Sleep Warm, Sleep Well, My Love

I returned home after a hectic day at work. Flopping down on my bed, I groaned as the phone in my jeans pocket poked me.

I turned around and lay on my back, pulling out the slim phone from the slim-fit jeans.

“Finally!” I exclaimed after successfully retrieving it.

There were seven missed calls from my husband, and, two text messages. Plus nearly ten WhatsApp messages. I found it odd as I clearly remembered having turned my phone’s volume to maximum before driving back home.

I checked the volume- zero. I had accidentally maximized the media volume.

“Fuck my life!” I cursed. No wonder there were this many calls and messages. Poor guy must have wanted to talk to me when he got time. He was a really busy man, staying away from home for months at a stretch, at times.

I checked the text messages.

Message One:

“Where are you? Call me back when you see this. I’ll be free till 7 PM.”

Message Two:

“You’re answering nowhere! I am worried! Please, call me.”

“Aw.” I said to myself, massaging my aching temples.

I then opened WhatsApp. Ten messages? No, I was wrong. There were fifty messages from one contact. My husband.

“There?”

“Hello?”

“Okay, you might be driving. I probably shouldn't worry.”

“But, seriously? Why do you have to keep the phone on silent?”

“This is driving me nuts! I wanna come home to you.”

“And, no, kissing you won’t be the first thing. I am gonna punch you. Stupid girl.”

…

“Call me. Please. Love you. Miss you. :(”

All this had happened over a period of one hour, the time it took me to drive home from work.

It was 7:30 PM now. Would he still be free?

I had to call him, nonetheless. I sent him one message before calling,

“I’m alive. Relax. Breathe. Sorry. Love you and miss you too. :) :*”

I dialed his number. He was busy on another call. In normal circumstances, I would’ve disconnected. But knowing his state right now, I knew he’d get mad, no, madder, if I did. He took my call after one ring,

“What the hell?” he almost screamed.

“Sorry. Forgot it on silent, again.” I had apologized innumerable times for this mistake. It was going to make him only angrier.

“Throw your phone away. Why hadn’t you connected it to your stereo Bluetooth?”

“I, uh, had. Wasn’t listening to any music.”

“Why?” he asked, suspicious, “You always listen to music.”

“Headache.” I answered, bracing herself for more anger.

“You didn’t take your tablet in the afternoon?”

“I forgot.” I mumbled, timidly.

“You forget every damned thing! Forget me too!”

“You’re overreacting!”

“Overreacting?” he was doing his best not to shout like a maniac, “You could’ve died!”

I rolled my eyes.

“You know about that headache. You could’ve passed out while driving without knowing!” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry! But you aren’t helping, you know. My head hurts, please stop being angry.”

“You still haven’t taken your tablet?” I could imagine him narrowing his eyes like he was wont to when I drove him up the wall.

“I just got home and read your messages, sent you a message and then called you.”

I heard him smack his head in frustration.

“Take your tablet, first. Please.” he inserted the ‘please’, but, it sounded like an order, anyway.

“Okay, do you want me to call back?” I asked.

“Did I ask you to disconnect? Just take the fucking tablet, already! I’ll hold! Christ! You’re gonna gimme a heart attack someday!”

“Shush! Don’t say that!”

“Mush! That’s all you can do. Are you taking the tablet?”

“M-hmm.” I answered, gulping down a glass of water.

“Do you wanna sleep now?”

“Noooooo. I wanna talk, if you can.”

“Okay.” he seemed considerably calm now, happy even, “I’ll call you back in fifteen, is that okay?”

“Sure. Love you!” I kissed him over the phone.

“Love you, too. Take care till then.”

I laughed.

"Not funny, sweetie! It's true of you. No matter how creatively talented you are, you're careless. You frequently trip over wires, bang into furniture, snub your toes, get your head hit absolutely anywhere and even fall on plane flat surfaces occasionally. Fifteen minutes and you can do anything to yourself." he ranted.

"Go away!" I said, indignant, disconnecting the call.

I maximized the correct volume this time and lay beside my phone, my head still aching. I had lied. I totally wanted to sleep, but listening to his voice was a much better option. And, I was missing him real bad.

It was difficult to stay awake. I opened the music folder in my phone and decided to listen to some songs. But, that could aggravate my headache.

My heart was saying "Yes" but my head was saying "No".

I am the one in pain, and, I can’t take anymore. So, don’t listen to him. Said my head.

I decided to listen to my head, for a change. More importantly because my friend would show up in another hour or so and if I still had a headache then, she would tattle on me to my husband and I’d be in trouble. It was not worth worrying him over.

“Okay!” I replied out loud to my brain and exited the app.

It was nearly midnight when I woke up.

“Shit!” I cursed, again.

5 missed calls and some WhatsApp messages. All from my husband. I checked the messages:

“On silent, again? I swear I’m gonna take the next flight home and give you a piece of my mind.”

“Or, did you sleep? :/”

“Sleeping is good. :)”

“Okay. Arunima is there. She told me she found you sleeping like a baby, which is a good thing. There was no food in the fridge, so you must have probably eaten it all, which is a good thing too. And, your door was locked, which is also a good thing. :D”

I could hear Arunima frantically typing away in the adjoining room.

