December Rain

The mirrors on the walls made the parlour seem larger. Much larger. She thought it was kind of deceptive. Half the reason she agreed to step into the much hyped ‘Mammamia’ was that it didn’t seem crowded, unlike all the other ‘hip’ places where most of the ‘cool crowds’ hung out.

The two of them chose a table midway the extended room. She sat, settling herself down, propping against the small wrought iron back of the chair. He asked her what she wanted. She was tired; she didn’t care for the samplers. He went off to get the ice-cream.

Two minutes later, there was a giant bowl full of what seemed like fruits sitting in front of her. It was the seasonal fruits sundae or whatever it is that it’s called. She grimaced. He had the same thing for himself as well. She looked up at him as he pulled his huge frame into the tiny chair. His knees jutted out sideways to accommodate him on the not-so-short legs of the chair. She wondered if his posture troubled him. She had asked him before. He had mentioned something about 'football-exercise-joint flexibility', she didn’t remember clearly. She couldn’t ask him now. She didn’t know why. Throughout the day, there seemed to be some giant weight of a long overdue conversation stuck in between the two of them. The day was almost over. She looked out of the glass paneled doors. The sky had turned into a tri-banded panorama of purple, with hints of green splashed through the edges. She wanted to marvel at it.

But Him. She had to get back to him. She could tell he was mad. The giant assortment of yellow, orange and green sitting untouched on the table before her was proof enough. She didn’t know what to tell him. He hadn’t ever gotten ‘Seasonal Fruits’ ice-cream for her before. The very name sounded lame, fitting for some kind of uber-soy milk crazed-health shop. He knew she wouldn’t even bother touching it. Never before had she ever have to ask him “What were you thinking?”

Well of course his taste in music aside.

He seemed pleasant though, basking in his cold retaliation, enjoying his ice-cream. Or whatever. She didn’t feel brave enough to look into his eyes. She dove into the pile of kiwis and bananas with a flimsy plastic fork, which threatened to break at the first instant. He noticed, got up and fetched four other equally weak forks.

“They didn’t have anything better”, he said as he placed them in front of her and sat down again.

“Thanks, they’ll do”.

He had changed the frame holding his glasses. She had noticed it first thing in the morning. He hadn’t mentioned changing them to her. But again, they haven’t exactly been mentioning a lot of things to each other lately.

Four months of daily phone calls were nothing but a lot of pressure to pack as much information into each minute. She panicked, she knew that he was now leading a life she knew almost nothing about. Well, almost nothing except his whacky roommate. She knew that she was just a part of his life. But they had agreed to live each other’s lives. To think each other’s thoughts. To worry each other’s worries. Sounded insane. But worked for years. What seemed interesting to her was that, perhaps those years were over now. Maybe this was a new phase.

He noticed that she had once more immersed herself in another one of her oh-so adorable reveries.

Her phone vibrated. She scrammed through the crazy number of layers she was wearing to get to the back pocket of her jeans. He seemed amused. She checked the caller I.D.. She smiled and looked up at him. He knew she would find it cheesy, as he disconnected the call. It was another one of his subtle attempts to mock her sense of sarcasm. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was all tangled up.

There was so much she wanted to say. So much to clarify. It was her fault and she had screwed it up. Yet, he was there, doing everything that he always did. Being so very inside her head, knowing every thought of hers.

They both remained silent. But she could feel the warmth in the silence. She embraced the feeling. She knew everything was just fine. She smiled once more when he looked up. He had a comprehensive look on his face. They let the matter be. This wasn’t the time for it.

“ So broken any of those bones lately?”, she asked him as she supported her elbow on the table and propped her face on the palm of her hand.

“Not quite, although a ball smashed my specs and the nose seemed limpy for a while.
Want some more of that ice-cream? They have a like thousand different flavours of Butter Scotch alone, in there.”

He went ahead to get one before she could even nod.

Her banana-kiwi thingy wasn’t even close to being half finished.