Facade

The dark haired woman walked along the footpath on an isolated road at zero hours. Her eyes looked glassy, her wrinkled face, expressionless and she, unfocused, as if a spell had been cast on her and she was completely unaware of her surroundings.

Her life flashed in front of her eyes and none of the highlights brought back memories she could cherish. Instead, she was reminded of the time when she had discovered her best friend’s slender arms wrapped around her first love, their lips locked, and fingers intertwined.
A tear separated itself from the rest that had started to well up in her eyes, when she remembered the day her fiance stood her up at the alter. Whenever a guest questioned the absence of her fiance, “He must be stuck in traffic!”, she had said.

She fell to her knees and wailed with pain. The words that her eighteen year old son had said not more than an hour ago, echoed in the quietness.
“Don’t tell me what to do.
You’re not even my real mother!”
“Where did you pick me up from? Someone else’s lap?”

The woman sat with her face in her palms under the night and cried till those words were letters and the letters formed new sentences in her head.
Her life had always been nothing more than a lie, a facade, in which every moment wore a mask of happiness, laughter and of all things bright. And once she picked that moment, it showed its true colors to her. It revealed its miserable, horrible self.

Her heart ached, as she made her final pick and let herself fly off the infamous bridge, putting an end to the Facade.

Dear ‘best friend’

Dear ‘best friend’,
I’ve had enough, this is it.
The show has come to an end,
And tonight, we must split.

Your defence is that I’ve used you,
Feel free to throw more words,
Call me ugly, unfit, shrew.
I’ll hear em all, through the birds.

Yes the birds, the ones that talk,
They told me the stories you cook.
I won’t lie, it came as a shock,
When you published my secrets in your book.

And there you stand,
Livid and mad,
Because you think I don’t know.
Well now I hope it’s clear,
the reason why,
I care for you, but I will never show.

Cake

Tarun rushed towards the black Fortuner that he had just unlocked in the parking lot of the Mumbai Police Headquaters. He held in his hand an enormous list of things  that needed to be done, and there simply was no time to waste.
The speedometer reflected zero to hundred in no time as the vehicle zoomed past pedestrians.
“10:00”, the clock said.

The first stop was going to be the infamous local bakery that went by the name of ‘Baker’s Street’. Necessary supplies had to be picked from there tonight. He wondered if she would like the candles that looked like flowers or the Sparkler candles. He chose the Sparklers. She had always loved the firework show on New Years eve right before the final countdown.

Next halt was going to be at Petals, the florist he relied on when the days were dark and he needed to remind someone of his undying, unconditional love for her.
“I’d like to buy all of these, please. All of these orchids. Orchids are her favourite!” he blushed as he pointed to every bouquet that stood in the store eagerly waiting to be taken home.

He glanced at the Tissot T-Race on his wrist. He had less than an hour!

With the scent of flowers taking over his senses, he raced the Fortuner towards a residence.
Plot no. 302. Was it?
Nevertheless, he rang the doorbell.

A woman wrapped in a purple satin robe opened the door and welcomed him into her home with a smile. She looked gorgeous. Her lustrous, dark hair fell over her shoulders. Her eyes gleamed.

“Take a seat” she said.
He nodded before she left his company and walked into her dim- lit bedroom.

Within minutes, she reappeared.
There it was. In her hand. A small rectangular box wrapped in a red gift wrap.
Tarun’s face shone.

“Thank you so much Naina. I knew I could count on you!” he exclaimed.
“You’re my cousin. There’s no need for all that formality” she replied.

The traveller finally left for his destination.

When he finally arrived, he looked at the watch one more time. Eleven forty. He smiled and tip-toed into his two storied bungalow. She would be in the study, taking a cat-nap on the leather recliner. He didn’t need to worry.

One by one, he placed the items he had bought on the dining table. He decorated the bedroom with all the orchids.
He placed the candles, and the lighter, and a pink paper box on the table. Next to it, he placed with a letter, the gift he had bought for his beloved. It was a pair of diamond earrings she had shown interest towards last month. She would love it.

Lastly, he pulled out from his pocket a small fridge magnet he had bought at Petals. She adored his gooey romantic gestures.
You’re my one and only, forever and ever” it said.

His hands froze before he could place the magnet on the fridge. A note written in black ink was stuck to it.

“Looks like it’s not just your wife’s birthday today, Tarun. I’m turning a year older today as well and I’m taking your wife as my birthday present.You can have her back, but only when you send my brother back. Yes, the one you helped send to prison last week.
Oh and, don’t forget to send me some of the Cake you bought!
-You know who I am”