Blue Tiffin-box

That was once rushed affair. That had always been one. Just back from her college, she had rummaged through her whole wardrobe for the want of better clothes to be shoved inside her bag. A spring in every step she had; a song in her heart. She had been packing her bags to go home that day. Going home at that time of the year had always been easy. She could easily manage sufficient leaves to afford enough time to rest at home and enjoy homecoming.

With clothes half folded in her hands, she went inside the kitchen to grab a bite. She opened her fridge and her eyes set on a blue Tiffin box. A deluge of emotions engulfed her and she was swept with memories from two years back, when around this time she had been leaving for her place. Only, she hadn’t been working then. She had been a student. She had been away from her home to pursue what at that time seemed most important to her. And in this most important endeavor of hers, she had struggled to ward off all possible distractions.

Nothing had changed since then. The slight drizzle, a heavy downpour, a soft breeze and a happy heart, all felt the same, even now.

A call from home brought her back to the present. She had been asked to leave early, lest she is hindered by inundated roads and a dead traffic. It had rained cats and dogs that day, stopping only for a while. The voracity of rain had always been overwhelming for her. And to her happiness, the still overcast sky brought with it a promise of more rain. The breeze wafted through the curtains. The mellifluous music blared through the room, stirring up emotions she knew so well ; bringing back memories which have always been priceless.


Memories they were, beautiful and refreshing. Unfading memories. Memories, which mirrored her with herself; which had become an indispensable part of her existence. Memories, in the wake of which, time elapsed only to archive beautiful recollections in the landscape of mind; in the wake of which, the infinite time coyly yielded to the mind; the mind, which had beheld those memories timelessly.

“The tide recedes, yet leaves behind bright seashells son the sand,

The sun goes down, but the gentle warmth still lingers on the land,

The music stops and yet it echoes on in sweet refrains,

For every joy that passes something beautiful remains”

The song and the ambience reminded her of her days as a student living in a clumsy colony with houses colossal and old, yet houses weathered and washed, over the years, by the heavy rain. Lined by contracting lanes and thatched environs was her dwelling. It reminded her of the monsoons when she had stood  perched on the railing of her balcony watching the water drops line  and fall off the edge of the Peeple tree that shrouded her window completely. It reminded her of the water logged lanes below and paper boats that she had made and sailed in her balcony. It took her to the hustle and bustle of students in and around her institute, wading through the waist level waters to attend blue tiffintheir classes; to  the temple nearby and the ringing of the bells every evening. It brought her back the days of the gentle breeze, of the cozy nights and the lazy mornings. It made her reminiscent of her hot pursuit; of the newspapers damp with rain water every morning. It reminded her of the hot mug of coffee she had sipped from; of the hot mug of coffee she had shared with him sitting inside that coffee shop. It reminded her  of the monsoons when he had left her to move to a place where he could fulfill his dreams, leaving behind his memories and that blue Tiffin box.


stutiproffileAbout the author : Stuti Dhyani or the one who finds the world in a grain of sand. To me, she has always been one friend to who I could talk my mind out and who’d patiently listen and would never judge. We met just once, when she lost a bowling game and since the last two years she must be secretly learning to bowl before we meet again. Jokes apart she is as beautiful as her words and you must find her words on her blog - A Grain of Sand.

She Wanted Him And Winter Back..

She realized she misses him the most in the winters. When they were together, they belonged to the cold waves; trees may have lost their leaves, winter winds would blow, but the warmth of love kept them happy. It was a time when they could leave early from their work and leave friends behind to meet and dream. Their time for stargazing. Their time. Of togetherness.

She felt broken and alone. In the warmth of a bonfire or the wind of a highway. She kept thinking: “He would have loved all this so much..” and got lost in the memories of walking through the lake side, throwing stones together and dangling their feet in the stars.

forgotten_fairytales_by_zemotion-dyrnfsA season of early sunrises and fast-moving clouds, of the late night walks and the frozen ice-cream cones. She thought December would last forever.

It's August. But back then, whenever  she reached home late, walking across the city in dark, he was always by her side. But he feels far away from her now, and listening to the music he like doesn't bring him any closer too. She misses the windy bus rides home and barefoot walking in the dust. She misses singing the poetry, he wrote for her. She miss serenity.

For the rest of their lives, wanderlust will carry them across the seven seas and memories will slip through their fingers like sand.

She was waiting to see him when the sun hits the horizon and this time, they'll walk across the water together.

Her hopes against hopelessness, her dreams against nightmares and her wishes against reality made her forget the he would never come back from heaven and back from that flight crash which separated them, forever.



Kiss by kiss, unbuttoned.

Touch by touch, unzipped.

Soul by soul, loved