Amazing people who make me go on n on n on:)

07 April, 2011

Romance at Short Notice-Part 2!

Please go to Romance at Short Notice-Part 1 before reading this to get the full import of the story.

Turning her blatant gaze away from his face, Nilu finally managed to fish out words from her slightly quivering and very embarrassed self.
“I am sorry! I thought the house was uninhabited.”

“It is and I am the one who should be apologizing for giving you such a start. Actually I don’t live here as it is quite away from the city. But it is my great grandfather’s house and I don’t want to give it up. Being opened for some famous tourists from Delhi, I thought I might as well come here and pick up some stuff.” He breathed a pause, “I assume you are one amongst the many outside?”

She raised her eyebrows in consent and smiled at the reminder of being a part of the flock, almost a wry one and he returned it back as though empathising. “My god, I couldn’t help but peep outside earlier and with no offence intended, living in that must be like being on a highly dramatic stage always?”

“Not really, we do manage breaks in between when there is lack of audience.” And they both laughed, the ringing mirthful and reverberating through the hitherto silent room, watching it all like an engrossed spectator. “I can’t imagine though how someone can, not-live in a house like this. It is so perfect.”

He beamed again, spreading the charm on his countenance dwindling between the boyish and the manly, with the delight of one who was enjoying good company after a long dearth. “Yes, but when you live alone it becomes a little waiflike. And when I need to write books or paint, I do come here on a sabbatical of sorts.”

That was like rain wetting a thirsty flaky crust. Women in general have this compelling fascination for writers-men who express the world in words like the stringing of the perfect pearls; for men of the world otherwise always lack the right ones to do so. Nilanjana was doubly hit as she was a voracious reader and literature was her escape route from the accounts and figures bound new family. She couldn’t help but gasp at the prospect of meeting an actual writer.

“O-oh, I have seen that expression often young lady and before you pitch up your expectations, my books are still in publication. So I am miles away from being a celebrity yet.” And then mocking himself he added, “Tch, so the autograph would be of no use now.”

He watched her intently as her face see-sawed between being disappointed in one second to instant flushing again at perhaps the hindsight of what-the-heck-a-writer-nevertheless! “That’s okay, maybe someday I can gloat about this little brush of claim to fame, when you do become famous and proclaim that I stood in that house where history was being written.” Nilu cut short shyly at the realization of how dramatic it sounded- a rub off perhaps of all the bonding that’s been happening of late outside. She added rather dramatically again, “Literature is my first love.”

“And trust me it would be the most faithful one. Destiny has brought you here it seems. I have some original documents, photographs, etc, of writers, even of Wordsworth and some lesser known ones, a sort of a lineage and it would be a pleasure to share them with someone who understands their worth...just a moment, I’ll be back.”

Nilu couldn’t control the butterflies in her stomach and felt her heart would explode at the prospective excitement that was surging and was suddenly glad at not having come up with any excuses for this trip. She looked through his sketches and how immaculately they expressed faces, as though she knew them, as though she would cross them on the way.

Within minutes a box of treasure was opened before her and had God himself told her not to go near it like the proverbial Pandora’s Box, she would have sinned and shown that history repeats itself. She devoured unabashedly the unsullied pleasure derived from wondrous collection of things that were more befitting museums than be found in a house like this. Things spoke volumes to her and she was lost with no sense remaining of time, space or reality. She wished it was a giant ping pong ball and she would never get out.

Women of whatever ages are always similar to little girls yearning for real life fairy tales. Or maybe women from insides really are little girls who grow up on fairy tales but never grow out of them.

They kept conversing, laughing while he wittily recounted backgrounds and she entered the portals of history, passion and emotions, so generously unbolted before her. Unveiled were letters drenched in love so fragile, a locket that stood the test of time, a hand written diary that spoke volumes despite the dilapidated pages, pens of masters that rule eternity and what not. Imagine the fulfilment of a pilgrim upon reaching his destination-such was the unrestrained content ebbing in her little heart.

And just then came a sudden thump of an open window, made by a jealous, strong gust of wind, rudely breaking the trance!
Have you ever been in a dream where you were attaining something tangible after having craved for it from the longest of time and feeling it lovingly between your fingers; but then suddenly awoken, you clasp the palm trying to grasp the illusive, that is gone forever?

Sometime had elapsed as she returned to the present and finally managed to tear herself from the assembly of what had taken her breath away, to look up; and what she saw did not help transport her back either. Right before her eyes was her own sketch that the veritable stranger had made within minutes perhaps while she was lost in ancient manuscripts and she looked more beautiful there than any mirror had ever communicated to her.

