Moments

I close my eyes and see it. A noiseless 2:00 a.m. sky with clouds in sparse spreads on a windy night smack in the middle of May. In May, out of all the other colder months in a year, it was May. The Gods had truly blessed us that day.

There are moments where we make memories we will always remember; and there are moments we will always virtually exist in. Amidst the array of moments our mind stores, there will be some which will always be re-livable. Times when you could teleport back in time to that exact second, to that exact spot to see the ebony of the sky bleeding out onto some tiny terrace. Stargazing a starless sky had never felt as exhilarating as that day. I feel luscious waves of hair running through my fingers, and the warmth that seeped into my body from merely living in that moment; and it was beautiful.

I've often locked away snippets of junctures of time in a small box, but this memory was so vivid and wild, I could't materialise it in any shape or form. I can almost hear a religious ceremony echoing off in the distance somewhere, but it bothered me to no avail. All I get absorbed in is the fact that seven young souls had huddled on a tiny space on a terrace top one night. The cold breeze beats at my skin but it is in the best way possible. I recollect the carefree smiles that adorned each face, how everyone was in peace with the moment itself; a treaty we signed with time to escape from all things that bound us with reality. In that moment we existed. No words were spoken, no eyes were open. Everyone hummed and sang to a tune that was private to themselves. In that moment we lived.

After a beat, the focus shifted. The moon was glistening with pure light, some of us searching hard to find the bunny that is believed to live on it's surface. And oh was he a happy resident! He silently sat upside down, with his big ears lazily hanging from a position that may or may not seem comfortable to all. He looked down at us, a crazy group of people like a mixed bag of m&m's. Who would have thought that we seven would be there in that spot enjoying what could potentially be the best moment in our lives ever? I know I didn't.

Some days my mind rejoices that one night of bliss and intimacy, where it vaguely recollects how a soft bush of hair feels on my leg or how the support of a sturdy shoulder is a metaphor of friendships and it's weird connections. It all sometimes goes away in a blur; the best ones always do. Soon it was 4:00 a.m. and my companions were gone too soon, and I wonder if my mind made it up, made that moment up. Because nothing had ever felt as real and unreal as that.

It is said that energy cannot be seen. I disagree. I saw it, the positive kind, that day, amidst muted hoots and shallow breaths. I saw that comfortable rhythmic breathing of a happy heart, and the lifted corners of a content smile. I felt the comfort that lingered and danced in the air and I know I saw energy that day, the best kind of energy.

And in that moment realisation dawned. The realisation that we seven may never even talk again, may never meet again, may never see each other again, but we will always have that moment, we will always have our moment. And as difficult as it is to let go of people, I think I will be okay, because we shared something sacred and no one would ever be able to take that from us.

So this one is to unknown, exciting and amazing friendships. This one is to moments we will always exist in.

Vicissitude

Pure unfiltered light shines through my tinted windows. Dusk; my favorite time of the day. It's a beautiful transition, metamorphosis if you will, of the mighty sun muting to a small ball of amber and yellow. You always told me how much you loved the colors of the sky at sunset, these colors that blended into each other, making love when they harmonize into a spectrum of richness. Is it okay to say I already miss you? The sun dipping into an unknown horizon doesn't feel the same without your words whispering into my ears. I know you are still here but you are gone too.

I still watch the sky, the white bleeding into a dimmed golden shimmer and the light existing in meagre quantities. It's breathtaking. I see the unadulterated blue existing for only a few minute at most, white ashy clouds visible like the green specks in your blue irises. You spoilt sunsets for me. I can almost imagine you pointing at clouds and telling me how coherent each shape is. I can imagine you laughing at me, your voice bellowing at the joke replaying in your head. Sunsets were always alluring in your presence.

The sun sits atop a straight line, it's radiance now only a fading orangey-ness. A bright red core shines through, and you may almost miss it if you weren't looking. The atmosphere has shifted, it's ombre and dark and bright at the same time. It's too blue for some and too red for some. I don't know how I feel about it. I see the blue oozing into an ochre that further seeps into a dark-almost, black-brown. It's a tormenting palate, a dullness that floats mixed with anticipation of the moon- and she's here. The moon and the sun exist peacefully in the dusky sky together. Their conclave hurts my heart. What if they were lovers? How unfortunate is it to meet your beloved for merely a few moments in a day? Maybe it makes sense now. The sun dims to let the moon shine; shine through the stolen light much like the sun's stolen heart. It's heartbreaking and marvellous at the same time. These precious minutes are gone too soon, the glowing darlings wish each other adieu and the sky is a black that screams through, cutting our souls and pushing them into the dark pits of sadness and vulnerable thoughts we're too scared to speak out in the presence of the colossal sun.

