One Shot - Illusions

So I spent the last couple of days in bed, wallowing in self pity at being ill, waiting desperately for 3.00 pm to watch Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon, with ‘Sajni’ by Jal on constant repeat on my iPod. I assure you all I have not drowned in a pool of my own night sweat from having a temperature of 103 (gross I know), but I have developed a rather strange sense of abstractness and need of a philosophical hold on the world. I’m not sure when exactly it came into play. Whether it was on another headache encounter, or during one of my ‘finding the right temperature to sleep in’ escapades, I suddenly felt very lost.

It may probably be down to the fact that I spent almost 40 hours sleeping out of 50 hours lived, but I felt like I was looking down at the world, down at my life, watching its hoary clockwork gear along through countless components, spindle fibres working away at their own pace, starting and ending where they please, uncertainty in every existence, the unknown hidden away in each mote of dust.

It felt elating, hidden in my safe haven (my bed), staring up at the dark sky through my loft window from my pillow, watching the silvery moon track its way across the sky, dancing along with the countless sparkling stars, surprisingly vibrant for a bright London night. I walked through everything I felt as a child, from when I looked up to no one else other than my older sister as she ran across the road from our apartment window, waving to me on her first day of school, a memory I have managed to retain, to the latter part of my younger years staring into the mirror, wishing that my needle straight hair would horde a higher resemblance to the bushy mane belonging to Hermione Granger.

2 days at a few degrees above normal body temperature can evoke even the haziest memories. I remembered when I still believed in magic (a small part of me still does), when I read and reread all the fantasy books I could grab a hold of, thinking I could find a secret corner of the world where it all lived, where it all was real. Where the shooting stars and damp swamps, the forest fires and whirlwinds, and the whispering winds and ice comets all set your hearts ablaze with the most mesmerising displays of magic. I thought of all the grains of sand I watched running through my fingers, hoping that one of them would stay afloat, revealing the secret of what the world held away from those who didn’t believe it, because I had enough hope, surely the silent fairies would trust me with their gravest secret? I thought of all those moments, every single one of them, up until recently when I read a little saying that hit home.

Love can sometimes be magic, but even magic can sometimes...

Just be an illusion

It left me feeling a bit blank and dazed, but I realised, after a long moment pondering over my spent younger years, that some feelings never die, no matter how much you try to get rid of them, no matter how much you try to get them convulsed out or educated right out of your system. Some feelings never wither. They just are.

And with that rather long introduction, and slightly overbearing entry into my personal life, I thought I would I would write a short extract on ArHi of what I felt like in those moments staring out at the sky, 

running wild on my memory train...

The sea whistled a melancholy tune, calling out to the ruffling wind that swept past her ears, whispering the waves in them as they ran along. She smiled as she tucked a loose strand of her fawn hair behind her ear, taking in a deep breath, tasting the salt linger in the moist cool air.

The sun was out. It set alight every point in space, the image of her world enlightened before her. The sand under where she sat was damp from its previous encounters with the rising tide. She watched it, for what seemed like a lifetime, as each successive wave found its way higher and higher up the perfect shoreline she had painted. She scrunched up her feet against the sand where the waves from the gentle sea chased at her skin. She giggled, watching it retreat in its failed attempt, rejoining the many layers of liquid as it recoiled back to its home. She felt his warmth as he laughed along with her, felt his smile against her cheek as he tightened his arms that were wrapped around her, holding her closely in his arms.

It didn’t matter if the sea touched her, she knew he would always hold her, so she stretched her toes out towards the water, watching him stretch out his leg next to her, as the next wave hit them both with its surprised warmth. She thought the water would be colder than it was, but it wasn’t. It was perfect. Just like the eternally blue sky sprawled out towards the heavens, and the endless stretch of water running until the horizon painted with a tinge of orange. Just like the grains of sand below her skin that held on to eachother with such flawlessness, creating a ground of perfection that kept the memories of her past footsteps. Just like the feeling of being held in his arms, strong and safe. A haven of her own creation, as she stared out into something that she never would have imagined would be only hers.

He ran his fingers along her arm, the warmth of his touch lingering above her skin as he whispered her name over and over.

“Khushi...Khushi...Khushi” he breathed into her neck, rubbing his rough stubble against her neck as he buried his face into her skin, placing light kisses along her collarbone.

“You know that I love you right?” his soft voice spoke, echoing out against the waves.

She nodded against him as he raised his head and leaned it against hers, placing his cheek next to hers, watching her eyelashes flutter against the breeze. It sent a strand of flyaway hair against her jaw, and he quickly reached out for it, caressing her soft locks in his fingers, before tucking it away.

“Khushi? Can you please look at me Jaan?” he asked.

She turned slowly in her place, feeling the sand displace under her as another warm wave of salinity played at their feet, to face his warm almond eyes.

He played with her hair again, fixing all the rogue pieces that dared to mar her brilliance.

“You don’t ever forget that okay?” he ordered, as he looked back into her honey depths, a trace of remorse for all the things he may cause touching at his handsome features.

“You remember that” he said again, as he broke her eye lock with his, turning her gently around in his arms to rest her against him again “That no matter what happens, I love you”

She smiled hearing the words again, salinity tasting away at her buds with another deep breath. She closed her eyes to it all, to the immaculate sun and sky, to the brimming sea and sand, but she still felt his arms around her and she still knew it was all there.

She opened her eyes, smile faltering as soon as she did to find herself sprawled elegantly against the recliner in his room. She was still wearing the red and blue lehenga from the night before when he had married her, she was still wearing all her jewellery, she could still feel the stiff tracks of dried tears against her skin. His breathing from the bed in the centre of the room caught her attention, making her look towards the sleeping figure. The green fabric under her skin feeling like the damp sand she had left behind in a place she wanted to go back to, a place, that she would die to go back to.

That is what made it hurt the most, the feeling of knowing she would never be able to forget.

There it is! I hope I managed to evoke the same feelings in you that I felt! I can only hope you will leave likes and comments, and ignore any inconsistencies as I was pretty busy blowing my overly runny nose into a tissue (It just won’t stop running!).

Love you all, Hayley

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