“Coffee!” I broke him off his trail of thoughts. He took the coffee mug from me with an amiable smile. I sat along, with my cup onthe mat that had been laid on the balcony floor. It was my best-loved place; idealistically for the ‘me’ time. I sat down here to read novels in summer afternoons, slurping Maggie at midnights, scribbling poetries of my melancholies and escaping for the secret rounds of customary smoke. This little corner of mine was now upgraded to my new found heaven with his exquisite company.
I snuggled in his embrace, leaving no inch in between; with my arms enveloped around him; he enveloped the sheet around us. It wasn’t chilly outside, maybe we were just too possessive of the warmth we shared. Almost all my senses where in a jubilant festival. My eyes stuck between the moon and stars above, the aroma of the coffee and whiff of his cologne partied in my nostrils. My skin fondled along his, and my ears were grooving at our coordinated heartbeats.
I broke the bonny silence again. Like a dreamy kid, I asked
“What lies ahead?”
To which he replied with a song-
“Que sera sera,
Whatever will be will be.
The future’s not ours to see.
Que sera sera,
What will be will be.”
Well, I had sunk so deep in the euphoria of his presence that time, that his answer just worked on me.
Withdrawing miserly from his clasp, I stood up to lean by the balcony’s railing, as if trying to get a closer glimpse of the stars. There seemed no fault in our stars that night, as they constellated to make different visuals of my rosy pink future with him. I chuckled at my own insane musings, I hadn’t even smoked yet. I guess, I was just tripping over him. He too hopped up and locked me gently by my waist with his arms from behind. To add up to the warmth, I pulled out two cigarettes for us. As I helped him light his cig, my eyes elated, at the tiny flame of the lighter. It threw a golden spotlight at his lustrous lips and jaw line in the darkness of the midnight. And the only sense organ that had remained unattended earlier, the tongue craved for it’s treat.
That night, while we let out the puffs of smoke, we also let ourselves out, exploring about each other, polishing familiarity with each other. We chatted about our families, we flirted. We uncurtained our pasts, we flirted. We had become an open book to each other about our fears, strengths and anxieties, and we flirted more. We discussed our favorite sitcoms, movies, restaurants, books with constant naive attempts at matching each other’s preferences.
Days passed planning our dates in the future; clinging to the fancy of being together someday and yet all those days and nights weren’t enough for the chat. Adding to the moment’s enchant, I plugged in my earphones and shared with him my ‘can’t-sleep-need-romantic-soothing’ playlist, my kinda lullaby.
The dawn was soon to born, and I couldn’t afford my parents to catch me awake, beaming and blushing at my phone at 4:00am in the balcony. I realized it’s been four hours with my lips elasticized in a broad smile. But I was still in 2018, the chats weren’t over yet, and so wasn’t my date. Many such dates were promised over a year ago, but never happened. Yet I gathered myself up, and advanced to finish reading our remaining chats.
I had smoked off cigarettes on both of our behalves and struggled to keep my eyes open now. My stubbornness kept me on though, as I scrolled down further and re-read our chats, to complete my imaginary date.
I scrutinized them again for the umpteenth time like I have been doing for over a year now. Making unsuccessful attempts at finding where I went wrong; so terribly wrong that I can only comfort myself by imagining him with me now. But gratefully or not, the lullabies playing in my ear, took over me. The session for that night was over. I dozed off at my best-loving place, on the mats, wrapped in my sheets alone.
My eyes began to shut for the night; rather ‘morning’. My phone slipped off my hand as I lost the grip of my palm to my sleep. Similarly, my open-eyed imaginary date slipped to continue in my fairytale dream. Similarly, I gladly lost grip of the unpleasant reality, for many more insomniac nights like these, were he left me alone, where he was no more.
