Déjà vu

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said.

‘Like what?’ he asked.

‘You know. Like there’s something more between us than what there really is,’ she answered.

‘What then, is really between us?’ he prodded further.

‘Nothing. There’s nothing between us,’ she said adamantly.

‘That’s not true,’ he said, digging a fork into a roasted ball of vegetable. ‘If it were so, we wouldn’t have been having this conversation here today.’

She considered that for a moment. ‘Even if there is something betwee n us, you still have no right to look at me like that,’ she said looking down at her own plate, playing with her food.

‘It’s impolite.’

‘No,’ he said.

‘No what?’

‘It’s not impolite. It’s…’ he paused, unable to decide whether to say the next word out loud or not. ‘Romantic,’ he said finally.

She looked as if she wanted to be taken aback, but couldn’t. As if she almost expected him to say that. ‘You have no right to look at me romantically either,’ she said shuffling in her seat.

‘I can’t help it,’ he said. After a brief pause he continued, ‘as can’t you.’

She was surprised this time. She realized her own eyes had been deceiving her. Ironically, his hadn’t. They conveyed perfectly what he wanted them to convey. Somehow, even her eyes conveyed what he wanted them to, she thought.

‘I don’t love you,’ she said.

‘You do,’ he said. ‘You always have. You always will. You can bury the lovers, but you can’t bury the love. It lives on… What we had was true love. Can’t be taken back at will.’

‘Why can’t it?’ she asked. ‘This is just wrong.’

She still looked beautiful when annoyed. It had been 7 months since he had last seen her. 7 months since he realized that the paths of their lives weren’t magically going to converge. 7 months since he had last heard her voice until today when she called to say that she was in the city. 7 months since he had slept well.

‘That’s how love is. It doesn’t die. We’re cursed to live with the pleasant memories till the end of our days.’ The touch of her last kiss still lingered on his lips. He had woken up in the middle of many a night in anxiety unable to find her next to him.

‘How do you know that? You don’t understand love any better than I do,’ she said.

‘I don’t. True. What I understand about love is simply my theory. We all have our own theories of love,’ he replied.

‘I don’t,’ she said.

‘You should,’ his reply came swiftly. ‘You’re what? 24? If you still don’t have a theory of love, you might have missed out on something in life.’

She held that thought for a moment. Somehow, he had managed to hold her at every word of his tonight. ‘Whatever it may be, but we can’t be together. You know that. Whatever we do, we won’t be together.’

‘We’re together now,’ he said. ‘In this moment. In the great web of space, in this vast expans e of time, in this one moment, tonight, over this lovely dinner, we’re together.’

‘Yes…’ she said. ‘But tomorrow, you won’t be here. Tomorrow when I miss you, you won’t be here with me.’

‘So should the fear of something  not being  there tomorrow refrain us  from cherishing it today?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said as a silent lonely tear fell from her eye.

He got up to come next to her and held her in his arms. The arms she knew so well. She came in and held him as if he was the pillar he needed to hold on to her own life.

‘I’ll tell you something,’ he said. ‘Most people are unable to face grief. They’d rather choose to become indifferent to the pain and switch their emotions off. They run away. Over time, the grief eats them from within. They become different people, hollow, unable to experience emotion at all. You’re different. You don’t run away. You suffer through it. That’s what makes you braver than all of them. You choose pain over numbness.’

She said nothing, just kept her head buried in his chest. After a while, he heard her voice. ‘This is not how I’d imagined this evening would end. I thought I’d give you a peck on the cheek and that’ll be it. And we’d take our own separate ways as we’re meant to do.’

Who’s to decide what we’re meant to do, he thought, but kept it to himself. Instead, he kissed the top of her head.

She looked up at him. Somewhere in the hug, she drew him closer.

‘No,’ he resisted. ‘If we do this now, I don’t know what you’ll feel about it tomorrow. You may choose never to see me again. You may choose to never see my face fearing what it does to you. I can afford not kissing you. But I can’t afford to never see you again.’

She stayed silent, but kept drawing him closer. He seemed to have given in and leaned in towards her. As their lips were about to touch, he heard her say, ‘better to do something and regret it, than not experiencing it at all.’ At her last word, he felt her lips  touch his. He remembered saying this to her the first time he’d kissed her – a memory from another life. He felt her so-familiar hair in her fingers once again. He hugged her closer to him and tighter. He wanted her, in that moment. He wanted nothing but her. He couldn’t afford to lose her.

He loved her.

---

The dream broke and he found himself back to reality, staring at hi s Facebook feed.

‘Priya is in Mumbai,’ it proclaimed next to the picture of the Gateway of India. He texted her, 

“Dinner this Sunday?”

7 minutes passed before blue ticks appeared on his message.

“Of course,” came the immediate reply.

A History of the Wall

Year: 5016
Location: Mexicos

Thousands of years ago, in a time known popularly as the “Dawn Age”, this land was inhabited by a mysterious race remembered in history as “Americans”. We do not have historical records for this age. Perhaps they were destroyed. We do hold rusted metal bars and discus-like objects. At best guess, they were probably toys. Evidence from history tells us that Americans were not a scientifically advanced race. However, they were extremely resourceful when it came to warfare and violence.

