Sunday, July 14, 2013

The sad tale of John and Sarah IV

...

Here, this story dies. It's natural end has come and is here to stay, unless it is sprung back to life mysteriously. John, alas, is but dismayed. He is amazed at the swish of reply that, only in this particular case, washed away all the positively reasonable social skills he had amassed over the years from the time he was born. More than just talking to a wall, it was like talking to a confused, disjointed thing. There was no other explanation. At least none was being offered. The prayer is that the obvious sane answer was right, and that so was the fervent hope, which John liked to believe, was being held onto. Only God knows what transpires between that belief and the reality of that situation indeed. What the world would be if we were left with no hope is a possibility which, not only John, but every other human being as well, would rather not engage with.

The one thing that John took back from the situation was that every relationship, however fragile, robust or both, has a science to it. You don't just meet amazing, cool, awesome, fun people and get to keep some of it with you just like that. By the grace bestowed upon the world, by Life itself, you should be thankful, and grateful, for every ounce of that. As much it was a certain magic all round, there is a mechanical function to the whole deal as well. You communicate. You reciprocate. You make the extra step. You step aside from the spotlight when the magic seems strained. 'You' implying any one person in the relationship.

At some point, a friendship stops becoming something that happens to you. It becomes something you seek to maintain. At that point, the science comes in the most. And most of the time people acknowledge it, except some of the time, like in this particular case. We usually respond to the perks, again in most cases. In some cases, like this one, we assume that the perks will be there anyway - like call bells or stuff that gets stored in the cupboard for later use. In the case of the latter example, sometimes that stuff rots.

"All this drama, you say?", John would ideally retort. "No", he would add. This is like the little girl who once innocently asked a question to a person she had come to trust closely, someone who struck that magical chord with her, and who had, in her heart, replaced her Dad who has passed away closely. Since the tragic day, the person gave up more things that he could care to count for being with the little girl, and that magic made the result of what was tragic into something just heart touchingly magical.

She asked, perched on his lap and hugging the person tight, "Who decides which people must join in a bond that brings out the magic between plain existences?". The person, as expected, had no answer except in the confidence that the little girl had already seen it in action, and was only responding in amazement to the phenomenon.


As John bid goodbye to Sarah as she moved towards to the horizon, he pondered that thought. Hard. But then again, it needn't be so complicated. It should just be reciprocated, at least.

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