Just a dream

Harsh had an exam to give. I was with my family when I saw him at the exam center, a school that was my aunt’s. I wished him best of luck with all my heart. As I saw his over 6 feet tall and broad figure oozing confidence go in, I knew strongly that I liked the guy. He was the same as the Harsh I knew now, in real life.

After his exam, some guy raised a dispute regarding him and Harsh. I don’t even remember what the dispute was about. Just that I went to him to tell him it was going to be alright. He pulled away when I reached for his hand; it hurt but I took it and gave it a squeeze nevertheless, muttering best of luck.

His hand was sweaty and firm and I wanted to tell that I knew he would dust the problem away, but I held myself back because that was probably the last thing he wanted. Even in the dream I knew I wanted his hands to hold me lovingly, it seemed so impossible that it hurt.

Inside the room the dispute took on for some time. I could see their conversation and I could see the amazing responses that Harsh gave. I was sure my eyes were tinkling with admiration. I couldn’t help but laugh at the references he used. I turned around when I felt someone watching; it was him.

I told him how impressed I was with all the responses. He did give me a genuine thank you and even in my dream I could see that he was proud of himself. ‘Good. Always be, because you are fucking amazing without even trying’ I thought.

I don’t know if he came closer or I did. It was just the two of us now, darkness around us, must have been a dark corridor. I could see him looking a bit embarrassed but resolute. He always knew what he was talking about which is why when he said ‘I don’t usually take girls to my home, but, would you like to come?’, I broke down.

I could feel myself breaking down even in my dream. ‘This can’t be real’ I thought in my dream. I could see the look in his eyes, I could see that he knew how much I liked him and that he wanted to try to give it back. It wasn’t pity, I knew he wouldn’t do it for pity, it was genuine. Did he finally realize the depth of my feelings for him?

Faintly, I could hear him ask why I was crying and joke that I needn’t come if I felt bad about it. I shook my head vigorously ‘These are happy tears’. I knew I was exposing raw how I felt about him, though I had told him before but got awfully rejected and had even broken the meagre bond we had in the process. But I didn’t care.

Just the small gesture of him asking me that was way overwhelming, because if I knew him at all, it meant a lot to him, even if it was just as friends. He wasn’t someone to ask first, and for him to be doing it with me, it had to mean he had softened to me. He didn’t love me, but he didn’t hate me either. There was a possibility that he even liked me a little. It was enough, to hold on, to feel exhilarated, it was too much.

The scene changed and now I was with my mom, sisters and brother, outside a cinema theatre. I saw Harsh and his friend coming out the door and my eyes widened. I didn’t know I was gripping at my brother’s chest so tight that he looked up in the direction I was seeing and said ‘Ohh, isn’t he the guy you like?’ in marathi.

I looked down, my cheeks on fire as Harsh had suddenly locked eyes with me just then. I could feel my mom’s eyes on me too as she asked ‘Do you like that guy’? I looked her in the eye with a new found courage that I knew could take any challenge in its way when I said ‘Yes’.

I loved him. I knew it. I loved and admired everything of him. I knew I could argue with the universe for it. Even now I felt like running into his arms as I had already told my mom about this anyway. ‘We’ll talk about this later’ she said before they started walking towards the glass doors of the theatre. And I knew she would try to convince me saying it was all ‘moh-maya', but I knew it wasn’t.

I felt it so strong, even in my dream, I knew how deep my feelings for him were. I saw his gaze transfixed on my Mom and I wondered if she was giving him a calculating and judging stare. Even if she did, his face didn’t show, it remained neutral and fixed. I grimaced as I thought how he must hate her given her political affiliations.

The two people I cared a lot about didn’t probably like each other. Somehow I knew my mom wouldn’t like a bold person like him who could tell it to her face how wrong she was. And again I couldn’t help but admire how he kept his thoughts from showing as he even turned when we went past, his eyes still on my mom’s back now.

I stayed back just for a while after they all went past the glass door, turned and caught his eyes. His hazel eyes going ohh so well with dark brown-black hair locked with mine and it took my breath away. He was wearing a dark blue shirt that contrasted with his young flamingo type pinkish-white skin and looked delicious like he always did.

‘Family time’ I mouthed, filling my eyes with apology. He understood. Putting his hands into his pockets with that subtle pursed lip smile he always gave, he gave me a small understanding nod. It melted my heart. I wanted to stay there and relish that moment forever, maybe put it on replay.

I could feel my reluctance to go inside because I might never see that look in his eyes again; of a little affection, a lot of understanding and promise. It was rare, for me at least and it was precious, however crazy I sounded. But he had invited me to his home, so I’ll have to see him again. Reassuring myself with that thought, my heart still fluttering, I went to join the others for the movie.

The smell of pillow hit first as the song in Sanskrit and Marathi faded in background. Vaguely I felt the pillow my head was on and then the reality hit with a force that broke a sob out of me. It was a dream. A fucking dream. It wasn’t real. It felt like someone had just snatched all my happiness with it. I had never regretted waking up from a dream this much ever before. And I did break into tears, my heart tugging at me. I didn’t want to live this reality, didn’t want to see the usual coldness and indifference in the eyes I had been in love with just few moments back.

I wanted that softness, the warmth, the understanding and the fierce determination all for myself. I wanted his fierce love for myself. With the thought of not ever wanting to forget the dream, I started typing it all out, all the while fiercely hoping that the person who said ‘Day dreams come true’ was right.

But as I typed, I realized it couldn’t happen. I had broken his trust once. I knew he couldn’t ever see me with those eyes. I didn’t deserve it. Just the time he had decided to trust me with something very important, I broke it. I could give anything to go back in time and undo what l did. I couldn’t express how sorry I felt and miserable of my actions. I just wished he knew how horrible I felt for having done that.

Maybe I deserved all the pain I got with him, for breaking his trust. I knew I would never do it again. And all the while I contemplated letting him reading this; I knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Anything I said right now, wouldn’t make any difference to someone who has walled me off completely, it would be rendered meaningless instead and I didn’t want it to be.

I wanted to wait, for the time when he would be receptive, to tell all this. That time would probably never come, he would never probably know that he was making my dreams a fairy tale I could give my life for. But my heart clung on the hope, because dream or not, I knew that a part of me longed for him.