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Bloody Love

I was bored. The music was pumping. The drinks were flowing. I stood in front of the bar, running my eyes over the couples’ slow dancing. And then I saw her… And she was dressed to kill

“Ashna”… A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous. She is both. .Cheerful, vivacious, exotically beautiful. She had beautiful brown almond shaped eyes, dark auburn hair and every time she smiled one cud see her dimple on her right cheek,
He was drunk. They both were. They had sense left at their bottom. But they were together… and that’s the thing which left me in agony, hatred. And as they tottered forth through the floor to the front door, I felt dejected. Tonight, I will have to follow them.

It was not destined to her, as she reminded of old days. I and this girl, used to be something more than just best friends. We loved each other. We were living in the same apartment building, on the same floor. Back then there were four of us, and we got along well. We would always eat dinner together, watch movies, and sometimes go camping. We were more like a family, but I didn't know I would end up falling in love with the only girl of the four. Maybe it was during the last year of college, having living together for two years, we developed deep feelings for each other. After I graduated I went back home, and she stayed for one more year to finish school.

Now there was someone else to play with .someone else to fall in her trap. Someone foolish enough to trust her. I was foolish .Days passed, and it’s became a pain. Dejected feeling …left in the dark to rot lastly, today, the climax has come. She has chosen her path of lust and disgraces to leave pain were ever she goes, and I have also chosen a path for her – a path for all of them. The three sides of the triangle are going to have the same destiny, tonight.

It was the lake nearby I reached following them.

I remember the day when we last spoke I was just sitting on the benches looking like I wanted to leave. She went to the big oak tree and she was looking for something. I knew she was looking for what we wrote on that tree with a silver ink pen half a year ago. If I remember it right, it said, "Chris and Susan was here, Chris had tea and Susan was drinking hot chocolate. Hope Chris and Susan would always remember this day, always loving each other, forever." She was looking around for quite a while, and then she came back
She said, "Ajay, I can't find it, it's not there anymore."
I felt so sour inside; there was a stream of pain, flowing into my heart, the kind of pain I've never felt before

I remember I closed the gate that would separate me from her forever. I stood by the car, staring in the dark window, at the first love in my life, also the last one, walking out of my life. The car started, driving into the street. Finally I couldn't hold my sorrow and the twist in my heart any longer, waving my arms rapidly chasing after the taxi, because I knew, this would be the last time I see her. I wanted to tell her I still love her, I wanted to tell her to stay, I wanted to tell her so much, but the taxi had already turned in the corner. Warm tears kept falling down my face, blended with the cold rain drops. I was cold, not because of the rain. I was cold inside. The truth that she never loved me hurt the most.
Just next to the lake, the couple sat on a bench, unknowingly that just ten feet after them someone was standing with a 9 mm pistol in his hand. And then what next? Two shots from point blank range and all the happy dreams of them shattered within a moment beside a heavenly lake.
The dark water of the lake remained stagnant till its deep, where traces of life found their way somewhere.

I was crying silently. I had to kill the person whom I loved. But once I  had chosen this path, there was no stepping back. I stood up wiping her tears. Holding the gun beside her ear, as tears rolled down her eyes again.


“The debt that all men pay.”  Love…
A shattering sound and there ends another love story .As the December wind had stopped blowing, the farthest fraction of the city remained silent, and dark. The lone long trees and the night fog kept them mysterious. The lake was covered by a thick layer of fog. The silence was on. The city was in their sleep, for some the sleep was forever.


As the growing moon started hovering up in the lone sky, the three bodies remained still in the park beside the freezing lake,  






Betrayed love ……

A Romanatic Letter

Dear  Neha,


I miss you.  I want to be with you and hold you. I want to move my hand through your hair. I want to gently touch your face and cup your cheek in my hand as I look into your beautiful blue eyes.  I want to snuggle and cuddle with you, to just be close to you.  I want to rub your leg and stare across the couch as we talk of our feelings for one another.  I want to hold your hand across the table at a restaurant. I want you to feel my heart beats. I want to feel your shallow hot breaths in my face. I want to feel your pulse vibrating through my heart.I want to romance you.  I want you to know how beautiful you are in my eyes.  I want you to know how much I cherish and adore you.  I want to give my heart to you.  I want your heart, I want it all.