I'm haunted by the joy that erupts in me by watching a sun-less sky. There is something ghastly pleasing to see the moon take the centre stage. The moon-a dedicated lover, but a lonely lover. I can sadly relate. The poem you wrote for me is forever fixated on my tongue, words running over and over in my mind just like the way you so languidly said how you had now "fallen out of love" with me.

" Did you know?
  Whenever I look at the moon, thinking of you
  The moon shies away
  She whispers in the crisp night
  Of how the beauty is incomparable
  That your radiance is akin to that of the sun
  And the moon is merely the moon
  Because her light is merely a reflection of yours. "

You wrote this in your days as an amateur author but I treasure every syllable that had laid outspread onto that tattered old piece of paper.

And a dark void resides in my heart, I see the stars twinkling, an array of them laying there, bare and naked, for our eyes to marvel upon. But they fail to give me comfort. I feel colder than I should. I see you but I don't. Somewhere in the distance the night sings, I feel it, I feel the emptiness of an exquisite full moon which otherwise always beamed with happiness. Grey spreads around in the form of clouds that unfurl and move in their own synchrony. I see lights moving below my window in a dizzying pace, but it's all neglected, I can't move my focus from you. The moon's scintillating light bounces off into our dark room but I don't see it. The birds croon their nocturnal rhythm but I don't hear it. The wind hisses against my skin but I don't feel it, I simply gaze at the moon swimming amongst a galaxy of winking and blinking stars in an unapologetic sky. The moon never lost itself within them, it simply shone and shone on borrowed light, unabashedly and glamorously.

The night leaps from one phase to another, and I lose awareness of time. I sit through hours, gaping at the night sky sometimes and looking into an inky yonder sometimes. I hear the silence of a sleeping city and it delights me. But the quietness of our room terrorizes me. I feel trapped into a darkness that only seems to suck me in, an unbearable pain emanating in our vacant room. It's too much but I feel so numb too. The dried smudges of blood crumble off at my periodic rubbing of hands. But it's not what bothers me. Funnily it's the least of concerns.

It isn't until I see a now-familiar yellow silhouette metastasizing that I realise the sun is rising again. Time has again slipped through my horrifying thoughts and for a minute I feel like I regained some...sense. I beg to be Icarus, to fly so close to this celestial body, only to be melted away from it's intensity. I beg to be Icarus, to fly towards my impending doom, to be away from here, to be near you. The sun rays ricochet off our bodies and I flinch, only because I realise you are still sitting there, on your favorite chair. My heart leaps with joy, and I almost pounce on you till I realise something is very, very wrong.

Your eyes are desolate, your presence cold. Your skin is pale, and your back impaled with the butcher knife that I so obediently bought. And I see it. A big stain on my hand from your blood pouring out onto it.

And I smile.

The light

Her pale body was wrapped in a beautiful soft white and blue blanket. His mommy's favorite colors. The last year and a half had been torture if anything; witnessing the gradual descend of how the light in her eyes left her body in an agonizingly painful pace. Why had fate been so cruel? He brushed his teeth twice everyday, always ate food at the dining table, and barely gave trouble to his hard-working father when he changed his pyjamas. Then why was the light of his life nothing but a fading shadow now? He craved his mother's screaming and her incessant need to flatten his jet black hair. Her lemon verbena scent was everywhere in the house and he simply could not understand why she couldn't come home already. Wasn't a game of cards awaiting them in their living room at home?

Julian saw his 6 year old son having a mental debate in his own mind. The kid was so strong. Seeing Kiara everyday like this killed Julian a little by little everyday. She got more pale and frail as the days passed. Her breathing was low and the brown locks that once adorned her head were gone. She cried so much that day. The day the last lock fell, her tears knew no bound. She cried and cried till exhaustion took over, and when her eyes opened they had a new-found hollowness which let reality set in hard and rough. He saw what cancer did to her, how her hands were no thicker than breadsticks and how her once voluptuous figure metamorphed into brittle bones and sunken cheeks. What did they ever do wrong? Kiara was always the highlight of every night, the light of their lives, and now all he saw was a woman in defeat. He knew cancer sucked the soul from her. He couldn't do anything to help her from falling and failing, and that killed him the most. He vowed to protect and cherish her but today she was fighting a battle by herself. A battle she was predicted to lose.

The everyday commute to and fro from work, home and the hospital had not been easy. Kiara was an all-rounder. Waking up early to pack their tiffins and picking up Rehaan from school everyday. Julian was all over the place. Doing tasks half-heartedly and almost hastily to accomplish what Kiara did so effortlessly everyday. Rehaan saw that. He saw how the busy schedule and the sadness took a toll on his daddy. How his hero was struggling to make ends meet. His mommy did it so perfectly that he never really noticed how much work it takes to cook early morning breakfasts and fill in signatures in the journals. He wanted to help daddy. But daddy was so lost? Where was daddy? Was he ever listening? Where was the color in his cheeks and the energy that danced in his eyes?

