Words Unspoken~Dear YouA Story by Pratikshya Mishra A story about words unspoken, letters unsent, and childhood love. Dear You, It has been several weeks since I last wrote to you. I didn’t know what to write about. About your songs that I keep listening to, day in and day out, in a loop; about the forums that I regularly visit and write in anonymously; about the fan fictions that I read about you; or about the doodles that I make of your name in the corners of notebooks while making futile attempts at studying, or about the multiple times I gather courage to call you, but cut the call just before it connects. I don’t know what stops me. Perhaps I fear you have forgotten me in these three long years. I don’t want to know it for real. I want to hear your voice, but I can’t bear it if you don’t recognize mine. People here adore you, as they do in the rest of the country. Every café, every shopping mall makes it a point to include your song in their daily playlist. Every cab tunes in to listen to your interview. And the neighbors include the latest updates about you in every chitchat. My friends gossip about your fashion statements, latest hairstyle, your country tours and your upcoming stage shows. It’s you and you everywhere- in the entertainment page of every daily, in the catchy pictures of the brands you endorse, and in the cover page of more than half of the local magazines. All this seems so surreal. It takes me a while to believe that my childhood spent with you was real. To remind myself that the face in the photographs I possess is yours and the person I held hands with while walking barefoot along the sea shore was you. Do you remember when the old tree house came crashing down on me? You fussed over me as if I were a hurt child unsure of myself. And remember the crowded bus we took to the next town to visit mother. You kept me calm with your roughly composed songs when my phobia took over. You weird intonations always made me laugh. I still remember those songs. My favorite ones are ‘Echo’, ‘From the Terrace’ and ‘Will you marry me?’ I wonder why you don’t include these in any of your albums. I cherish these memories with all my heart. I wonder if you do too. I wonder when I can see you again in person. Or if I can, at all. Yours With Love. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Dear You, My pillows are all wet. My eyes are swollen. And I can’t seem to control myself. I don’t know if it’s grief or happiness. I’m confused. I’m not in my right mind perhaps. I can’t seem to think anything other than your words. You said you already had a special someone in your heart, in the chat show this evening, when asked about the rumors and linkups. And the honesty and intensity with which you said it… I don’t know what I feel is hope or despair. Hope is a dangerous thing. I’m already on the edges; I don’t want to crumble down. And I don’t even have a choice. I can’t shut you out. It’s impossible for me. Everything in this town reminds me of you. I received one of the few invitations to your concert that you had given away for free for the townsfolk. I don’t know if I was meant to get one, or it was by chance. Dear me, let’s try and believe the latter. I’ve decided to go, though. I have decided to gather all my courage and meet you this time. It shall take every ounce of my will power to be in the crowd that’d be cheering you. But I will go, or else, perhaps I won’t get a chance in future. Waiting for the days to pass. Yours With Love. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Dear You, I am here, at your concert right now. I am eagerly waiting for the album launch and your performance. I can’t tell you how excited I am. Words fail me. And this place is huge; I had never been to one. Thankfully the seats around me are empty till now, so I’m fine here. They have announced your name and the music has started, but where are you. Awaiting, With Love. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Journal Entry: If I could live one of my past days once again, I would choose yesterday. I watched him with sweet remembrance as he entered the stage and made it his own. I watched him smile at the crowd, his eyes searching as the focus shifted from one end of the gallery to the other. The faces in the crowd were magnified in the larger screen. He waved his hand delightfully. And then his eyes found me. With a smile so big, he waved both his hands and began, “In my old memories, you’re there, expecting me- beckoning as though whispering…”. I stood and cheered for him along with the crowd. I realized it was ‘Echo’- one of those songs that I loved, with revised lyrics and tunes. I was overwhelmed. I fell in love with the song once more. I was shouting and clapping with the people around me, when the focus rested on me. I was surprised for a second. He was about to sing another song, but he was moving though the crowd as the music began. He came up the steps and stopped right in front of me. I was so happy to see him that I could have hugged him right then, but something stopped me. I knew that music. “Will you marry me? Will you live forever with me?” he then began, in front of those thousands of people, and perhaps the entire country that was witnessing this live. The entire six minutes that the song took, I was too shocked to react. I just looked at him as he circled around me, looking back and smiling at me every second. I fell in love with him once more, all over again. © 2014 Pratikshya MishraAuthor's Note
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Pratikshya MishraBhubaneswar, Odisha, IndiaAboutAn avid reader, blogger who dreams of being a writer. more..Writing
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