I becoming. That evening I was passing by her building and instinctively looked at the apartment on forth floor. There she stood again and my steps stopped in their track. I waved at her and shouted hello. What was I doing? I did not know and certainly did not care. But she did not reply. Might have not seen or heard me either, I thought.

That night I dreamt of my first date with her. She was certainly the most gorgeous looking girl, way ahead of even the best looking girls in my college. Was I in heaven or what? Was I dreaming in my dream!? And when she spoke, it felt as if flutes and harps were mesmerizing me with the sweetest music. We talked and laughed and shared a wonderful time. I could see that she was also interested in me and something told me that we could surely hit it off.

I woke up the next day and made a resolution. Come what may I am having my introduction with her today. I rehearsed my plan, the opening lines, the escape route (in case her dad answered the door), got into my killer casuals and set out on my mission. Mission: Introduction.

As I approached the building and was about to enter the gates, something familiar caught my eye. Was she standing there waiting for me!? My heart missed a beat and I stepped back to have a look at her in daylight. This was it. The first time I would have a look at that gorgeous face. And as I looked up and understood the reality of the situation, my heart broke into a million pieces. All the dreams and fantasies came crashing down. The flowers that I had brought fell to the ground. The knockout girl that I was dying to meet was a cardboard cutout for a camera company, who had recently setup office from the rented apartment. Ironically, their punch line, below the cutout, read : We bring pictures to life.

Akash and Anoushka

He waited for her that evening, with the same rush in his heart as the day he first saw her. They had been friends ever since, but he thought of no reason to settle for just a friend. His mind was already taken away into a beautiful fantasy which he believed were true and sought to live in it. The evening was about to change it all. He knew it but did not want to believe it.

Akash never believed in love at first sight until about a year back when he saw this angel walking towards him. Anoushka was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Glittering eyes, sparkling smile and charming grace which very few girls carried around this well. He knew he had been hit by a thunderbolt and suddenly nothing started to make sense. He couldn't help but fall for this enchanting beauty.

Their friendship soon blossomed but the relationship never found a new name called love. Akash was so deeply in love with Anoushka that he could not risk what he had, lest she put an end to their relation after knowing what was on his mind. This fear of losing her made him loose on those countless moments when he could have made a honest confession of his heart and win the heart of his lady love. Every time he thought he should go and tell her, a second voice in his head kept saying that maybe he should wait for a right moment. And that right moment never came.

That evening the same old rush through his heart made him realise what he was about to lose, probably forever. The biggest decision of Anoushka's life was made and this evening would probably be the last as well, when they would meet and have a long conversation. There were a million things he wanted to say. Things which had been buried deeply within his heart, which simply refused to accept that she has now committed to someone else.

Nevertheless he spoke his heart out that evening. With every word his voice grew weak, fearing to admit that he did not know what to do after she would leave him. She listened quietly and reciprocated , after a long silence, with similar emotions. She admitted to have had a thing for him and though she had realised Akash's intentions, she never responded because she was never able to make up her mind, until it was too late.

That conversation was probably the longest and the most intimate one they ever had. They did not want to leave until the clock reminded her that it was late and it was time to bid a last goodbye. She shook his hand with a heartfelt gesture, he wanted to hold on to it for ever but knew he had run out of time. There was silence in the air and though the world around them was busy as a bee, time stood still for them as each wanted to live this moment forever.

Anoushka got married a month later. Akash was never more heart broke than on that day. But in that grief there was a relief, a consolation that Anoushka would be happy wherever she is all her life.That is what Akash prayed every single moment of his life. Though the marriage effectively ruined their friendship. Its wasn't that he didn't want to be in touch, talk to her or share a happy moment, but he still feared, feared his failure, feared that past will grip him again and cause him the pain he suffered ever since Anoushka decided to marry someone else. It wasn't easy to give up on his first and only love. But he had little choice.

Still a year after her marriage, Akash hasn't found a reason to move on. He still dwelves in his dreams and fantasies where he first met Anoushka. He has all the reasons to let her go but not willing to.If only he could convince himself, he would be able to do justice to their friendship and keep fond memories of his love for her in his heart forever, which will never hurt anyone.

When I cry alone...

Life has been fair to me. Always. Almost.

No matter how lively I feel everyday and however upbeat the moods may seem, certain things of the past break me down. Shatter the jovial mask that I wear around, because deep down under, the toughest call has been a matter of the heart.

Yeah, was love struck at 22 and lived a dream for an eternity. She was beautiful. Like an angel sent from the heavens above. Night and day, she was all that I could think of. It was an ecstatic feeling and I was carried away into a world of trance never wanting to come back. But love can be a tricky emotion, and games were what my mind was playing on me. No doubt the dream was beautiful but what I probably was never prepared for was what if all this ceased to exist one day. What if I woke up one day to find the shattered pieces of this dream. That is when life started to feel unjust. Things fell apart and the pang was too deep to recover from.

Sometimes, at night, when I lay in bed, all the memories start flooding back. Things could have been better, definitely. But from where I see it now, I feel helpless. Helpless because circumstances will never favor me again. There was a time when maybe some decision would have made things work my way. But the moment had passed. This helplessness makes me realize how weak one can be at times. No matter what I do, it seems all the more difficult to draw the strength to face the truth. I am still struggling to hold on when there is nothing to keep.

A broken heart. A lost love. A shattered dream. I feel the pain of these reminiscent thoughts and I cry alone...