THE BLUE RIBBONS
WINTERS ON THE MOUNTAINS
THE CALL...
Walking through the streets of the chilly mountains, the blue ribbon heard her name being called out.
“Hey, stop I think I know you?”
She turned around to make out the voice from the maddening crowd.
“Hey, are you Blue?” She knew the name belonged to her, but who said it so loud and confident in questioning!
The red jacket’s face had a desire for a confirmed “yes”.
With hope, he asked again and the optimistic face glared into the ribbon’s eyes for the answer.
This time she saw the face, smiled and said, “Yes, but sir, I am sorry I don’t know you.”
“I don’t recognise you or recall. Have we met before?” The questions came interminable, till she realised she was pulled aside for a camera click.
The red jacket had a boyish smile on his face, when he realised he appreciated the answer, as desired.
After some breathing space she realised, she knew he was the person who was awaited in her town, but here.
This is his town!
How does destiny play tricks, the ribbon wondered!
They went aside to catch up on the introduction, not knowing there was a world passing by.
“You are here, and we were supposed to be together long before in the past,” he said. The grin on his face spoke volumes.
“You ought to have caught up with me,” said the blue ribbon.
“I could say the same,” the red jacket stood firm.
“Divine Intervention”, said the jacket.
The word ‘divine’ became the onset of the play with her heartstrings. She thanked God for His intervention. The words rumble in her ears even today, when she shivers of being called, pulled and held for a selfie click.
The town of their meet has its scenic beauty, embellished with cultural effects. The blue ribbon realised she had been on these roads almost more than two decades ago. How ironical she didn’t spot him then. “Wouldn’t have been around” her head grumbled.
The man had a smile that takes your heart away, (provided its not been conquered), the man who knows his way through your life, the man who doesn’t give up…He’s a patriot at heart and bashfully energetic.
He scours the foothills of his town, where the roads are his friends and the walkers his friendlies.
The red jacket was like a boy dancing on his toes, and the ribbon just wanted to wrap herself around him, maybe dance.
Some meetings are so mystical in nature that no questions achieve answers, but one doesn’t pursue them too. Work for the empty times!
They crossed over for a cup of coffee and some popcorn. Sitting by the road watching the world go by, the ribbon thought of saying grace and feeling gratitude on meeting the red jacket. She had been searching him for long, a lonely prayer answered on the roads already tread.
Smiling up at him, she said a few words, he answered, and words that were not decipherable. She wasn’t getting enough of her emotions inside her on a straight line. Her heartbeat was erratic and she knew it wasn’t long before, she would get pulled into the world of romance.
The blue ribbon loves the frequent visits to mountains, some specific, some new. Hopefully this too will not end up the same old way, she quietly prayed. With sureness they walked. He seemed confident, trustworthy and that took her heart away. They say it’s always the first impression, that sells your feelings but for her it was his authoritative nature, ever commanding, that let her fall for him, instant. There was no choice but to go for it.
Between them, they called it DIVINE INTERVENTION!
CHAPTER II
LOVE IS BLIND
Soul mates or friends they started to get to know each other. For a few months, all their discussions always rotated around everything 'Blue'. The skies, the beaches, the sea, the royal historical bloodlines and the marines. There was nothing red, and no red spot. To give her happiness, he started wearing blue. A combination of blue and white would get her weak in the knees.
The heavens, nature, mundane discussions became their companions. They could talk on anything. Could discuss everything.
The ribbon grew deep in her love, drowning every time he mentioned something out of the blue…marking a memory for keeps. The obvious red roses shared every morning with a greeting, marked the happiness for the day. She would dance, the dance of love that she felt inside her curls.
Days went by, not knowing how they scrolled through the days and the nights.
Love is blind, and the ribbon had turned her life upside down interwoven on the red jacket. Such is the essence of love.
She cared for his needs, non arguably anything. The ribbon adorned herself with his likes and dislikes. Anything that would keep him happy and attached. It didn't matter whether it was right or wrong. In love, the scales are not weighed. What pained him turned into a chapter of agony for the ribbon. The jacket's needs came gushing at her heart, knocking strong.
People approached him for his unpretentiousness nature, simple in mind, straight as an arrow for his service to the crowds in the act of charity. He continues to be a father to many.
