Maybe In Another Life (2 min read)

Each day that you leave behind gets painted on the canvas of your memories. Every time you look back, the colors spread across it a little more to blanket the pain attached to it. Maybe that is the reason even the most painful memories fail to prick your heart after a considerable time has passed. But how do you deal with those memories that push you to question your own emotions and feelings around them again and again?

I was a teenager then – young and vivacious, oblivious of the complexities of life. Fairy tales still hadn’t started to seem unreal. Heart had still not beaten faster than its normal pace. And ‘emotion’ and ‘feeling’ were still just two weighty words found in the dictionary.

My favorite time of the day was that half an hour journey from school to home. I felt like a bird whose wings weren’t tied to those heavy books anymore. And they flew me away to someone whom I now wish I’d met differently – maybe in another life where our story would be written with no sadism.

He was a senior in school. I don’t know why he waited for me outside school everyday. We never talked. Sometimes he called me funny names, which would make me mad. Yet every time I smiled back like a sheep. Our way of communication was all about wordless talks and exchanging bashful glances. It sounds childlike, right? Aren’t the childhood romances always meant to be like this – sweet, funny, innocent and surreal? But ours was different. The surrealness of it soon got clouded by the harsh reality of existence – death.

I still remember the day I penned down a letter for him. My feelings and emotions finally found their way out into the world. But I didn’t mean to give it to him. I was just happy to have cracked the meaning of those weighty words. I went to school, eyes gleaming happily, hoping to see him in a couple of hours outside the gate. But instead what I heard made the ground beneath my feet slip away. He was no more.

I wish these memories had never left the confines of my childhood and crawled into the days of my adulthood. But that day, his name got etched on my heart in a way that no massive wave of love would ever be able to wipe away.15 years back I had named that feeling love. What do I call it now?


Written by Chirasree Bose

23 thoughts on “Maybe In Another Life (2 min read)

  1. 15years later, I’d call it *Regret* because of the so many *what ifs* that are left unanswered and the love never spoken. It’s called *Regret*.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Maybe you are right 🙂 matters a lot that you stopped by

      Liked by 1 person

      1. As always 😀 it’s always a pleasure to read your stories, you are really talented. Keep up with the great posts 👏👍😊

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you 😊

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I can relate to this post so much, it hurts. Great piece 😊

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Beautifully written! Your stories carry a whiff of familiarity. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much 😊

      Like

  4. 💕❤️ this is beautiful, yet painful in its own way… 💓💔 You have a quality of bringing out the emotions in a reader.. amazing yaar!!! It touched all my senses!! Hats off!! 🤗😊👌👌

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you 🙏

      Like

  5. I would continue to call it love. What else can that emotion be where the heart still longs for the warmth and remembrance of the other heart. Love makes one noble and human and that is noticed in the character of the story. Its true love else she would have moved on turning it over as just an another page in the book. Sad that the boy lost his dual life – his livable life and importantly his lovable life.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for leaving your feedback 😊

      Like

    1. Thank you 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Now it can be called crush 😂.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Just love your writing

    Liked by 2 people

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