“…haan?” And she again heard an invisible voice calling her name. But as always there was no one. Shrugging her shoulders she questioned to herself Am I going insane? Her breathing resonating amidst silence. A sigh escaped her lungs and an echo returned with a fragrance, a distinct fragrance, a familiar fragrance. The fragrance which she has breathed before- When? Where? She couldn’t recall. She definitely knew that fragrant invisible voice. She could sense a pain in that voice which reminded her of someone- just like the scar reminds of the wound. Every time she heard the voice, she thought she has talked to it. The voice that haunts her in her solitude, like the shadow of her body. She remembered what Saumya has once told her, “If you hear a voice calling out your name and there is no one around, then someone is missing you”

Saumya was her soul mate; they were like alter ego of each other, a mirror image of each other. When she got separated from Saumya, initially, she never allowed herself to think about her. But a few months later she started feeding her nostalgia by going to the places where they used to go together, reading her slam book, reading the e-mails which Saumya had sent to her. Now after 5 years she is trying to forget her. She reminisced her first meeting with Saumya. They met in a card shop falling for a friendship day card which both wanted to buy for their friend. Incidentally there was just one piece left, and unhesitatingly Saumya let Ria buy it. The mutual admiration for each other paved the way for their friendship. Later Ria gave the same card to Saumya. With a red rose inside, and a piece of poem “For the fragrance of love you spread around. For the sweetness your tongue’s taste buds hold... for the beauty in your eyes… you personify Real Red Rose"! And that was the first time that Saumya learned that Ria composes poetry. After that, as the rose dried their friendship blossomed. One day all this came to an end, an abrupt, heart wrenching end. And trying not to think about Saumya, Ria scribbled something… it’s half past1… Saumya, I don’t miss you. And laughing at the irony of this sentence, she kept her diary under her pillow and closed her wet eyes to sleep.

“Mamma! I’m home”, Ria yelled after returning from her college.

 “How was your day honey?”

“It was exhaustive mamma. Did Didi call?”

“Ya.. She’ll call again at 5. And your friend called too, twice. What’s her name? Yes! Dia.”, Dia was Saumya’s and Ria’s common friend.

“Oh! Did she gave you any message.?

“she has said that she’ll call again. And told that Saumya got married a week ago”

“WHAT?”

“ Dia told me that Saumya got married to an NRI and she has gone to USA with her hubby…”

And the rest Ria couldn’t hear. She just threw herself on the couch and mumbled…

Can this really happen? Can Saumya get married without inviting me, without even telling me?-

“Are you ok Honey?” – her mom asked.

“Ya! Mom! Just tired. I’ll take shower and then we’ll have lunch together.” Dia managed to say this and rushed to her room.

Ria knew not what to think and what not. She couldn’t believe this news. Saumya got married a week back without inviting her, without telling her. She left for USA without saying goodbye. All of a sudden she started felling that the shadow of their friendship wasn’t there anymore- it was just its ghost. Fort five years she was haunted by that invisible ghost. How could she…? We will probably never meet again. Perhaps I never mattered to her… Perhaps we never were friends… Perhaps…perhaps…

Just then Ria heard the same voice calling her name again- “Ria!”  And the fragrance filled her lungs once again and started flowing from her eyes. Now she recognized the voice- it’s the voice of her soul, which craves to be called, which wants someone to call her name. Ria opened her diary and wrote a poem…

One more prayer

One more wish

One last hug

Before the goodbye kiss...

One more tune

One more song

One last melody

touch in the silent solitude
ripple a mist to the eyes
reverberate whispered words
make one hum the tune of a forgotten song
remind frequent visits to an edifice
aromatize the withered rose kept in a book
refresh a dream in a lonesome night
relive an ephemeral moment as an eternal eon
drape around an aura of forbidden love
rekindle the flame of a flickering spark
melt the frozen relic reminiscences
carve the footprints’ impression in the heart.

A fragrant breeze of autumn
caresses a fragile blue rose,
and the rose falls into the rivulet-
it touches the surface
and whispers a ripple to water.

And this rippling rekindles
reflection of reminiscence
of her dimpled cheeks.
The rose drowns
but the reflection still floats.

Lost Effervescence:

Especially for those special moments, she bought those coffee mugs with tiny red hearts. Humming sweetly she picks them up and set them on the table. She puts the pan on the gas-stove, fills with milk and added the sugar, still humming sweetly. Delightfully, she prepares the table. When all gets set, she smiles again, thinking it’s the most special day of her life. She has just started feeling how a mother feels. She is so excited to tell about it to her husband, she doesn’t know how he would react. She was nervous to talk about it. She wants to phrase it perfectly. I’m pregnant. No that’s so clichéd. Or I need to see the gynecologist. No that’s so unromantic. Or just do you know why I’m glowing these days. What if he says “oh? I didn’t notice it. Which beauty product are you using these days?” She has been thinking the entire night how to disclose the news to him. Would you like to have a baby? What if he says “no. honey! It’s pretty soon. We just got married 4 months back”. Or how about have you thought about the names of our kids. Or would “do you want a girl or a boy first”-but that is so overused. She wants to disclose it perfectly. How about I’m feeling so weak these days- seems like another being is eating all my food.- but what if he asks me to take no worm tablets. She laughs that she doesn’t know how he would react. Finally she decides to say whatever comes to her mind at that moment.

She goes near the bed to her husband, who was still sleeping. “Honey, good morning! The coffee is ready”. He opens his tiny eyes, sees her and smiles, “just a minute Nimmi”.

He goes to the bathroom and reappears in 3 minutes. Goes to the table, tastes the coffee and says, “It’s perfect”. He looks at her pale face and says, “What’s wrong, honey, don’t you like the coffee?” Wiping the tiny teardrop glistening in the corner of her eyes, Richa murmurs, “nothing. It’s just the effervescence… it is gone… I lost it.”

----- if you didn’t get the end of the story.. Click here. 

Lost Effervescence

Two mugs, contrasting yet complementing each other..
The mild fragrance- intoxicating
The hue - perfect auburn
Sweetness - just pure divine
Taste to linger -forever
Only effervescence lost somewhere…

Still working on this short li'l story...