MAYHEM - 'A story of Affection and foreboding'.

A story between affection and foreboding about two people trying to figure out their ways In between a chasm with ravines. Ravines , made up of every possible human emotion.

Human Bonds can be very uncanny at times. Things left unsaid, the goodbyes leftovers, belongings that no more belongs to anyone, unforgettable moments. At peace ,

Yet surrounded in mayhem . Something completely unknown, pleasing yet terrifying. For the very first time you can't differentiate between right or wrong. That's when it all starts to pile up. Each word left unvoiced, gets added to this huge pile of something insinuate and in the fullness of time, things get start to decay. It feels as if everything is just slipping away . Helplessness is the only thing that comes into your mind.

Let's see what happens with Chayaa and Aarav , whether they pushes their limits to hold on a little more. Or they end things up. Or leave this beautiful bond at the verge of time.

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I and Aarav have known each other through Instagram from the past fourteen months. In this span of time, I've seen him fall, heard him cry, heard him laugh like some stupid lunatic freak, his drunk calls in which he can confess his love and affinity for me with such an ease without having to worry about the future. We just acclimatized to the warmth and affection which we nurtured for each other. Few and far between conversations turned to daily calls.

Soon we became each other's tranquilized escape. I'm that dream that dissolves when the sun comes up, but Aarav, Aarav is the reality like time. When you look at a stranger long enough, a restrained familiarity descends upon what was and what is. I think somewhere, we were the same way, two unsettled minds in an ocean of obscurity, moving with the current and somehow crashing into each other as if everything that had ever happened was leading up to nothing but this. Maybe that is how love makes us think - as the world conspires. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. We will never know. There are these words. And then there is this wait, one leading to the other, relentlessly.

Words fall from my scruffy hands being like something was broken inside, a leak that can't be named or fixed. When I saw Aarav for the first time sitting at the bus stop after ten years, a gradual familiarity descended upon me. I was always like this, in the center of a vortex of people, emails, calls, and every possible way of human communication. Always tranquil on the pinnacle of a drama, a problem, a conflict. It seemed to trapeze from one climax to another, from one spasm of anxiety to another, skipping always the peaceful region in between, the deserts, and the pauses. I watched over hands touch for a few seconds, his hands on my trembling skin and it burns, a lifetime of longing tapering to this flickering point and evaporates.

My consciousness betrays me. For once, my years forget what pain tastes like. Perhaps, he just ignores me or didn't notice. Like old times. He never used to notice people he was traveling with. Such a mild observation. For once, my years forget what pain tastes like. Aarav and I are a fever of all the things we buried inside ourselves, of lovers we hid from and gradually forgot. The bus halted at my destination and I contemplated him to leave with an abrupt pace, no matter how hard I try, he can't listen to me yearning him to stop.

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