The Promise of the Last Scenes

The curtain draws upon the scene. It is my last day at the local social club I had joined. Thankfully, there was nothing melodramatic about it. Yes, in a way I missed all the drama. Nonetheless, I was very OK with a gentle peck on my cheek by my fellow mates at the institute, as a parting gift.

Nostalgia, that has often left me grief stricken, even before the final goodbyes were said, failed to stand in my way like a hung-up hurdle. I took a long hard stare from where I stood (today) to where I stood four years back.

Organizing my closet, I cleared all the icons of reminiscences. ‘Ah! All the idiots I had collected’, I said to myself, as I dusted off the dirt from the daily task journal. I was relieved that my supervisor at the club had little idea about my so-called notes.

I wanted to rush back home to meet my new life. I had taken a voluntary retirement from the fast paced life. My ‘To-Do’ list replaced, well, another ‘To-Do’ list. The former was a dummy run catalogue. This new one that I had all planned up in my mind, was more of a wish list.

A) Will get a tramp stamp kind of tattoo

B) Will get hair colored pink and yellow

C) Will watch Grey’s Anatomy all day long

D) Will have some solo romance and treat myself to some of the best chocolates in the world.

E) Will re-do my closet and my room

F) Will cook, draw, dance and fly!

While I was looking forward to take up all this, I knew I was giving up a lot in return. Only I knew why I was leaving and where to. I knew I won’t see him ever again. I had waited long enough for the devastating silence to break its voice. We spoke finally. He promised, he’ll call. I don’t know, but I guess I said, “ Everything would be fine”. The End.

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Shivangi

Shivangi

Some girls are made of sugar and spice and all things nice. Others, like me, are red haired, raw, and quite plus sized. Read my work on food and fashion on this blog.
Shivangi
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