A Meaningful Synergy

He asked her as she was sitting, wondering what to say next but gladly smiling that he was around, “Which symbol do you think our relationship represents?”

She was taken aback in awe. A question like that she hadn’t heard before.

“Well, give me a while to ponder upon this. I’m a slow thinker and you know that.”

He smirked, nodding that he did.

The next day, she had the found the answer, “I think we’re the yin and the yang. You know the yin and yang, right? In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang is a symbol that shows synergy between the good and the bad. The symbol consists of a white half and a black half portraying goodness and badness respectively. But, the white portion has a little black in it, showing that even what is the best has a flaw of some kind. The little white in the black shows that even what is seen as bad entirely has innate goodness within. So, although they are contrary to each other they are interconnected. In our case…”

“So you mean one of us is good but still has some sort of imperfection to bear, and the other one is mostly flawed but carries some sort of goodness?” he cut her off.

“No, that’s not what I mean. That wasn’t all that I wanted to say. In our case, we’re the yin and yang of our own kind. I see the symbol as a complementary connection between two contradicting ways of being. Neither one is good or bad. So, let’s say if I represent the black, and you the white. The little whiteness within me speaks of the understanding that I bear towards your way of being. And, the little blackness within you tells me that you understand me even when you’re not entirely like me. Even in our differences, we come to find each other at some place. That’s how I feel we complete each other. That’s how we make a team.”

Now, he was smiling, “I love you.”


Confessions over coffee

“So where are we going?”

That question kept her thinking. She knew she had to answer that someday. She peeked within, searching for clues. But, it seemed that her inner voice was no help.

“I don’t know where are we going. All I can speak for is where we stand now. We’re at a place in our lives where vulnerability connects us and binds us strong. We’re at a place where we can find safety in each other. We’re at a place where talking about anything under the earth to each other, feels comfortable. We’re at a place where life has come to make us best friends.”

“Sure, we’re best friends” he responded, “but do you think that’s all?”

It had been months. He was looking for an answer, patiently, prudently. Hoping that someday she’d reciprocate what he felt for her.

“No, I don’t think that’s all. I know you like me and so do I. It’s out in the open.”

“So what’s stopping us?” he asked.

“I am scared you know. I am at this crossroads – one direction tells me to step back and lose you. The other direction asks me to go ahead and lose you. And, I am not ready to lose you. Are you getting what I am trying to say?”

“Go ahead!” he nodded.

“You see, now I can’t go back and tell myself I will be okay even if you decide to walk without me. But, I am not sure if I am ready to take that step ahead and walk along with you, love you. I am a difficult person to be with. I may be willing to work this out but sometimes, I tend to run away from things, even the things I love the most. That’s one thing I can’t change about me. That’s one thing out of my control. And, I am afraid that will sabotage you. Are you willing to embrace that difficulty?” her thoughts had a taste of concern.

Silence caught them off guard. 

“Honestly, that’s something I have to think about too. But, I know I’ve liked you for long. And, now I know I’ve started loving you,” he could no longer hold on.

A feeling of reverence surged within her. She was happy but her eyes chose to tear up.

“If you never feel anything for me, I have to be prepared to let you go. There’s only so much I can do. I can give you my all but if you never happen to feel the same I have to move on. But, I have a feeling that we can work on building something beautiful if we are willing to…”

“Not that I don’t feel the same,” she cut him short. “I just maybe need a little more time.”

“Sure, you have it, but let me know before we run out of time.”

A Random Conversation

“Can I ask you a question?” she said.

“Sure do,” he said.

“Why do you drink?” she asked. “Oh wait! Before, you take it otherwise, I have nothing against drinking. This is, you know, just a random question.”

“Well! I drink so that I can relax a bit. I drink to contemplate in a more focused way. This may sound weird I know but for me, drinking is not about pouring down anger or making loud noises. I drink to relish complete silence, utter silence. I don’t drink until I feel that life’s going downhill. And rest assured, it’s a secluded process for me; I don’t harm or bother anyone in the process,” he answered smiling.

“That’s a really good self-knowledge,” she said smiling back.

“Why do you ask?” he said, intrigued.

“Hmm…I guess this a part of me. You better get used to this. I keep asking questions to people I am close with. One reason I do so is that – well, I don’t know. Another reason could be an endeavor to understand people’s emotions and thoughts better. My questions are even more random than I am. Someday I may even ask you questions like ‘what color is the sky beneath the blue? Why is water transparent? Why do we cry tears and not blood?’” she explained with a sigh.

“That’s fine. I am ready to answer whenever you ask me one. I will answer those questions soon,” he said. “Those are some really good questions, ma’am.”

A passage of laughter followed.

“You know sometimes I make myself think so hard, I have to pass it on to others in the form of questions. No kidding. Even I think about those questions,” she confessed.

