Your love is all I need.
16 September 2015
You’re in love when she’s around and when her voice alone is your guiding light, your only motivation in your life. I am in love.
I will never forget this day. I cannot forget this day. This day defines me now. I hadn’t seen her for many days before today. It was just another morning and I was a little restless. Dejected, I reached the bus stop at the time she used to and waited for her to
come, hoping against hope.
She came, I looked at her and she looked amazing. I don’t think she saw me. The bus came and there was a mad rush to jump into the bus. She was standing right beside me as we waited for people to board the already crowded bus.
I went out of the line and motioned to her that she should get in first. There was way too much jostling and she couldn’t get in. The bus started moving and her eyebrows made a small frowning hill on her head. She looked adorable. She glanced at me and whispered an apology.
“Sorry” – the first word she said to me. I thanked the bus driver in my heart and smiled at her. We waited for another bus, but I knew the next bus wouldn’t come for the next twenty minutes. I shifted in my place.
I knew I wouldn’t get a better chance to talk to her. I have been in relationships before and it’s not as if I can’t talk to girls. But with her, it’s something different. I looked at her and waited for her to look at me.
When she looked at me, I said a feeble “Hi” and she replied.
The pressure of starting a conversation was on me and I was getting very nervous. I asked her if she was in my college and she nodded. She added that she had seen me around.
I wondered if she knew that I was stalking her, but she told me that she knew me from a
students’ council meeting. She sweetly complained about the buses and how far she lived from college. I nodded and added in.
Her sweet, chirpy voice made me forget all about whatever was going on around us. We introduced ourselves. She asked me where I lived and I remembered an apartment near hers and lied.
The next bus came a little too early. We both got in. She got a seat and I stood. She offered to hold my bag and I gave it to her.
We smiled. It seemed like one of those daydream sequences I had had about her and me, but it was actually happening. We didn’t talk much as the bus was jerking too much.
We reached our bus stop and got down. She looked at me and asked me if I took this bus every day. I nodded and her smile seemed to say-will see you around. She walked away. I wish I had taken her number. But I have no complaints. I got to talk to her today.
I wish I could see her tomorrow.
“Karthik ?!!” A voice calls out from behind. It is Naira.
I always like her best when she is half-sleepy and all messed up. That’s when I feel the luckiest. Even when she is not at her best, she is still the best-looking girl I have ever come across. I feel like the guy from the diary, looking at someone I love like a cowardly geek.
It’s three in the night. I’d slept while reading the diary for the third time that night. The pages are now creased from where I had folded them. I have made some notes on my cell phone and some on little scraps of paper. They make no sense at all. I am very anxious and I cannot get what I have read out of my head.
It is very disturbing yet enamoring. All I know is I have to find Anushka. The mysterious girl from the book, the girl who screwed up, the girl who has to know about this guy, VK,
and his undying love for her.
“Why did you get up ?!!” I ask. I slip the diary behind me to prevent her from spotting it.
“Won’t you sleep ?!!” She counter asks me.
“I guess I will,” I say and hug her.
For the first time in the past fortnight, I feel sleepy. The images are still there in my head but they are blurring a little. Suddenly, my head is filled with images from the notes in that diary.
The guy. His best friend. The pretty girl. The unfortunate sister. The inconsiderate guy.
There are no faces in the pictures in my head, there are no places, but there is a story. The story of a person who is now dead. The dead guy left a story behind. A story that I have to make sense of. It is incomplete and I cannot let it be that way. The girl has to know.
Every time that I read a book, the only thing I look forward to is the ending. A book without an ending makes no sense. It is the same with this diary. It is incomplete. The first and the last few pages are burnt beyond recognition. Maybe they were all blank, but I want to know and I will find out.
Even if they were blank, Anushka, the girl from the diary, needs to know about this guy’s
love for her !!!
I hug Naira that night and sleep like a baby.
The next morning, I wake up with a start. I am clutching and groping around on the bed for it. The Diary !!
“What happened ?!!” Naira asks as she dusts her face with make-up. Not that she needs any. She looks better without it.
“Nothing,” I say not wanting to sound like a creep.
She tells me she has served the breakfast on the table and that she needs to rush. She is working very hard and I don’t like her working nonstop without taking care of herself. Anyway, she leaves for office and I get the diary from where I had hidden it.
It almost draws me towards it. I turn over the pages I have already read thrice.
I finish breakfast and rush to the office. I take an auto and it takes the same route it had taken that day. For a second, I feel like getting down and walking around the place where I found the diary, but I decide against it. I have horrendous images in my head of this guy burning to death. I don’t want them to get more vivid.
I can almost feel him around me, asking me, “So, now that you’ve read my diary,
what will you do about it ?!!”
There is a lot of pending work in office and Naksh is going to meet that “Someone from the Times” again. It’s strange to see him go for a second date. Maybe he’s taking this girl very seriously.
Ever since I’ve read the diary, all my mental energies have been diverted to its content. It’s nothing phenomenal, but the sheer circumstance around it is so powerful. What lies on my desk are a dead man’s words.
Could a story be more perfect ?!!