With fond affection and longing thoughts
Ajay Ramanathan  




Scattered notes 2

Most of the time I weep for someone,
who is a no one..
Friends call me loser.
I have loved and lost and loved and lost.


 i messaged her "fuck yourself ".
Maybe i shouldn't have....I couldn't control my emotions ...
I didn't mean it.
I just wanted her by my side forever.
thinking for asking sorry !!


Life is painful, dejected and lonely.She still has the chance to come back
.Hit the road hard, when you still have the light.

 Feel a strange connection to Jaganshi Hiei .strangely Odd 



"I learned that I can not demand the love from anyone . I can only give reasons to like me and have patience for rest of my life to do the rest " - William Shakespeare..

 

I feel like a dead person . Pain is the only thing that reminds me of the truth !

I messaged her that "I m sorry"
Wrote all i thought.What i felt. What i was going through

i learned tht "You are responsible for your life. You can't keep blaming somebody else for your 
dysfunction.Life is really about moving on "


I M SORRY !!!

Scattered notes

Its her birthday on November 25. Its been like 5 months since we had a talk .
Every time i think of her i feel like some part of me is dying.
I still don't understand why she left me in the first place.
Maybe she was just angry.
I wish i had an answer.




Still trying to resist a smoke.
Cigarettes actually r keeping me alive.
 
Life's dull. And difficult, and cruel, and lonely. Staying companion-less while the whole world goes out with people is hard. And that too year after year.

I miss her. I miss the midnight phone calls. I miss her smile. I miss her voice. I miss everything about her. I miss her.

Guess I am bewitched !!

romanatic story -my life

"Isn't it romantic here?" That's the first question she would ask...



I was returning home from the institution...and was sitting at the front left side of the auto. The wind started playing with my hair, which remained uncut for over four months now...and all of a sudden, the touch of the mid-July wind brought a quick romanticism within me. (Well you'll have to accept real life romanticism is hard to find these days...how many of us go hand in hand with a girl anyway, or sit in the parks or lakes...considering those facts, I somehow prefer these short-time romanticism)

"I should write a romantic story now" I muttered to myself. The autowalah and the guy sitting behind me looked at in surprise, former for the reason he thought that I wanted to get down the running auto right now, and the latter seeing me smiling to my own in the mirror and taking me a crazy for sure.

"Yeah, right. Enough of worthless dark and wandering stories...they are boring anyway."

Alright then, I thought. It must be a story of a girl and a boy...set in a given situation. As I started walking from the Rashbehari avenue towards my colony...I decided it must be a meeting.

"Isn't it romantic here?" That's the first question she would ask...

Now once again I am in a dilemma. What does the word 'here' mean? It must be a place where the girl and the boy meets...but in order to make it a bit more mushy, I had already decided that the meeting has been fixed by the girl...and so here they are, totally in love with each other while the girl shows the romanticism in the air to the boy who is here probably for the very first time.

But the fact is where can I put this 'here'?

I rule out the possibilities of a local park, lake places, malls, dark corners of the city, restaurants with curtains(read privacy), dark cinema halls, avenues and footpaths in the evening(a personal favourite for kissing purpose for one of my friends, don't ask me her name though). And then I rule out the possibility of a sea-beach. Sea-beaches are more like when you are in a honey-moon, no one gives a girl permission to go with a guy at the sea beach before marriage...that is just a premise to start with.