She was ready to give in. She was fighting too hard for something that was already gone. But her two beautiful boys reminded her everyday of what she thrived for. Rehaan clung to mommy like she was life. She knew that Rehaan was the best thing Julian ever gave her and even imagining her baby boy somewhere a few metres away from her killed her. How can she just.. go? She knew that Julian couldn't find his blue tie for the sake of his life and Rehaan hated cheese like it had cooties. How would her two boys manage? She couldn't go there. Rehaan looked at her everyday with hope glimmering his eyes, waiting to take his beloved mommy so she can caress his messy mop of curls at night. And Julian? He always thought he is all composed and Iron-Man-y but the darkness that lay under his eyes and the puffiness that resided in his cheeks said otherwise. Her heart broke for him. He was trying to be so strong and supportive and she wanted nothing more to just get up and dance with the two of them like hooligans, but her bed was her coccoon and she wasn't allowed anywhere without it just yet. She will fight this war with the parasite that is cancer and she will win it. Fate could go to hell for all she cared because she will sucker-punch it when in few days from now she will be playing Lego with Julian and Rehaan.
Team Kiara-1
Team Cancer-0

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was happening too fast and too slow. One moment Kiara was smiling through her fragile lips and the next, there was a horrendous beep that echoed in the white chipped walls of the hospital. What was happening? Was it Julian screaming for the nurses or was it Rehaan? Who was crying? Doctors barged in, pumping the lifeless heart of the only woman these two big boys ever loved.
"Daddy please stop that sound! Why are they doing that to mommy?! Mommy wake up you haven't had your soup yet!"

Julian looked at his 6 year old through eyes that wouldn't stop weeping, looking at his strong boy crumble like powder, much like his own strength. This wasn't supposed to happen! They had to go to Italy yet and Kiara never completed task no. 9 of her bucket list! And she had 4 more months they said! This had to be a mistake!

The beep was gone, a tormenting silence settling amongst all the people in that room. Julian won't open his eyes, he didn't want to. He was reliving the moment they saw the sunset between the mountains. The moment Kiara said she had pictured all her life. An enchanting memory. A spellbinding picture. Rehaan won't stop crying but that moment was so precious, too precious to be shattered. His tears spilled into the gap between their bodies and in his now empty soul, a gut-wrenching absence that destroyed his heart. Rehaan wouldn't stop promising petty things that he thought would bring Mommy back. But Mommy was gone. She was so far away.
"I'm sorry."

The wind was knocked out of their bodies. Two words. Amidst those two words realisation had seeped in somewhere like poison spreading in the body. The two words that unleashed a series of gurgling screams from a very grown-up man. People say families of cancer victims are prepared for "these kind of things", but no number of lifetimes would ever prepare two freshly lonely boys to hear these two words. Everything was gone because she was gone.

Rehaan felt it. He felt the room go awfully cold and the warmth in his heart dying down like a dull campfire. The light in his life was suddenly gone. Why was everything black and white? Why was her body so blue? Mommy didn't even have her favorite soup yet! Who will tie my shoelaces? He ran to his mommy, shaking her hand to convince the doctors that she is in a mere slumber. Mommy didn't wake up! And why wouldn't daddy stop crying?! He never cried! Is Mommy gone? Oh the rash possibility! No mommy can't go! He made a deal with his "Big Friend" at the temple that he would keep her if Rehaan drank his milk everyday! And he did! Was his "Big Friend" a cheat? Why wouldn't daddy just get up and wake mommy up?

Julian saw his young one struggling to wake his mommy up. A ghost of a smile fell on his lips. Kiara always said Rehaan was like a koala clutching to her side. And now this koala was as lonely as him. Julian picked up Rehaan and hushed him, the duo's shadow falling on a lifeless body of the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. It was deadly silent. When had the doctors and nurses gone? His teary eyes glistened in the sparks of the dusk. That beautiful sunset reappearing again and shining light on the darkness that was suffocating the both of them. He could hear the air leave her lips and feel the wind frolicking her hair everywhere. It was a feeling he already missed. The emptiness was clear as day, eating away at two souls that may never seem complete.
Team Kiara-1
Team Cancer-10

And as the two favorite boys of Mrs. Kiara Penty stood, overlooking her defunct body, it was tough not to heckle at the irony. Although Kiara was gone that day, it was Julian and Rehaan that died even when they lived.

Author's note: This doesn't justify the pain of what people feel at all. It is so much worse. And it won't be okay for a long long time. But I hope someday,to whomsoever that lost the light of their life, you find it again.