A butterfly's pie.

They were meeting after a long time. He was anxious. She was cheerful. They had a summer together, and now a couple of winters since. They had named their weeks together on flowers. And there was a whole unkempt garden between them now. He called her butterfly, she called him apple pie.
So where does one start after ten reruns of their favourite TV shows, neither knew. It started with a crumbling apple pie on her plate and an open social networking site on his slate.

They met at a cafe. On a roof top. One of the busy by-lanes of a city they half explored in their previous life together. She asked for coffee - Black. No Milk. He wanted something cold to sooth his burning self. He asked for something Hot.

The place was set. The pleasantries exchanged. The accent changed. And the humour charged.

She had pretty eyes. His only for her. They wanted to talk, emote, maybe even communicate. And that is the thing with eyes, they just blink, flicker and close. And everything else is lost in between.

He did not remember why they parted, he did remember when. And the number of girls even since then. She remembered that night. And the sound of their fight. Her message tone echoed her fears. He was once too dear.

He dint love her anymore, of that he was sure. She wasn't sure why she still felt something weird.
They were like children lost in a playground from another time.
She smiled, he acknowledged. She had the same vacant expressions on her face. Something that he had not found anywhere else. He had the same grin, when he saw something he wanted.

He reminded her of everything that she had left behind to start afresh. She reminded him of the path he did not take. And on that day when the sun was setting over the city horizon, it did not matter to either of them. She just wanted to be with her apple pie. And he had found his butterfly.
Once Again.

Lavender

That girl in the bus.
She took the last unoccupied seat, the one in front of mine. She looked at me, I stared back. We spoke through our silent stare, mine asking her name and hers asking me to shove off. I sensed that i might not have been the first to acknowledge her presence, and that i wouldn't be the last.
So we begin our journey together from Point A to B. The only obvious contradiction in the plan was that i was expected at Point C. She would alight at Point B, i wondered if i should change my Point C to Point B.
I watched her look out of the window trying to keep track of the places along. I saw that she had red ear plugs muffling my heart's screams with a genre of music which I would never know. She had brown hair, the wavy sort, trying to cover her face with the wind. I remember the sunlight filtering through her hair, it justified her image i was busy creating in my head.
I kept looking, hoping that she would turn any minute and talk to me. I wondered if she'd ask my name, if my name was good enough to be asked. I promised to myself that i would not call her for 3 days, if i got her number. I tried hard to think of a quirky conversation starter, i was never really good at starting a conversation.
I heard her hymn a familiar tune, and i knew it then that the same almost-got-it tune which would haunt me forever.
I saw a tattoo sneak a peek at me from her back. It was a part of something strange, it gave her an air of mysticity.
She had Brown hair, Red ear plugs, a part-butterfly looking tattoo, a yellow bag and an eye colour that i would find hard to recollect later. That was all i knew about this person sitting right ahead of me in a bus filled with people who had more detailing features to offer.
I looked outside the window as this enchanted bus came to a halt. I saw a tree on the other side of the road with bright lavender coloured flowers. The flowers highlighting the tree in all its glory. I felt happiness seeping into me. With a gradual motion the bus started moving again. I turned away, shifting my gaze from the tree which was now moving past to the person I was longing to speak to, but she wasn't there.
She had got off at her Point B, and I had missed my point C.

I would travel by the same bus sitting at the same seat for many days to come, but I wouldn't see her again. I wondered if she would have looked back that day before she got off hoping to catch my name or tell me hers. I wished the tree was never there, but every journey I took from A to C reminded me it was very much there.

And then one day, many months later, I saw her again.
She got on at Point A. She smiled, I sat there dumbstruck. I noticed the exact same features that had become so familiar now. It was me and her slowly inching towards the lavender tree. I promised myself that i would not look away this time, but accept Point B as my Point C. Time stood still as the same tune played in my head again, I wouldn't remember it this time either.
The bus stopped at Point B/C. She got up to get off, I had my heart in my mouth. She went to the door, and ever so effortlessly she turned back.
She had brown wavy hair, and an innocent face. She looked at me as though she had been planning for this moment for a while. She raised her eyebrows, smiled and hinted towards the door.

I smiled.

