neelwrites/flash/fiction/shortstory/25/06/2022

DEATH OF A LOVE STORY

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Tell me your dreams, she asked.

I looked at her and said, You are my dream.

And so began our love story.’

Harshit had related this anecdote to his childhood friend Akash way back in time.

How the wheels of time change.

Today, eighteen years later, eighteen years, nine months, and five days to be precise, everything is the same.

It’s the same Uncle Tom’s Corner Cake Shop in the same bylane of quaint old Darjeeling City where the two friends are meeting.

As each sipped into their cups of piping hot Darjeeling Special Ginger Lemon Tea and bit into bite sized pieces of their favourite accompaniment Gunther’s Tasty Biscuits, it was Akash who initiated the conversation.
“So, tell me Harshit, how’s does it feel like living your beautiful dream”?

The words were stab into Harshit’s heart.

He winced, his facial muscles contorted, and for a moment it looked as if he was having a heart attack.

A concerned Akash leaned in and offered a glass of water.

Harshit deflected that away with a movement of his left arm.

A moment later, slightly more composed, he admitted to his bestie who he was meeting  after all these years, thanks to the latter having wandered off to alien lands having been bitten by the crazed wander lust of the incorrigible globe trotter.

“My dear Akash, truth is my dream died long, long ago. Our much touted love marriage fell victim to the seven year itch. Exactly when I was busy planning what gifts I would shower on Puja for our grand marriage anniversary, she walked in and said that she was walking out of the relationship, of our marriage. Shocked and pained to the core, I somehow managed to ask her in a mumbling tone as to why and what has made her to decide to end our marriage. To that she simply replied, “It’s simple. I found for myself another man, a man much more wealthier than you can ever aspire to be”.

The corner table where the two friends were sitting suddenly seemed to have shrunk; a sombre saddening silence took over.

A moment later, having composed himself, all Harshit could add was, “I guess it’s a crime for a man to be poor in this loveless world.”

#neelanilpanicker #flash #fiction #shortstory #life #love

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