'One Fine December' – My Entry To The GetPublished Contest

O N E     F I N E     D E C E M B E R

My Entry For 'Get Published' Contest By HarperCollins

Synopsis:

    The story is set in Lucknow, when Ronny and Akanksha return to Lucknow during their respective semester breaks. They both have been best friends since high school and they also had promised to stay in touch when he moved to Calcutta and she moved to Manali for college. During their school days, they had a large group of friends and they hung out together but she was secretly in love with him and he was secretly in love with her. However, he was too confused to confess his love for her and she was too insecure to reveal her feelings for him. Six years they had spent hanging out with each other and their friends and at the same time working hard to keep their feelings at bay. But things were different now. New places and new friends can wear away promises. Ronny had became close to a girl in the college he was enrolled to but on the other side, the few months that Akanksha had spent away from him had made her doubly insecure over the period and it was excruciating for her to carry on being miles apart from him without knowing for sure if he loved her. But the holidays were nearing an end and it. Maybe he didn’t love her anymore.

    Not every love story might seem special to the readers, but they are exceptionally dear to the persons concerned. And sometimes, a few people might even write a story to keep a promise. But, every story, when its told honestly, can act as an inspiration in one way or the other. You never really know which story strikes a chord. This story is just my way of keeping a promise to a friend, proclaiming that their story will not go untold.

Excerpt:

"...The chances of her meeting him again during these holidays had narrowed down to none. But she wouldn’t admit her love to him; he is supposed to do that. Hasn’t he known her long enough to be able to tell?

    A girl’s heart is filled with insurmountable mysteries and delicacies which she allows only the boy she loves, to explore and she expects the boy to surprise and overwhelm her in return, by his charm and passion. But a boy’s heart is too naïve and often too uncertain of the venture it pursues. But at one concern, both the hearts coincide to something beyond measure as both their hearts, being honest and innocent as a kid, possess all the weakness in the world towards the person they truly care for.

    Akanksha had been constantly trying to shelf her feelings; to prepare for the worst. But what if the worst did happen; she won’t be able to endure it and she knew it. She had put too much of herself into this; she had crossed the point of no return by miles. She just wouldn’t go away another six months without knowing for sure. Yet not a single streak of light would produce itself which could ease her mind."

"This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India."

The Moonlight Riviera

    She walked into the room to the voice of the piano. The warm deep tone was vaguely familiar. Wasn’t that Jack playing? He played it often and you could always tell it was him from the way every note trickled down his fingertips as if Jack’s fingers were the piano itself. She tiptoed from behind from where Jack was sitting on his Piano stool. She didn’t dare to walk towards the sliding glass door and shut it close in case he sensed it and stopped playing. In fact she didn’t even want to. The cool breeze was swaying to the tune making it feel more heavenly than it would have felt without it. The breeze blew her long black hair which blended well with the darkness around. The silvery moonlight painted a silvery outline of her, of Jack and of the piano. The Moonlight Riviera was blossoming through Jack’s fingers.

    She couldn’t help it any longer. She stole her way and sat beside him still scared that even a slight interlude in the air might wake him up. After all, he wrote this music especially for her and she was there just like she was now, when he had played it to her the first ever time.

    The familiar mellow tones were playfully tossing between E-Major and A-Major. She had wrapped her delicate arms around him and she was glad that he had not stopped playing. She quietly laid down her head onto his shoulders and the breeze tousled her hair over his shoulder and neck, the way Jack always loved.

    She was smiling like she had never smiled before but a few chilly teardrops also trickled down her cheeks and she had realized that the music had turned painful. This wasn’t familiar at all. This wasn’t what Jack had written for her. Did he change it? The change was so supple that she didn’t notice.

    She jerked her head towards Jack who kept playing with his head down. The silvery moonlight chalked Jack’s tears too and she stared with a proportion of shock and inquest. But Jack didn’t look at her. He kept playing making the music sink its teeth into her beautifully toned skin making it more painful for her to survive. She too sank her grip to Jack’s arm but Jack kept playing like he didn’t feel a thing. The music which seemed to have stopped time was now hard to bear for the woman. She wanted him to stop but didn’t want to leave either. She cried out aloud but Jack didn’t stop.

    After what seemed like hours, when Jack had finally stopped playing, her eyes were sore and her beautiful skin was shivering with cold when Jack spoke for the first time, in a voice too excruciating to listen to –

    “Why did you have to leave?”

    She raised her head to look up at Jack.

    But she had never left! What was Jack talking about? Bewilderment had suddenly engulfed her and her heart was pounding with the fear of losing him due to some silly misconception.

    “Haven’t you wondered how I was all the year?”

She kept staring at him with her lips trembling and she wrapping herself all over him.

    “Do you think heaven is a better place? Why didn’t you take me too?”

Butterfly In The Subway

    I saw a movie once. In that movie, the lady there saw a butterfly in the subway. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59^th. Ever since, I too wanted to see one myself, just for the feel of it.

    To tell me about myself, I am strongly possessed by fatal amounts of introversion and which often keeps me at bay from all the colorful stuff the world has to offer. Last evening, I was quietly waiting at the subway terminal at Dum Dum, all by myself; when suddenly I sensed someone, a girl, go by brushing my sleeve. I hurriedly turned my head in pursuit and the first thing I noticed was the only thing I always dread whenever I see a beautiful girl – she wasn’t alone – and to make matters worse, the ‘someone’ she was with, wasn’t a girl.

    She wore a black sweat jacket and underneath that was a white striped knitted jumper. She had long dark flowing hair; unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to watch it flow; she had tied it to a ponytail that she had let fall on her right shoulder. Her cute fair face had a couple of pimples on each of her cheeks but it seemed that they were too shy to show themselves properly. Other than that, any hint irregularity in the perfectly carved face was merely fictional.

    I couldn’t help staring at her. But to prevent myself from staring (Mom always told me it was rude to stare) I only stole quick glances at her. The train arrived and she chattered away with different expressions lighting her face. She settled down on a seat across the gates and I settled myself near the gates so that we were face to face. As the train wheeled off and with every station passed, my frequency of stealing glances kept increasing at an alarming rate because I had realized that Mom was delusional. Even if it was rude to stare, this was all the eyeful I was going to get of her and it could be all over any moment.

    After two stations had passed, my quick glances had become a permanent stare and it seemed that she too had noticed that. She kept glancing at me once in a while, still talking to her companion but with freshly added enthusiasm. She kept stroking her hair, more than usual and at one point, she took quite a long stare while playing with her hair, or perhaps it was my illusion.

    She got off after five stations on the Central Avenue taking away my impracticable and only chance to even know her name. Perhaps that’s the way it is supposed to be – after all butterflies don’t speak. But finally I did get to see a butterfly in the subway.

    After she got off, I tapped the left side of my chest to check if I was missing anything, and for a moment I thought it wasn’t there; or perhaps I was too dreamy to remember what exactly I was looking for. I finally found it though, but she did steal it for a while...

P.S. – In case you were wondering the movie I mentioned in the first line, its ‘You’ve Got Mail’…