What Happens...

What happens when you wait for someone to respond to your gestures for more than a year? What happens when you just cannot make your mind if she actually understands your gestures or not? What happens when you cannot decide if to keep trying or let go? What happens when all you want is to say it all to her and that’s the only thing on earth you don’t have enough courage to do?

Every morning you see her face, a face that lights up even the gloomiest of days, a face that has a mystery deeper than that in Monalisa’s smile, a face you just cannot get your eyes off from. Every day you live with the hope that maybe today she’ll understand what you’ve never said, what you could never say, what you would never say, what you always want to say. Every day passes in anticipation, and dies with screeching crash of dreams. Every evening, with the sun, dies down the hope. Every night the darkness seeps through the soul and disillusions the fake light you were holding all day long. Every night before sleep you are convinced that’s it’s all over… it never started. Every day you sleep in strong determination that you would forget all about her, she is not meant for you. With falling night the determination grows stronger.

You try to sleep in peace, try not to see her in dreams, try to concentrate on the last movie you saw, how good it was... the last pretty girl you passed by, how cute she was... the last cricket match, how bad the bowlers fair... the coming exams, how illprepared you are... your mom, how long its been you had done something for her... your job, how monotonous it has become... anything but her… you fight your instincts, your dreams, your heart... you sleep of the fatigue of the fight you had within, between your mind and heart…. between dreams and reality.

And in the morning you again see the face, the face that lights up even the gloomiest of days, the face that has a mystery deeper than that in Monalisa’s smile, the face you just cannot get your eyes off from. You go through it all over again. And you don’t seem to see an end to this viscous cycle.

What happens when you don’t know if this daily gruel would kill you some day or is it this gruel that keeps you alive? What happens when you don’t know if the pain is painful or sweet? What happens when you think of letting off your hands every second moment and still cling on waiting for someone to pull you up? What happens….

What happens when you are not sure if you want answers to these queries…or would you rather live with it.......