Her

It’s a typical Saturday evening. The dusk is about to hit the sky, it’s the kind of atmosphere one gets to see before the rains.

The cool breeze is taking over the warm climate; maybe it’s just one of those evenings that troll you into believing that it would rain.

Me and Her- we’ve not talked for an hour. No it’s not because of some fight; it’s just that the silence between us is being filled with invisible form of information being transferred from my phone to hers.

It’s going to take a while for those are 150 images being sent over Bluetooth.
Most of the images are the ones that we took at Barbeque Nation at dinner last week. We’ve not talked for more than an hour I guess; for my Wife was being indecisive about which picture she should upload on Instagram even before this hour.

It’s been a long time since my Wife and I, had a heart to heart conversation with each other.
These evenings…they were different before.

She would make tea for both of us; the taste of which is really good, not better than the one Mom makes though.

We would drink the tea standing near the balcony, looking at people, talking about random stuffs. We spoke about how our lives had changed so much, about yesteryear and family, her workplace and mine.
About how different our lives would have been had we not met each other, the times we were just friends, my failed attempts of trying to hit on her, her failed attempts of understanding them, about us not being able to perceive our feelings for each other.

Had it not been our batch’s last official get together, we would have never known.  We hugged each other for saying goodbye and for some reason, held on for a little longer. When I saw her eyes, they were starting to fill up with tears. I didn’t want to see her like that; seeing her cry was painful for me.

I playfully stroked her hair and looked into her dark brown eyes that were now filled with tears of separation. We kept looking at each other, saying millions of words through our eyes, words that we had always wanted to say to each other.

“Always.” That was all I could say to her at that moment.

“Me too.” She said to me.

She would tease me about that little conversation we had on our batch’s Farewell and we would laugh for a really long time.

Our evening Chai would become cold as we talked and she’d want to make another one. “I like cold tea.” I’d protest, but she would never listen to me and make another cup of tea for us and then, we would continue talking.

I miss that. I miss those evenings, her laugh, our laugh, I miss all of that.

Evenings are now the time both of us stay busy pleasing our not so little virtual world for now we have to make this part of the world believe we like them, too; and somehow, for some reason, this world liking her, made her feel a lot more special.

“How is this for the upload?” Her words broke our hour long silence.

“Good enough.” I smiled.