The Unstable Atom

Reflecting over life through weird, crazy, ever changing, euphoric, absurd, confused and at times impartial lenses -a journey of curiosity and questions with my two alter egos.. as I try to fall out of the stagnation of instability.. or the desperate attempt to remain..

Ravi sat on the edge of the bed. It wasn't an usual thing for him to do. Being on the edge like that. It was her's. He looked on observing every movement of her's as she stood in front of the mirror. He always observed her. She wasn't the fussy kind when it came to her looks. Yet, now she pinched and rubbed at the fine lines which started appearing around her sensuous mouth a short while ago.. He sat watching, a faint smile dying away on his lips, throat going dry by the moment, it wasn't lust or love, it was guilt, cowardice. He struggled with the words in his throat, they gurgled incoherently. He was scared. He knew she was aware of him, each moment, even if she pretended otherwise. She was always, it surprised him. Meera stole a look at him from the corner of her eye as she lined her eyes with kohl. Her smile was derision. She knew exactly how he felt. There was a time when she used to feel guilty for making him feel that way through her actions. Even if she was hurt, she felt guilty for hurting him back even unknowingly. But then that was long ago, when there were no lines, just a bit of acne. When they were younger, much younger and alive. Now, she felt dead, like the patches of skin on her face. She had prayed, she had begged. She remembered clearly, each expression on his face, the coldness in his eyes. Now he sat here like an innocent thing. She felt nothing. She had warned him. In her fits of rage and agony, she warned him each time. She begged to him to not let her die, but he never understood. And here they were once again.
Ravi cleared his throat, playing with the edge of the bed sheet, it comforted him, he had once told her. One of the very few things he shared about himself. She continued to apply mascara, it meant she was almost done getting ready. "I love you", her heart skipped a beat. It shocked her. The words and the nerve. She turned back to look at him fully, beautifully dressed as usual. He recalled the numerous times she dressed and would wait for his approval, for his attention. His eyes pleading, her's stone cold. "Really? So?". He knew he had lost her long back. Why she was still there was a mystery to him, he was grateful. "Forgive me please". "So that you can hurt me again? Not that i can feel it anymore" She lied. She was dead she felt it, but she felt the hurt too. Like a dull thud, like the way the inside of your cheek feels when you bite it while its under anesthesia during a root canal. You do feel it. "I'm sorry, I know its meaningless to you now, but still I am". "Doesn't matter. Nothing changes. I hope you are ready, they will be here anytime now". He kept looking on. She could see that frustration and anger slowly rise inside him. And she stared back, daring him to raise his voice. She always stood up to him. Of late he had stopped letting his frustration show. "Too late" she thought. He lowered his eyes and got up to change. She left the room and a draft of cold air engulfed him. Rain in March! Her birthday, her love, she's leaving. Of all the things that he never fathomed about her, this was one. She tried but he could never reach her. They were just two very different people. It was not that cold, and he was always warm but he shivered as he pulled on the shirt. She had only left the room but the void in his heart grew. "Now I know what she talked about, each passing moment and more space. I deserve this". He heard the car downstairs and sighed. This was a part of the punishment, watching her smile, watching her have fun and never being the reason behind it. He didn't know that it was a bigger punishment for her than it was for him. For she always loved more.