The Dream

It is a short story about my best friend! I have written this one to gift him on his birthday.

 Playing football was his passion. Delaying his return after the usual school hours he ensured his football skills on the school ground. Days were excellent apart from the long session, due his late arrival, from his mother. But he managed that class hours somehow dreaming his expertise. His days used to be spent with the freedom of thoughts, innocence of liberty and insanity of football. The narrow stairs moving upwards beside the drawing room followed a small world owned by his dreams. A bed and a wall clock opposite to the light beside the study desk left a very narrow space there. But the asphyxiated ambience had something special within the four walls as it always welcomed him to throw himself on the bed with a descent smile. The secret of four walls lied amidst the sighs of numerous paper cuts of eminent football players, pasted on them. And each time this abstract world presented him the sweet scent of being in top eleven of a football team. 

 

Few months later, an anonymous personality gradually ensued him in engaging his football upliftment by her beauty. It was when he had promoted to high school, someone’s hair rolling down over her shoulder paused his sharp eyes to equalize his team to 1-1. Her pleasant look was too intense to miss him every chance to score a goal. After the full time, his team experienced the first defeat under his captaincy but perhaps the clouds of emotion won his mind under his captaincy for the first time. The checked shirt with olive skirt had already began to dribble unexpected tackles swinging the dreams dipping down near the bar post of affection. A castle had already started building in his dreams being a prince to ride upon the unicorn holding her cute hands. Both belonging to the same department might had suspended football sessions during the recess. Attending the school had always been his favourite. But this time the reason got fractioned to please her and have a friendship with her.  

 

She was an external so the number of friends counted very few. So, his company did not experience much hard time to be her close. The daily practise session thereby began to allure in accompanying her to see her off till the bus stop. The silence of waving hands to bid her good bye makes his day end captivating some phenomenal energy for starting the next morning. And the social media fuelled some kinetic energy to cheer up the rest of the day after the school hours. Secrets being shared, thoughts being dreamt and compliments being offered had already started changing him from a footballer to a lover. But somewhere this difference contradicted him without a finite destination of his one-sided-love. Perhaps the course of time refused to gift him the maturity to understand him the affected effect of this emotional attire. 

 

Holding hands beneath the bench and sharing tiffin was not enough to reach his feelings to her thoughts. But his loyalty made him royal and thus his practise hours seemed to make themselves golden awaiting him for her to end her lab classes. Beautiful letters being gifted to each other with smiley signatures below in frequent intervals and he used to find the logarithms of those blue inks integrating the differentiated fear of his mother of being caught away. The chemical organic equations rested in the long chats between them till mid nights. The physics volume used to hide all cheats of papers shared in the class during the lecture. The vibration of Nokia 206 till then had assured already only one’s messages each time whether it be in the morning or in the mid night.  

 

Sometimes the shared thoughts found out their emotions to pamper themselves with love and sometimes desperately ruined their day with quarrel. Although the night ended with peaceful quotes because in between, he accepted every fault with “SORRY” and her Samsung 1200 regretted the mistakes with “I LOVE YOU”. But eventually none of them bothered about their growing seeds behind their mind to accept themselves as a couple. Every time a random question was thrown to them asking them whether they were in a relation or not and each time she desperately drew the ending line of the confusion answering “NO”. This answer probably succeeded in turning down all the questions but somehow helped him to be matured. He realised that their memories might would be enough to express himself that he loved her but was not steady to realise her that he loved her. The pain of shattering dreams hit him hard but he remained silent. Perhaps he couldn’t able be a successful lover, yet he succeeded to be a good actor hiding all the tears behind the blinking of eyelids. Each day he returned and went upstairs to his room but now rolling down tears succeeded his smile over his face. Although he remained standing in the top floor of his castle but he could not able to ride the unicorn anymore. The unrecognised overlapped incidents used to made her fled away with his unicorn. Still he waved his hands to bid her bye each day after the school. But that time he was matured. Matured enough to make her smile hiding all his dreams, rather daydreams. 

 

At last the higher secondary sessions got over and the time being the protagonist retired him from his romantic career. The swing of the pendulum gradually started changing her emotion for him. One day the bell of his retirement rang- the emotional fool had to rebound to his football career wiping the love consciences in between! His calls remained ignored and chat remained unopened in her new Samsung Galaxy and this gradually ignorance gifted him a broken mirror in which the small pieces reflected him himself at different angles.  

 

Today also he smiled lying down on his bed and dreamt dreams every night. But this time the four walls did not reveal their secrets, it was the dark walls of broken reality which dreamt him night mares and smiled him with tear-filled-eyes. The physics volume had been replaced with small cheats but the cupboard beneath the study table had some quoted papers inked with the memories on its door. The organic equations had already ended their chapter but the projectile sums of architecture had started finding their solutions in dreaming another castle with another love. But this the love was of two feet dribbling the ball crossing the opponent midfielders ruining their defence to hit the glory of success when everyone sitting in the gallery cheered “SUVO………………” 

 

Some audience said 'IT WAS A BLUFF' but the girl stated it as ‘AN INCOMPLETE STORY' and he, my best friend, once again remained silence in his soccer skills....