Nilu was speechless. She fumbled for words. What words do you use before writers to express what you feel, so eloquently enough that it gets effectively conveyed to reach to the levels of how it is being felt?

But he didn’t want her perhaps to say anything as in the next moment he wanted to take her elsewhere.
“And if you think these are amazing, wait I have something more!”
And he disappeared again into an inner room before Nilu could summon the right words, leaving her with emotions that were not so familiar.

“Nilu, Niluuuuu... ah, here you are. I have looked all over this spooky house. It’s getting dark baby, we are all packed up to leave. It is a three hours journey back you know and we’ve already wasted much in looking for you.”

When Nilanjana had heard Anshul, guided by some weird gut feeling she had folded the sketch sheet and put it in her coat. She would spend years wondering why she did that, but at that time some voice within left her with no choice. With Anshul were the two nosey brats who had startled her earlier and who must have led him to the room. She had not realized how much time she had spent there. She panicked within, 'I don't even know his name...I didn't even express what I felt!' She looked around hurriedly and at the desk she wrote on a sheet kept there,
“I cannot thank you enough for today.
Please call me,

She kept the note under the same magical paper weight while Anshul was looking around at the sketches.
“Huh! What a waste of time and energy someone is going through in here! Come on let’s go.”

He put a hand around her waist as though it was not a suggestion but a command and she followed silently although her feet seemed to have been planted there. She took one last look at the room to keep a memory etched in the private domains of her mind and continued to be dragged against her emotions. Something had happened today that had shaken up her boring existence for good...something that would continue to stir her for years despite all calm exteriors.

So just like that she left, wondering what he would think when he came out.
And just like that also left the two little brats, but not before one of them looked around sheepishly and pocketed the fascinating paper weight-his very own souvenir to show off to friends back home.
And just like that came another mischievous gust of wind and took Nilu’s little note out of the window with it before it could reach the desired hands.
And just like that ended a love story that could have been a forever romance happening at short notice!


Sameera said...

Aawww.. That was lovely. Caught the nerve. :)

Anil P said...

And I hope he would've looked out the window and seen the paper. A chance, really.

Nicely conveyed.

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Bad Anshul, bad, you should know when not to shake a lady out of her reverie.

Dear Nilu, probably you should know, loving a writer is often a risky proposition. They can conjure up imagination and veils in mid air just like solid footing's illusion on sand. Love the man, not his art, And love an art, not the artist.
But perhaps, you weren't falling for him either, you were craving for the treasures he held key to.
I understand.

Hey Suruchi,
I think this would be the best and realistic story I'd have read all over the blog world till now. (Yes, and even if you replaced all those names, the magic would still be the same.)

Do write more of this kind, when ever you do, no hurries, such things take time. :)

Cheers and Kudos!

Blasphemous Aesthete

Sakshi said...

love, love, love being in LOVE :)

pRasad said...

Yaaawwwwwwwnn better write on BIG O :))

BTW,,I want to go through all your old posts that I missed...entertainment guaranteed :)

you are at your best when you are humorous.

Erratic Thoughts said...

A nice read...

Miles Of Style said...

was so excited to read part 2. and as always you didn't disappoint. very touching and beautifully written!

p.s. loving your new blog header too!

Bikramjit Singh Mann said...

ab main kya likhoon ispe .. me speechless and when i go speechless you know that means DONT YOU ?

but why did the lovestory end why could it not continue ..


Jack said...


So the twist in tale was there. Good one.

Take care

rainboy said...

like it...make a play out of this.

And you know I never use those writer skills on girls ;)

take care

suruchi said...

@Sameera, Sakshi and Anil,
Thank you guys.
We can never have enough of love, can we?

And Anil, we all hope for happily eve afters despite the ever afters...and remain kings and queens of wishful thinking:-)

suruchi said...

My god, I had died and gone to heaven when I read your comment*and yes, It took me some days to return to comment back on it here:(*

I had almost mentioned you in the footer of this post relating how I was cringing at the idea that awesome rocking fiction writers like YOU would ACTUALLY read this!:-)

Thank you so much for the super lavish praise on my very feeble attempt to tread on fiction territory:-)
You just made my week.

(Pssst...this idea came as a dream to me...kinda vivid but beautiful.
Needless to say I was the heroine and I added a whole lot of jing bang background!)
Thank you once again!

suruchi said...

pRasad...I understand..likhte likhte thoda mein bhi bore ho gaye the:-)

Please catch up on the rest, though pehle jaise madness nahi hain ab:-)

Ma ke kartavyon ke neeche thode madness mein method aa gaya hain:-)

suruchi said...

