Blue Tiffin- box ( the 'him' version)


Click here for the 'her' version.

The first drop hit his face. He cursed and put out his cigarette. He had walked out to the balcony to have a quiet smoke. But the elements wouldn't even let him have that.

It hadn't been working out so well for him lately. Finally, after months of separation, he was with her. He had had enough of it and just boarded a flight to surprise her on her doorstep. It was supposed to have been perfect. He had thought that he would pick her up in his arms, as she stared at him with wide eyes, and before she could utter words to speak, he would kiss her. They would spend the weekend together, doing everything that they had been wanting to do for months. But when she was finally in his arms, he felt a hole somewhere deep in his heart. It started with little disagreements, little differences of opinion. And then it snowballed into bigger fights, and before he knew it, he was standing on the balcony, smoking alone.

It was raining harder now. She loved the rain but refused to come out and dance in it, arms outstretched, smiling with child-like glee. He just loitered around getting drenched, feeling vindictive pleasure at denying her this date with the rain gods. As a raindrop hit just below his eye and rolled down his cheek, he felt a little remorse. His pleasure turned sour immediately, and the cold rain made him shiver. He wanted to go inside and clear his head a little. Maybe have another smoke, that would help.

He went to the kitchen, giving her a clear path from her room to the balcony. He lit another cigarette and put some water on the boil for some coffee. Nothing like a steaming cup of Joe and a cigarette to enjoy the rainy weather, and to clear your mind. As he gazed around the kitchen aimlessly, his eyes caught a glimpse of bright blue. Behind some spice containers, he found it. He wiped the dust off the blue tiffin box and looked out of the window, the raindrops out of focus. But his mind wasn't really focusing on the rain, it had already walked off to a distant memory.

A flash of images came up in his head. Carefully measuring the flour, beating the batter to the exact right consistency, fretting around as the oven took it's time, carefully cutting and packing the pieces. He felt a rush of the wind in his hair as he recalled the mad dash on the scooter through the office traffic. He remembered the feeling of frustration at trying to locate the meeting spot. And the look of pure oblivious bliss as his parents blew their lid over his spontaneous expedition. He remembered the flimsy excuse he had invented for 'misplacing' the tiffin box...

blue tiffin
The boiling water brought his attention back to the present, but coffee was far from his mind. He put out his cigarette and walked to the balcony, where he knew he would find her. And there she was, with her back to him, looking upwards as the rain pelted her face. She turned to face him at the sound of him entering the balcony. She looked fresh, as beautiful as the day he had first saw her. Her big eyes held a look of pure joy, the rain had wiped away the heaviness in her heart. And when he wrapped his arms around her, she hugged him back fiercely.

And they stood on the balcony. As the heavens poured on them. And he looked up and smiled. There was no hole in his heart anymore.


Comments

Rahul Bhatia said…
This was a sweet post of the him version of the blue tiffin box, Stuti! It is good that the rains did unite them, finally:)
Jenny said…
This is such a sweet post. Rains and the box playing a crucial part there!
Nasnin Nasser said…
Beautiful writing and very good feel...enjoyed:)
AB said…
Thanks a lot for the kind comments, folks. :-)
Saru Singhal said…
This is written by someone else and as a reader you cam feel the way men and women behave in both the writing. Great writing and good to read the 'him' version of blue tiffin box.
KHOJ said…
beautiful...both versions
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Zeba said…
Here after so long but feels the same way as I always do. Beautifully happy. I love to read your words.

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