I pick up the diary and flip through the pages. The writing is ornate, slow and deliberate. It hardly seems like a guy has written it. I guess the guy always wanted to show this diary to Anushka. The writing is too pretty to not show off.
I like this guy. He’s creepy, but he isn’t that creepy. I have tried to decode everything that’s there in the diary and made notes on a sheet of paper. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle with the major parts there but all the tiny critical parts are missing.
No city, no names, no addresses, no phone numbers. It looks like someone is playing with me. The questions keep troubling me. My mind creates this image of a guy madly in love with a very pretty girl. It feels so picture perfect.
But as I feel the burnt edges of the diary, I feel unsettled. His hands were blown off from this diary. Somehow, I have assumed that this diary is about a guy who doesn’t get his girl and that’s why he carried it around. It makes perfect sense. If he was with the girl when the blast took place, why would he keep the diary with him ?!!
But I have to consider both possibilities. What if both of them died together ?!! Could it be that ?!! What if this was their last remembrance they’d left behind ?!! Of all the
people, I get the diary.
I google news results of the blast. The death count is rising. It’s now one hundred
and twenty-seven dead and fifty-seven injured. Initially, there were three hospitals that all the blast victims had been taken to.
I call up the first hospital. I pose as someone from the media and take down the names of twenty-three people who had died there. After the third hospital, I realize it’s futile.
“Can you give me the names ?!!” I ask the disinterested guy on the other side of the phone.
There should have been twenty-nine names listed in the third hospital. He gives me three.
“The rest ?!! Twenty-nine people should be on the list. I called all the hospitals and have got just ninety-eight names,” I say.
“People get transferred to different hospitals within hours of when they get here. Some of them are reported, some of them are not,” he answers.
I pester him to give me more details, but he says he can’t help me. Over eager and scared relatives transfer patients to better, private hospitals as soon as possible. So, the number of people dead is reported on an estimate basis. I hang up, fuming, not knowing what to do next.
The tease was thrilling, but now, it’s annoying. I want to know who the hell this VK is. I am pretty sure he is dead, but I want it in writing.
Naksh walks in my cubicle, a little while later.
“Working ?!!” he asks. His hair is ruffled. This time I am sure it’s because of the girl. The glow on his face is more evident than a pregnant woman’s. He smiles and waits for me to ask him about the love bite I spot on his neck, which is big, red and very prominent.
“Yes, and you had an amazing date, I suppose.” I smirk.
“You wouldn’t believe !!!” Naksh comes and jumps on my table. I hate it when he does that. Twice he has broken the glass top. Twice.
“Do I have an option of not listening ?!!” I ask. I know I have no choice. He would still tell me.
“You’ve got to meet her !! She is just so amazing, unlike all the girls I have dated in the past. We did make out today.” he says.
“You made out with a girl on the second date itself.” I ask.
“Not only that !! We did it in the washroom. Can you beat that ?!!” He asks, widening his already broad smile.
I have done that, but I let him have his moment of glory. Why would Naksh even think he has done something that I have not ?!! After all I have been with Naira for a long span of 5 years.
“Washroom !! Nice.” I say sheepishly.
“All in all — an awesome day, awesome girl, awesome date,” Naksh says and smiles creepily
“Look !! Look !!” Naksh shouts again.
“What ?!!” I ask irritated, because there are people working under us and this is our office but that doesn’t keep naksh down.
“She sent me a picture !!” he says and pushes his phone in my face.
I catch a glimpse of the girl. She is a cute and simple girl from the looks of it. But seems very young by age.
“I am meeting her again tonight. We are going drinking first and then a movie.” He states.
I show him a thumbs up and he smiles cockily. Sometimes he is very annoying, but it’s good to have him around. He lives a crazy life and does things that are hard to digest or believe.
Anyway, he gets back to work and so do I. Life’s easy these days. I am not working for anybody and I make my own rules. Well, almost.
I leave the office after a few hours and come back home. A friend of Naira’s is throwing a birthday party at her place and she’s invited us. The friend has married a pot-bellied, guy who doesn’t even reach my shoulder. And I am 5’10”, which is not a very high scale anyway.
But then, of course, he is Rich. That adds another foot to his height.
It’s going to be another boring party, but Naira told me she’s going to dress up and never miss a chance to see her dress up. I put on the cleanest, whitest shirt I can find. She dresses up exquisitely and makes me look like a ragged beggar.
I look at her and ask her, “Do you wish you were dating someone rich too ?!!”
“Why would I ?!! I am already dating the richest guy. You give me everything I have ever wanted,” she says and smiles at me.
Precap : Naksh getting into trouble. Angry Naira. A sneak peak in the past.
Another chapter down the line. Well I am loving writing how the story is progressing. Are you all feeling the same ?!! Do tell me if you are bored or find me not up to the expectations. All the suggestions are welcomed.
I wanted to ask all of you about the new fan fictions that have been written on our Kaira or Yrkkh. I have read Fenil’s and Zara’s up till now. Are there more that I have been missing out ?!! Please tell me if there are more so that I can read them. Being un active for almost three months, I have lost on a lot of good stuff. So do tell me.
Also please do comment peeps, otherwise I wont come to know if the story is liked by you or not.
Do comment. Keep smiling. Keep watching Yrkkh !!