The sky was lucid, which was exactly a paradox of his mind at that time. Aarav noticed that the stars were in some sort of symmetric alignment. Was it some sort of constellation? Maybe. He never knew and didn’t care much about them either. He was on the terrace gazing at the sky. The infinite sky to which it seemed the moon and the stars were embedded into. He enjoyed the tranquillity of the late night. It seemed serene to him.
“So, I am here. Let’s talk.”
“What do I talk about?” he asked.
“I am here when you can’t deal with things. I am here with you only when things that happen to you defy the supposedly well-crafted logic sense of yours. You are wondering whether you can talk to someone about your life. You’ll feel a lot better if you do, but you doubt whether or not you should do it.”
“Do I trust her enough?”
“Let us go through your logical part. As usual, I will ask you a series of questions. What is it that you hate about her?”
“Her quietude nature towards problems maybe. And I can’t seem to think more about it” he said.
“Stuff that’s trivial and completely normal. Are you compatible with her?”
“Yes.”
“She looks good too, right?”
He smiled. She did look good. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of the reasons he liked her. But it wasn’t a reason of very much importance. Ugly souls have been known to have pretty faces. Beauty isn’t solely physical.
“Yes, that is true. But then, it matters very less. Her beauty is one of the reasons I like her, but it’s nothing compared to how good a friend she is to me.”
“Good. So far, all good, right? Now, what makes her special?”
“She’s been with me through thick and thin. She’s been there when no one was, which seemed to be more than often. She understands me.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Because I am afraid. She seems perfect, and I am scared that like most of the people, she won’t always be there for me.”
“You seek perfection. To be honest, you cannot have it. Can you share everything with her?”
“I feel so. I don’t feel much hesitation in that.”
“That’s good. Logically, nothing’s wrong with her. So I have proven. I feel it’s time you let go of me.”
He called this hallucination “mirroring”. He had convulsed himself into so many conversations with himself that he could easily project himself as his reflection and interact. Solitude had taught him that alone can seem like a trance too, that alone is not always necessarily bad.
“Time for you to have a conversation with a real person. I think she is someone you can trust fully.”
“She isn’t perfect” he said.
“No one is. All the best. Remember this important fact, though.”
“Which is?”
“Even the moon has scars” his mirror said as it faded away.
He looked above at the sky yet again. The moon seemed perfect, an embodiment of grace and sophistication. Yet, it bore scars.
Even the moon has scars. And yet, it was the best thing in the tenebrosity of the sky.
She bolted the door of her room and sat at her table. Amidst all the various study books and novels arranged systematically sat the most prized possession of Ahaana’s life, her typewriter. She stared blatantly at that small yellow machine for a while. It seemed to call her, as always. It was her best friend. No one knows you better than you. No matter how close a friend can get to you, he/she can never completely know you. The best person to know and understand you is yourself. That is what she believed.
Writing became her passion once she understood the power of words. The longer she was at that typewriter, the longer she felt euphoric. Here, she did not fear anyone judging her views. Here, she wasn’t an introvert she was to the rest of the people.
She wrote when she was entwined in conundrums. For her, writing was a way of communicating with herself. The text itself was always a dialogue. With a calm composure, she began typing.
“I finally found someone with whom I can be myself.”
“That’s good. Do you trust him enough?”
“Trust is something that’s shaking me from this.”
“Everyone has trust issues. People can’t even trust one-way lanes while crossing the road, and trusting a person completely is something way more difficult.”
“But I really do not care about what I do, what I say, and what I behave like whenever I am around him.”
“That is good. He seems a good friend to you then. But, will he always be there for you?”
“He’s been there for far longer than most. He understood my thoughts even in my silence.”
“Will he leave you?”
“I hope not. He seems so… similar. There’s something about him that makes me vision myself whenever I see him. His eyes hide a lot of things, something which I do.”
“You need to talk to a person about yourself. You cannot vent it all out, but if you share the most with someone, it’ll ease the conflict inside your heart.”
“I am not sure of this.”
“See, what’ll happen worst? He’ll leave you and ignore the level your trust you’ll show in him, which really seems impossible. Don’t think so much. Just go for it.”
The sound of the keys stopped after the last line. She was a very mature person now, and experience had showed her the duality of people. If after all this time, she’s able to trust someone, why not go for it?
With a scarce sense of confidence, she pulled out the sheet she had been writing on and proceeded towards her cupboard. In the bottom-most drawer of it, she pulled out the clothes kept very orderly and placed the sheet on the block of innumerable similar papers hiding.
---- TO BE CONTINUED -----