“You did not realise but all I did for all these years, was to cheat you. All those lofty talks, all the cozy days, all those meals and dinner I cooked- all were nothing but pieces of bait to keep you hanging on. I knew it wouldn’t be logical to ask you to stay back with me, but incidentally all of these things helped me. Flattering girls like you isn’t a tough thing. Just a little moon, nocturnal talks, flowers, care and a little of head massage – and there you go. I know this well and let me tell you, this isn’t the first time I am doing this. I surely couldn’t tell you all of this on your face and hence I am writing this text to you. It wasn’t a lovebound fellow with you all this while, just a frustrated lustbound fellow. I hope you recover of this fiasco soon. Take care. Bye.”
The last 3 sentences took him more than 3 minutes to type. To cook and confess is one thing, to end that conversation is another thing.
“I hope you recover of this fiasco soon.
An assurance of grim possibilities. 3 minutes. 3 lines and all he could write were 3 lines of the inner compassion that he wanted to hide in all the lines above. Why would someone do it? Why would you reveal it this way? Is this the truth? What’s true – the last 3 lines or everything else?
“You have to give me a reason why you did this. This wasn’t a drunk text Mohit, you owe an explanation to this! You could’ve simply moved back! This was rude. Not just you, she will not be able to trust anyone else now. Why did you do this?” I asked him.
He kept quiet. Just a nod. Answers? NO!
“What??” I pushed him again for an answer. He lay there, face snubbed into his palms.
“I don’t know what I did”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Do you even realize what you’ve done? Can you pull that text back?”
He kept mum. I kept trying for an hour to make him speak, but failed. His silence turned to gloom which later turned into tears from his eyes and gradual sobbing, but he won’t speak. I left for office. Even an early morning push couldn’t help me get through his inner mind. I left his apartment and was barely into my office schedule, that I received a text.
“There was no other way”, the text read.
“We had to part. She wasn’t eager to. Our staying together would’ve shattered her pieces of future. I thought maybe this way, I could make her hate me so much that she would just refuse to talk. I got her reply as soon as you left.”
“What did she reply?”, I replied.
“Thanks! You finally made me cry on your terms. I will never be able to believe anyone anymore.”
This is what her message read. She cried finally for what he wrote. I had never even seen her wet eyed. We would joke around her for the same. But this idiot friend of mine, finally did this.
“Promise me on thing?”, He asked.
“Go on..” I said.
“We will never discuss this. Not today, not ever.”
“…., ok”, I replied back.
That day, I saw a friend commit a grave mistake. I am not at all sure, if that was okay. Maybe he realized that it was the only way he could have made her move away. Or maybe something else. He asked me not to talk about this ever. I stayed with him for the next 3 months before I went on for my post-graduation. Its 4 years since this happened. I lost a good friend that day. He almost died. What is left of him – is a son, a brother, an employee, a niece, an uncle, everything but him. What about her? But I am sure she would have, sooner or later, realized that all he said would have been a great madeup story. We all know what Mohit is. I wish he comes back to what he was 4 years back.
Lie is a tool. A two edged tool. It is sharp and fatal. We may form an impression about someone with the lie they speak up. But there is a background story behind every lie. Behind every construct. Some stories we might know. Some we might understand. Some we might know, but never understand.
Always Ranting, Rantzaada.