One Shot

If I stop by your home one evening to ask you how you have been all this while, would you tell me the truth or would you lie to me? I'd take a box of customised dark chocolates for you because...I think I know your sweet tooth never says "No" to them.

Your eyes would widen on seeing me after years, I am a little worried that they would sneak a look at the bodily expressions I planned to hide. I guess that is how it is supposed to be...a little nervousness on my mind and a bit of your inquisitiveness to normalise the situation.

Thankfully, I am good at covering up a lot of the ongoing mess inside my head with some self-deprecating humour. I would unapologetically exploit my sense of humour and push it beyond a boundary where I would secretly hope that it breaks the iceberg between us from the tip to the crux. The skyline would bask in the glory of the orange hues. The sun might gobble the melted ice and pour its heart out emotionally on seeing us sipping on a cup of espresso as we find words to express ourselves.

You remember how I fell asleep when we watched a bizzare horror film together during a rainy night on that maroon couch placed at the centre of your living room? I couldn't tolerate those pseudo ghosts roaming around in white gowns and tuxedos who came down to attend their cousin's wedding on 31st October in 1938.

The U-turn we mutually decided to take was not made in haste. Or was it? Hadn't we given each other that warm hug before we could afford to take the road not taken?

I have been driving for two hours, I just crossed the Punjabi dhaba we used to eat paneer butter masala and aloo parathas from. I am hungry, terribly hungry. But I am in a hurry to get your place and to catch up with you. That is my top priority at the present time. It is important for me to know that you are happy, it has always been that way no matter what.

I ring the doorbell. "Papa is not at home", a young girl wearing a blue frock informs me. I happen to look at the letter box next to your door and notice a different name on it. I can hear a lady at the background... "Who is at the door child?"

"Your Secret Santa has sent these dark chocolates for you." The girl is smiling and overwhelmed with joy as she runs into her house with the unexpected gift.

"One plate paneer butter masala and two aloo parathas please." The paneer butter masala has lost its charm and the parathas taste just fine.

"Long drives are not that bad." You were right they aren't, not when you travel with a purpose.

©songbriti

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