“Some things, once you’ve loved them, become yours forever.
And if you try to let them go, they only circle back and return to you. They
become a part of who you are.”- Credits- Kill Your Darlings.
They were almost dead, a bit war torn to be precise. Like a
shred of cloth caught between the crosshairs of a barbed wire at the border;
taking bullets from both sides all day long. Yet, somewhere there was a shred
of life still breathed entangled between the layers of fabric.
He was always attached to his special possessions little
gifts, car models, toys, those bubble gum trump cards. As he grew up he started
saving all the gifts he would receive, hold them close to his chest, make them
their friends, exist with them and exist in them. For these were the medals of
the love someone had shared with him sometime.
The last remaining existence of her love for him was not it
tatters. He loved to wear it, run his fingers along its contours, touching the
seam and being mesmerized by the love still locked in them. But this piece of
fabric, this camouflage print shorts were now at best a ragamuffin.
They had bought them together; the very same print, the very
same logo, the very same fabric; a pair of shorts for him and a skirt for her.
A testament to the oneness of the life they were leading for some time now. Of
course it had the highs and lows, but the highs were high enough to carry the
lows on their back. They shared a connection that was deep. As if something almost
angelic was holding them together for they were as different as chalk and
cheese.
The comfort he felt at having her by his side every waking
day was indescribable. He would always make sure that she slept well. He would
make sure that she rests her head on his arm to sleep and she would somehow
manage to align her posture to his. Like a new born aligns its body around its
mother’s chest. In the moonlight seeping through the curtains, the boundaries
of their naked bodies disappeared. Sometimes he would just lie in the bed with
her sleeping and think how lucky he was to have her beside him.
She was everything he wasn’t; smart, articulate, beautiful,
god loving, a little eccentric and immensely loving and caring. It was as if
she completed him in a way. And though he always did, he could never manage to
express how much she meant to him.
One fine day, she told him that she couldn’t find the skirt
anywhere. It must have been misplaced somewhere or probably stolen by her weird
flatmate. Together they tried to find it everywhere but no luck. Trying to
console her, he said it was no big deal, they’ll buy a new one, but deep down
he knew it was the beginning of the end. He knew it was futile to draw such
conclusions from a happening as small and inconsequential as this. But this
perhaps was his knack; he could always foresee how the material would influence
the existence of the living.
Days went by; life began to take unknown routes. She had to
leave the city to be with her mom. He joined another workplace. They remained
in touch. They remained in love. They tried to overcome the barriers posed by
distances and times. Sometimes they succeeded, sometimes they failed; all this
while he kept those shorts close to his heart. Washed them with great care,
wore them with great delight. For somewhere deep down, he knew that as long as
he can keep them well, their relationship will survive.
Life kept on plotting its vicious circles. They split, came
back and split again. 6 months or so later, she started seeing someone else. He
was jealous, almost hurt but he wished her well; he wished her all the love and
success. The shorts became dull from excessive washing, the fabric lost the
texture and sheen and a little tear appeared.
The pangs of loneliness and hurt were difficult to bear for
him. But he plodded on; never sure of what to say to her, whether to be
assertive or liberal. One day, chatting over WhatsApp they realised that it had
been over a year since they broke up. Hoping for a convenient reply he asked
her if anything had changed at all in this year. She said “yes, a lot”. He
said, “But I am still standing at the very same spot”. She replied “But maybe,
I’ve moved on”. Unsure of what to say, he said “Good Night, tc”. She said “gn,
see you” and he typed this dialogue from a famous movie and passed it as his
own “Far away from this land, between the right and the wrong, there is a huge
expanse of space, I’ll see you there one day. Do remember the date for this
rendezvous”.
The next morning, while putting his washed clothes to dry,
he noticed that the shorts were now torn at multiple places and had become
absolutely unfit to wear outside. He became distraught. He held them close to
his chest and cried. For him, this marked the end of the last string of hope he
was hanging by. The end of an era, the end of a life shared and a love felt.
Bringing himself back to his senses, he opened his laptop
and opened the 41st tab in his Chrome window and typed “Camouflage
shorts+buy online”. Enter.
