The conversation could have ended in a row but Sahil called off the game saying he was too tired and they better call it a day, Aman seconded him as well.
When left alone, the duo sat on the field and started off the conversation, “does she have any idea that we aren’t archnemesis”, Aman asked
“Nada, she still remembers the first year fight and after that the topic never surfaced..”, Sahil retorted while gulping down his gatorade.
“it is better this way..”
“at least, she won’t be preying on other men and assaulting them..”
“hahaha..you have eyes on your back too..eh..?”
“instincts my friend, you are good on field, I am good off field..””
“if you love her so much, then why..”
“huh..family duties…I had to choose between my mum and her..”
“and you chose..”
“mum offcourse, she’s fighting with cancer..you know..”
“what?!…why didn’t you tell this before, I mean tell her this, she’ll understand”
“she won’t hate me then..””
“But why the fuck you want to make things complicated..”
“the best love is the complicated one..”
“Hahaha..we all are..I guess, don’t fall in love with her though…”
“Naah..she’s not mah type..”
“really..you have standards now..eh..?”
“duh…offcourse man, she’s mah bff, I love her, but she’s high maintenance, fragile, she needs someone who can handle her tantrums, I am so ringarde in that sense…”
“oooooo..french monsieur, she’s rubbing off you eh..”
“naah..I need a simple girl, more subtle, one that can look after me, she needs a lot of pampering..so…she’s better off with you..”
“nobody has seen the future..”
“you don’t know my mother then..she’s a matriarch..”
“huh…what if she falls for me…I mean she did liked my biceps..”, with this he started poking his otherwise normal arms
“hahahhahahaha…in your dreams, she’s a free soul, she hates flying down, no offence but you aren’t her type..”
“And you are..?”
“No, I don’t think so..she’s different, out of my league too..she’s..”
“A big time flirt..”
“with a good heart..but she’s loyal yaa..”
“tell her the truth..”
“she’s suffering..she won’t ever forgive you…”
“That’s better then…”, with a deep sigh they both stood up to walk towards the mess while Rumi was in the hostel, having decided to skip her meal she rummaged through her belongings, found the nipper and chopped her precious ones, the next in line were her long lock of tresses, for this she went to her senior’s room, knocked in a fury, entered and said, ‘ I need a haircut’.
“but..you have such beautiful hair..”
“I hate them..just give me a bob cut..”
With a heavy heart, dewy eyes she said goodbye to her long locks of brown hair, that night she slept all the way weeping her heat out.
But why on earth was that needed Rumi?
Dear all, this is the soul again, foolish girl is punishing herself, she’s being so naive, why is she treating herself like a secondary being, why the fuck she doesn’t understand her own importance, I mean, I am hurt, so hurt. I’ll be off to someplace quiet today, maybe the shores of Ganges or Bosphorus where I can cry my heart out for not being able to protect my little girl.
I so want to tell her, ‘this too shall pass’ but she doesn’t listen to me yaa, why can’t she feel me, why can’t she find herself.
Have you all ever noticed a flying bird?
The way they flap their wings for a fraction of a second and then go with the flow of the wind?
Life should be free flowing, not self sabotaging, well I am off now.
That night Rumi dreamt of waters, as if flying over the vast stretched seas and oceans, sitting on the shores and crying her heart out.
Little did she knew she was moving closer to a bigger realm, a broader horizon where the conscious meets the subconscious, dreams and their meaning, the multi layered dimension and their importance.