@Erratic thoughts,
Thank you:-)

Thanks a are a sweetheart:-)
And that header is the most basic and only creative thing I can do on this page:-)
Wish I was more technically savvy:-)

suruchi said...

@Biky...yaar aap jab speechless ho jate ho, to mein to bahut saare inferences nikaal sakte hoon na, to what THAT could mean now;-)

Is liye tussi bol he do!
And yeh whole jist came like a very short dream to me...jab ladki ko sketch mila, us point pe seeya ne shor machaya n neend khul gaye:(

So baaki drama and pre-dramtics khud se add kar diye:-)

And the best love stories rarely leave the realm of fiction to materialize into reality, anyways:-)

suruchi said...

@Uncle Jack,
Thank you for spending time on such a chicklit kinda post:-)

That's such a sweet idea...koi dhoond do jo aisa kar de:-)
I can almost imagine it like one of those 'Raincoat' type ke movies:-)

And baby, cute writers like you don't have to use their skills, we get floored the moment you just open your mouths;-)

rainboy said...

mere to aise koi links nai hain,but you know you can write it. Humorous plays mein to aap ground break ker doge.

haha I don't meet that easily and even if I do,I like to observe people,what they are made of...take my time to open up.It's a nasty world out there ...Trusting is not one of my strong points. :D

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

There's a place in Shimla, its called The Glen. Old british Manor now converted into a hotel I think. Your write up took me there, for I have been there, before it was renovated like it might be now.
And wow, you dream so beautiful stories, and put them into so realistic words? Write more, or maybe, don't write anymore fiction here, publish it in hardcover. :)

Mr. "Niraj" Lemon said...

Hey,....m back...i must say good time to be back... or else i have missed a really awesome posts... really an awesome post to read on Sunday evening specially the twist in the tail..I really like to know from where does this out of the box imagination come???

Alka Gurha said...

Since you have it, why not try the Passions contest where the winner gets a chance to write a full novel on romance...Indian Mills and Boon.

Absolutely enjoyable and engaging read.

WarmSunshine said...

I haven't been here in a while now Suruchi... I recently shifted to Oman hence couldn't keep up with all my friends in Blogville. I'm trying to make it back at my previous pace :) I'm here with an invitation:

Wish I could come up with something good for this week's prompt, I'm here for an invitation...

I hope you take part in my 'Friends Meetup Party' this Thursday on my blog, the perfect line. As host, I'll be looking forward to having you there :)

Happy Tuesday!

P.S. I promise to come back for a good read back here. Can you please be a dear and help me spread the word about this party? I could use some help :)

suruchi said...

Hi Rainboy,
That's great if you don't trust shouldn't also..unlike me who loves to trust and loves to have people extending their trust in me:-)

Bahut observe nahi karte...phir woh baarikiyan nazar aane lagte hain jo sab mein hote hain but kabhi kabhi unko ignore karna acha hota hain:-)

Trust you as a super cute friend:-)

suruchi said...

I don't always have such great fact most of my dreams generally suck big time...

Once I was making out with Om Puri in my dreams...I mean OOOMYYYYGOOOOODDDD!
Matlab ki fine he is a great actor...but a kissable choice????????
Mere Top 10 to kya Top 100 mein bhi nahi hain*yes, there can actually be a Top 100 ki list of I sat down to calculate it someday*

You are sooooooooooo sweet with me...oooo....I think I am getting crushed all over again;-)

suruchi said...

Hi Niraj...
Kahan rehte ho yaar tussi?
And mereko bhi nahi pata kahan se yeh "out of box" imagination aate hain...I guess from some "wild"erness;-)

Please stay around now:-)

suruchi said...

Hey Alka,
I could never bear the Mills n Boons...never read even one in my life...lagta tha ke kitne desperate logon ke kahaniyan hain yeh....

I guess we change n so does our perception*or is that desperation;-)?* with time...

I can never write a book...can't retain interest that long...I thought the second part here was not good enough...but if you and Anshul say it is, I kinda believe it is passable now:-)

Thanks a bunch

suruchi said...

Hi Mehreen,
Oh wow, Oman sounds good...hope a new place takes you to broader horizon and bigger contentment in life...

Nevermind not being around...u take your time and wishing you all the very best always:-)

sulagna ™ said...

Su tum apne stories zara in serial valo ko sell karo na..i wish we could have such fresh and new stories, waise only you could think so new and original, seeya apparently is giving you enough free time that mommy is back with a vengence :)

suruchi said...

Hi Su,
Na re...bechare serial he band ho jaayenge and women would get more demanding with their already hassled husbands...

I manage to write once a week...try with all my heart n might to...when I have no classes and Seeya's asleep:-)

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