This changed with the coming of the Mexicans. Sometime between 4,000-6,000 years ago Mexicans began to go into America attracted by the vast landscape and wealth of resources which were mis-utilized by Americans. Furious with the Mexican Invasion, the Americans began assessing ways on how to keep the Mexicans out of their holy lands. But they lacked the discipline or unity to act upon a plan. In was during this time the idea for the Wall was first conceived. But it was shrugged off immediately. We have deciphered ancient texts which tell us that the idea was widely regarded as “stupid”.

As the Mexicans grew larger and stronger in the lands of America the natives resisted the invasions by all forces at hand. However, the Mexicans stayed resilient. They even married amongst the Americans, thus developing harmony within the nation. This deeply disturbed the “purer and superior” factions of the American populace who kept up the resistance. But they were ignored by the Mexicans, and slowly even from their own kind who now began to welcome us into their lands in a peaceful manner. With time, the violence decreased. The negotiations remained only political. There were still those in America who believed that Mexicans were bad for their land. They called themselves the Grand Old People (GOP). But that section of the society was denounced as those who feared progress, were xenophobic, and tribal. Thus with time our brethren made home in America.

Stories tell us that about 3,000 years ago there came a dark period in the history of America when the GOP raised a hero to reclaim their lands. This was an era of fear and paranoia in the lands of America. This hero, whom legends call President Drumpf, created armies of brain-dead zombies called the Whites. They came with their cold souls from the north, abusing, belittling, and suing anyone who disagreed with them, were not of their race, or tried to negotiate with them.

At first President Drumpf seemed like an unlikely hero. But while no one was looking, President Drumpf gained enough supporters to create a Wall in the kingdom that was once Texan (now called Torne). President Drumpf pushed the Mexicans back south and created the massive wall that you see before yourselves. And the connection between us and our brethren has remained lost since.

Traders who have sailed north through the NATO Sea to America tell us that today America is a war-torn nation with strife both within and outside its borders. Torne has since then tried to move out of the Union but has been stopped by means of force and political favours including an independent constitution. Yet, America has not been able to remain as a completely “United State”, with many kings fighting each other to take control of the Marble Dome – the house of the ruler of the land. President Drumpf came to be known as “The Last Hero” as he was the last President of the United State of America. By the end of his reign the land started to crumble.

President Drumpf installed his children (both legitimate and otherwise) as future kings but America. In absence of proper records of history since then the timelines get blurry. We have tried to list some of the Drumpfs known throughout history.

• Drumpf the First: The Last Hero of America. By the end of his reign the country almost entirely broke down but was left hanging by thin threads. Ironically, he is also known as Drumpf the Builder for his contribution in building the Wall. Double ironically, despite being such a renowned builder, records show that he had terribly tiny hands.

• Trump the Cruel: Son of the Last Hero through his 4^th wife (mistress?) He attacked the Church suffering major military losses. He refused to acknowledge his father’s name and took over the older name of his family, “Trump”.
• Trump II: Under him there was a major civil war between within the family amongst 2 factions of the family – the Trumps and the Drumpfs. The Drumpfs emerged victorious in this conflict, though not without suffering major losses.
  
• Drumpf the Nationbane: America broke down entirely during his reign. Some say that this was intentional on his part as he wanted to avenge the country which had done so much harm to his family.
  
• Trump the Unworthy: An offshoot in the “Trump” branch of the family. He did not reign but took to drinking and whoring. Died at 23 at 342 kgs while trying to have sex with a penguin smuggled from Cuba.
  
• Trump the Good: Not much is known about him. It is likely that he is a literary construct by a member of the Trump family to restore some glory to the family name.
  
• Trump the Mad: Assassinated by his own bodyguard. When asked why, Jamie Clinton said, “well someone had to end the bullshit!"

Our Song

Let me hold you tonight, till the end of time

for the heart has no greater desire

Who knows if we shall meet again

or shall my hopes reach my pyre

Blessed is this moment that brought you here

standing so very close to me

let me drown in the beauty

my eyes shall always crave to see

Who knows if I may find such a night again

who knows if future shall bring me this sweet pain

Come close to me, for we meet in our final moment

Hold me tight, for I’m to melt against you

Who knows if my eyes shall find tears in days to come

so hold me tight, and let me shed a few

Who knows if time will ever be merciful again

would it let you be mine, or would I have lived in vain

Let me feel your touch, your smile, your lips, your soul

Let me know you’re near so I can just be

I fall in absence, closing my eyes grappling your memories

Trying to breathe, collecting broken pieces of me

Who knows if your addiction would ever fade away

will I conquer it, or will I come to its bidding and sway

I lie to the world, put on a mask, ‘coz no one cares

But to you I’m honest, for you I try to fight despair

Entering madness, scarring myself, maybe it’s too late

My demons aren’t unbeknownst, they’re already here

Who how much longer would my nights be cursed

who knows if I’ll lose you, or myself first

I remember you lying close to me, watching your smile

I know not what goes through me, I know it’s divine

If a day of beauty is a joy forever

then you my dear are eternal sunshine

Who knows when I’ll see such a day

who knows if pain temporary, or here to stay

Now everyday is a struggle to reach the next

to breathe and survive to hope that the pain will not last

Moment by tormented moment, remembering your smile,

all the secrets we shared, all the memories rushing past

Who knows what end my sufferings see

to take me captive, or to set me free

And if you’re unable to come, worry not

Your memories never stop visiting

On the canvas of time we’ve painted

memories that keep our story living

Who knows what the future has in store for us

who knows if time offers winds of glory, or only rust

Vishal Gupta

30 May 2016