Many years later, I took the Bus again. Youth was in my past and Old-age a distant future.
I waited for Point B as I tried to remember the first day I met her.
My hair was Oiled and combed to perfection, hers was messy and allover in the wind. I had freckled skin, hers was clear as the cloudless sky. I wore spectacles and she was the spectacle to see.
I got off at Point B. I crossed the road and went over to the tree. I sat on a bench by the tree and wondered, whatsoever happened to that girl who had made this place so familiar to me. The girl who had brown hair, maybe a butterfly tattoo and an innocent smile.
The Girl who bought a smile on my face with every passing thought.
That Girl whose name echoed "Lavender" to me.

Shadow of the Sea

I am alone.
I lay awake on a boat. Ashore.
I can hear the waves splattering against the rocks, and the song of the seagulls.
The coconut tree bends over to obscure the moon, the moonlight filtering through its leaves onto my face. There is an eerie silence about the place. A calmness that has something turbulent about it, like an impending storm.
I look at my palm, it’s not soft anymore. I smile wondering if it had ever been soft. I wonder if life would have been any different had these hands been trained to wield something else than an Oar. In those days it was a rite of passage, for a young boy into adulthood. The unforgiving sea was the giver and the taker. A sail to the harness its riches was the ultimate test. The ultimate test for a little man to grow into a bigger man, the bigger man living within the little man henceforth.
It was a long time ago. I cannot remember the finer details, but the ones who failed seldom made it back alive. And the ones who did make it back, seldom lived again.
 It was nearly midnight, the full moon hovering brightly over the sea. It was a marvelous sight, it had always remained one. The setting was beautiful, almost enchanting. There was always something special about these nights, for they belonged to me.
 Every full moon night I come lay on this abandoned boat, awake until the first signs of the dawn. It was my hideout; it was my escape from reality. I could not run away from the life that had chosen me, I could not fight it. I had to accept the salty bitterness of the sea, and the sticky taste of it. The only defiance I had against all of it was these peaceful nights. The place filled me with a sense of hope. A lone island in the vast turbulent sea, my sea.
What exactly I was running from, I did not know. As far back as I can remember I was fighting it. It has to stop, I must let go. I knew I wouldn't. Not today, maybe the next full moon night. Like the previous night and the ones before, reality would come alive with the dawn. Sometimes I wondered if making peace with my demons was the right thing to do. I doubted if I wanted to. What would happen to this place if I did? I was afraid to lose this haven, this solitude.

 I sense an unfamiliar presence nearby, an aberration in my universe. The movement startles me. I do not appreciate this disruption of my solitude. I curse the lone figurine walking away in the native tongue. I do not get any response. I try to return to my thoughts, but the presence is alarming. This time I sit up and take notice. I heighten my senses. I look at her in silence.
  Who is this lady? What is she doing here at this forbidden hour? I cannot calm myself, too many questions flood my head. I get off the boat to get a closer look.
  We had been walking for about a mile along the coast when she suddenly stopped. The boat lay at a faraway place now. I see her look out to the endless sea, I follow her gaze. I cannot find a stone out of place. I wonder if it was the best of decisions to follow a stranger.
  I look at her with more curiosity now. Her face seems familiar. I am not able to place her in my memory. I continue looking at this golden-skinned being. Her beauty is astonishing. I look up at the fine creation waiting ahead for me.
 I cannot stop myself from being attracted to her. I feel something stirring within me, like a fire engulfing my soul. I cannot trust my senses anymore. I am afraid, but the fear seems to die with every passing second. I should not stop now, I must not. The creator must have his due appreciation tonight.
 I am a mere mortal, a man of earth and clay. I can fight the desires of men, but not of gods themselves.
 She turns to look at me, and I know it’s time. I look into her eyes, I can sense her longing. She has been waiting for this night for a long time. I touch her golden skin, and I sense her breathing grow heavier. A goddess in her mortal form, giving in to the desires of men.
We embrace our reality. We give in, to the night.


I woke up at dawn, I was in my hut. It could not have been just another dream. I remember every detail of the night before. I ran to the spot where she had stopped to stare at the sea. I could not believe what I saw. The struggle of the previous night lay evident in the wet sand before me.

I returned to the abandoned boat, every full moon since.
I never saw her again, but her presence never went unnoticed.