I thought about myself...where would I take my girlfriend so that she feels romantic? In fact I didn't have any answer to this. To start with I don't have anyone special. Second, even if I had one, I would have taken her to the top floor of the Golpark Ramkrishna mission in the evening just to listen to the evening songs. Well I know its hard to believe and some of you are actually thinking that I will make a worthless boyfriend. But that's the way it is, and I really can't help it. Anyway I decide to move on from my own experiences.

Can it be a shop? Well it could be...provided the fact that there are not much people inside it...and you still have that much of romanticism left within you to utter those words.

I decide it could be a curio shop. The owner of the shop is probably resting at the corner, with dark pair of glasses(you would doubt whether its of use now), every inch of the floor and wall is filled with old stuff, stuff from the century old days...paintings, figurines, more paintings, more figurines, letters written to unknown people, unnecessary stones, necessary stones, old masks- some are from the darkest and most mysterious parts of the world...and more and more to continue. Adding to that we have the smell of a thousands of years' stuff that were meant to be useless by the people of modern society...carried marks of their times of glory in an indistinct manner. To add to the effect I make the weather a rainy morning...now it all set the whole thing up.

"It really is." The boy answers, as he reaches out his hands to hold the girl's hands.

Now this is some romantic. For a guy who was brought up in a hostel, with only exams to appear, discussions of the boredom of everyday dull life and how to give rare lessons to the cunning maharajas in various objectionable ways...writing this sort of romanticism is absolutely unexpected...add to that holding hands in public is one of those things he has hated the most.

But anyway, this scenario was quite different. These people are in complete love with each other. And they must not have known the writer, for their own good, otherwise they would've opted out being hero and heroine for this writer.

The girl leans towards the guy and plants a soft kiss at his lips.

Great man, I told myself, still walking towards my colony. Guess I am quickly becoming a pro to all these love stories...what can be more fascinating if you are being kissed by a girl, surrounded by all those old stuff, as if you two have been there for thousands of years, looking at each other, holding hands and showing love for the other one, with absolutely no one to watch you two, as if you have escaped to a different world, no one around you...just imagine you and your lover to be completely lonely in an island...it is that sort of stuff.



The girl mutters something at the boy's ears...

"I have always loved you...in the happiest of times of our lives, as well as the dark times, when no one was there...you were always beside me, and I love you for the way you are, that you mean the other half of the world to me...promise me that you will be forever with me, and never leave me alone."

Good. Now this is real good. Those who said I was pretty bad in writing romantic lines this is for them. How is it for a change? I certainly hope after all these they will stop criticising me for being a tragic love story writer.

The guy caresses the girl, holds her face with his hands to lift it a bit high, to say a few words...

"My darling, I have travelled thousands of miles, crossed rivers and moved mountains. I have suffered and endured agonies. I have resisted temptation, and I have followed the sun, so I could stand before you and tell you, I love you."

And they kiss again.

I certainly hope you are enjoying this story...a few of you might say that the above line is a bit more mushy type, but as I said before, I am totally in love with these romantic lines now, and no one separates me from this lovely lines...they will come more often now. A few of you want a bed scene right now, for them I must say stop reading, because that is not happening. A few of you are actually enjoying it though.

The boy and the girl keep kissing each other, surrounded by the old curio shop. At outside it keeps raining as usual. The mid-July cloud drenches the two souls, the cold wind touches their face and they become fresh, like a seed set to sprout. It rains, rains and keeps raining outside. Love in the air brings out happiness, a possibility of a new journey to a happier world.


The mobile continues to ring for the third time as the guy gets out of his dreams now.

"Are you coming or what? Remember we have the Group Discussion exam today..."

Oh, shit! the boy thinks, it was all in my dreams? What the hell that is happening to me? Add to that I'll have to appear in the GD couple of hours later. Hell ya!! Why on earth did I dream of a beautiful girl like that?

He gets ready for the college. And a couple of hours later, after a hectic schedule of college and several weird studies of an institution, he almost forgets about the dream.

What an unromantic way to end a romantic story.