I resumed reading the remaining messages,

“See? It’s not that hard taking care of yourself. I’ll be back home soon to take care of you. Till then, please help yourself. :P”

“Sleep, beautiful. Love you. Take care! Miss you so much.

”

I smiled happily and called him.

“Hey. You up?” I heard his sleepy voice. It was so damn sexy.

“Yeah. Sorry. You are sleeping?” I asked the stupid question.

“No.” I heard him laugh, “I miss you, love you.” he slurred.

“I love you, too. Miss you a lot.” I murmured.

And, we talked for hours. At least I did. He listened to my voice in his drowsy state and I could hear him smile, giving short replies when I least expected, making me laugh; I stopped talking when he seemed kind of asleep, listening to his even breathing that soothed me more than the tablet. We both gradually fell asleep, together, even though we were miles apart.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Reflections On A Rainy Night

Writing to me is like making love...
I do it best during rainy nights...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

As I Look At You Tonight

                                          

Dressed in a glittery golden blouse and a crimson lehenga, she stood out in the balcony that overlooked the misty valley, her arms spread out wide, letting the winter night embrace her. Her ivory skin glowed in the faint starlight.

"Don't you feel cold?" he asked, hugging her from behind, pushing away her chestnut-brown hair, kissing her neck.

They had returned from his sister's wedding; it was almost 3 in the morning.

"I do! But, I love it too!" she said, happily, shivering slightly in his arms.

His arms meandered around her bare waist, his fingers lightly teasing her abdomen. He felt her shiver again, but not because of the chill this time.

He whirled her around, so she was now facing him, her beautiful face inches away from his glorious one. With his left hand on the small of her back, he traced along the length of her spine with his right index finger.

It was the first time he had been so daring. Sweet kisses and long hugs were all that they had shared until now.

He gently tucked the flyaway strands of her hair behind her left ear, his shiny black eyes boring into hers. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her quivering coral lips, back and forth, lingering on her tempting pout for a few moments before he tilted and bent his head a little, kissing just beneath her left earlobe, sending jolts of current through her body.

Her hands dug into his chest; he could feel her nails through the soft fabric of his white shirt. Leaving a trail of kisses, he nuzzled at the base of her neck, working his way up her neck, stopping just at the corner of her slightly parted lips.

He looked at her as she slowly opened her eyes. He could make out that they were pinkish and moist, even though it was night time.

"Gulaabi aankhein jo teri dekhi..." now made sense to him.

Her eyes were pools of intoxication. And, he had fallen. Deep and hard.

There was no sound save the wind blowing through the vale, her heavy breathing and his heart thudding against his ribs. He was certain she could feel and hear it as well. He pulled her closer still, crushing her against his warm body.

Lifting her face up a little with his right hand, the other hand around her middle securing her closely to himself, he kissed her, ever so gently. She responded with fervour, her fingers knot in his soft hair. It wasn't so cold anymore.

Reluctantly, they let go to catch their breaths, their lips hovering around each other, slightly touching.

"I love you." he told her, putting into words a seal of unsaid, unconditional companionship.

"I love you, too, Virat." she breathed happily.

Note: This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

We Might As Well Be Strangers

I remember it. Vividly.

It was a sultry afternoon, and we were in the school bus, on our way to our homes. I was in the 8th grade while she was in the 9th. We had been friends ever since I could remember. That day, we were prattling about the latest gossip in school, like every day.

"I need to tell you something." she said suddenly.

"Go on!" I encouraged her.

"I am moving to Delhi." she said.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked.

"No, sweetie. I actually am."

"But, why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did." she smiled.

For once, that smile failed to brighten me up. My whole world came crashing down. In that one moment, I realized what she meant to me. Millions of thoughts ran through my mind, my head spinning. I felt weak, dizzy and nauseous. I didn't know my tears had spilled out.

"You are crying?" she asked, appalled.

"No!" I said, wiping off the tears with the back of my right hand.

"Oh, man!" she hugged me, "I am sorry! I was kidding! I didn't know you'd react this way! I am so sorry!"

I wasn't sure I had heard her right. I wasn't certain if she was lying now, just to make me feel better.

"Are you sure?" I asked her, timidly.

"Yes, silly! I am not going anywhere!" she grinned.

"Don't you ever play that prank on me again!" I yelled, hugging her tightly, "Stupid! Stupid!" I ranted.

"Aw!" she said, patting my head.

"I love you!" I blurted out, "Don't talk about leaving me, ever!"

It was the first time I had ever said that to anyone, besides my family. And, it was the first time my mind registered the fact that she was actually like family to me.

"I love you, too, babe!" she smiled at me, wiping away my tears.

Those three, actually five, words made my day.

Years passed and then came a time when she told me she was moving to Delhi, this time for real. I was in the 11th grade, she was in the 12th. She was going there for higher studies. I could not stop her for my sake. I smiled and let her go.

She returned home twice a year: during the summer vacations and for Divali. I tried to catch up as much as I could. But, she was becoming a big city girl, no longer much interested in her hometown or in her hometown 'best friend'.

She did not come back during the 2012 summer, nor for Divali. A few months ago, she got married. I wasn't invited.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.