“And do you find answers for yourself?” he asked.

“Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t,” she said.

“Those are the only two options,” he added giggling.

“I have a question as well. I used to think about this question a lot but couldn’t find an answer.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Let’s say you’re closing your eyes at the moment. Close it. So you’re closing your eyes and when I ask you to open them, imagine there’s nothing. By nothing, I mean nothing at all. Not even me. Everything in the universe is gone and you’re witnessing it. What will be the first color that you see?” he said.

“Maybe it is the color of vacuum. I have always wondered how vacuum looks like. I don’t even know if it has a color. I think when there’s still numbness around you and you can’t feel, hear or touch anything around you – that is the vacuum. But even as you peak into the abyss and find nothing around you, you can still see vacuum,” she said after a careful thought.

“Vacuum. The vacuum can’t be felt, touched or heard but can be seen. Hmm…” he spoke to himself with a tint of peace in his voice.

“And, you know what? When you wake up to a realization that there’s just you in the universe and nothing else around – maybe you are the universe then. So, in that instance, maybe you don’t see colors. You hold all the possible colors within you and radiate them in search for some other universe.”

They both sat still gazing into the unknown. A speechless conversation had found its way.

“I think I just found my answer,” he said after a long pause. 

Of Music and Magic

Her eyes sparked with glory and her voice could make anyone weave endless dreams. I’m talking about her. The songstress – Amber. She was simple yet sophisticated by all means. Of all the things in her life, she loved composing and singing songs. Songs kept her sane. She sang of all that she could and all that she understood. She, however, couldn’t understand one thing. It was love, she couldn’t comprehend, the kind which all her friends kept talking about. She didn’t understand it, until the day she met him.

He was the pianist who was new in town. His deep green eyes reflected the depth of the ocean. An ocean so deep you could drown in it and lose yourself to find him everywhere. And believe me when I say that he could make anyone fall in love with his enticing smile. A smile, magnetic and magical.

Every evening when he played piano in his hall, he had passersby stop and listen to his masterpiece. And one fine evening, he had a beautiful visitor awe-struck by his excellence, it was no one else but Amber. As soon as his eyes fell upon her, he knew he had never seen anyone so special. He knew it was love at first sight. Amber could sense him spectating her differently. Nervous and shy, she just smiled. She found out from one of the visitors that his name was Ethan.

Ethan, such a beautiful name, she thought to herself.

She would visit him every day and they developed a camaraderie gradually. A camaraderie of smiles and gazes. Not able to resist herself, she sang one day as he was playing. Soon they began jamming together. She would sing and he would play for hours and hours. Strangely they hadn’t exchanged a single word. But Amber realized that she was experiencing something beautiful. She was experiencing an emotion that makes you do crazy things. An emotion that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. An emotion called love.

One day she went to Ethan and told him, “I’ve never felt so special ever before in my life. My days are now blissful and fulfilling and it’s all because of you. I want to spend the rest of my life singing for you and feeling the warmth of your arms. Ethan, I love you.”

Upon hearing this, Ethan went up the stairs and locked himself in the room. Until midnight, Amber kept knocking on the door but Ethan didn’t respond. Consumed by despair, she went home in tears and kept crying all night. The next morning, she had someone knock on her door. She saw a man standing there with a letter. It read:

“I am sorry Amber. Yesterday, when you confessed your love, I was the happiest person on the earth. But I will never be able to tell you that.

Because God hasn’t blessed with a voice like yours. In fact, he hasn’t blessed me with a voice at all.

Now would you want to spend your life with a man who will never be able to you tell that he loves you to death and beyond?”

As soon as Amber read this she ran to Ethan in tears of joy. She told him, “You don’t need to tell me that you love me. I can read it in your eyes.”

Ethan smiled.

Their eyes met yet again and she collided unto him like comets collide, to break into each other.

They kissed until the dusk.

An Incomplete Art

Once upon a time…No, let’s scrap that!

In the present, yes now, as I’m writing this story to you, there’s a girl unaware of this. I don’t know what her name is but she’s close to whom you would call a dream girl. Yes, she’s one among you, she’s right there breathing. She’s a girl full of chaotic thoughts, charisma, and life.

She’s inspired me to write this story because she’s a bit like me and maybe a bit like you.

She’s like an incomplete painting on the canvas waiting for someone to heal her scars and complete her.

She had given herself to be painted before, to a beautiful yet amateur artist. He stroked the colors on her and brought vivid emotions about her…and when he realized he had messed her up, he left. He left behind the vivid emotions alone for the girl to handle. He left the colors on her as they were, without symmetry, without order, without meaning.

Only after days, months and years, she realized that she was beautifully ruined. So she decided to be authentically ugly.

Now, she’s waiting for an artist to love her for her ugliness. To heal her scars. To complete her and to give her — a meaning.