She has a picture in her collection where he took a group of under-privileged kids aside, to educate them of what he knew!
A small crowd of kids roaming the streets, this man was busy imparting knowledge about tiny and big things, the little ways, which go a long way.
She remembers when he messaged her; there was a beam in his voice and smile. Something that fulfills the heart, like a small child trying to catch a butterfly.
When the locales honour him for his deeds, acknowledging his achievements, he enjoys the attention. He seeks attention with a certain force.
“There’s so much to do, and so much to secure”, he once echoed with a vibrancy, which reflected pain and pride.
Scream out his name…and you get a smile in the likes of Krishna, my friend.
chapter III
SEASONS COME, SEASONS GO
One day, a discussion brewed between them, which upset her.
The conversation meandered around the red jacket’s ongoing lifestyles, his likes and dislikes, things that the ribbon wouldn’t agree upon.
Their relationship went sour and sweet after a few months. When the ribbon received sentences like:
“I can’t keep talking to you the whole day”.
“You are irritating after sunsets, don’t talk much”.
“If you don’t agree, I am not going to be around”.
Like the waves that come gushing at the shores, beaten and tired to return to be sprays.
The special memories started losing charm, arguments continued, and moments of special days started waning.
The hustle bustle of the communication seemed like the setting sun. The ribbon felt she was being torn into tiny shreds. She screamed, her insides feeling the unraveling.
Every word was unmannerly and in quotes.
Feeling low and disoriented she took a tiny break from all communications.
The jacket was nowhere to be seen. Not a single word, no exchange in any communication.
Hurt, she called to remind him he was missing something and not responding.
Just a shrug and it was rubbed off.
Days continued on the same callous and cold pattern, without any behavioural change.
The ribbon shivered when the spring came: Was the season changing or was she just experiencing cold feet. She twisted and turned, loosened her folds, tightened her nerves, with gradually the knots coming undone.
Soon the realisation dawned, there were various other knots, and he had tied to his jacket.
He was shedding the layers, slowly and gradually.
One day she found the jacket on another shoulder and the ribbon came undone.
Set them free, she thought.
Tying her self to a tree and felt being blown by the winds, the ribbon waited, waited patiently. Spring took a turn for the summers.
She hoped the jacket would find his way back home, but it was carrying another arm inside. It tore the ribbon apart, but she stayed put. Love cannot go astray.
The weather took a drastic change and the jacket went to the dry cleaners. “The dust needs to go”, he said.
“But they are sweet memories of you and me”, cried the ribbon.
“Seasons come, seasons change”, I am the mountain’s child.
“Another change is expected, it’s natural to absorb all, and I can’t be restricted to one ribbon”, he bellowed.
The ribbon just came undone in one jerk. One bulge of his arms and the ribbon was in pieces on the floor.
The pieces were all over, shabby and scattered, frayed and ripped.
She flew to her hearth.
On the way she passed the dry cleaners, and heard a voice say, “There is a tiny blue silk piece in one inner pocket of the red jacket.”
“Throw it away, the man must have forgotten to clean his pockets, before giving at the counter. Its importance is not known”.
CHAPTER IV
THE GOODBYE LETTER
Wish you hadn’t called that day
My road wouldn’t be so difficult today
Where there was humour and joy
Seems we didn’t walk this way.
I recall how I surrendered to your smile
Promising to walk every mile.
My doctor says I will take time to heal
My heart isn’t ready to seal
What you call a virtual
I wish it had been mutual
I don’t blame you for calling that day
I blame the ONE
Who made us meet that day!
I know I will heal with time
Seeking help from the same DIVINE.
The difference in our feelings
We could not bridge
What you wanted I couldn’t give
What I desired to get
You couldn’t provide
But...
Friends forever
Was a promise made
Seems we couldn’t hold the fort
So had to break.
It hurts
It cuts through
I shared my world
Every moment with you.
Now you are a thought
For mine to keep
There are no more sunsets in your town
The red jacket man is gone
To the shadows of yesterday.
I wish you hadn’t called my name that day
They say…
Pain is inevitable
Suffering is optional
I will live that way
Till my God’s decide
How to give me away.
Again...
I am trying my friend
To live the way you are made
I tell you this
For I made a promise,
To be a friend that day...
To be a friend that day...
~ Rubaroo
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