This room is really known to only you and me….

(This story was written as part of a time bound challenge at a Writer’s Workshop. There were 17 famous opening lines from popular novels on the table, but we weren’t told which ones. We had to choose one line and build a story based on our personal interpretation – all in under 10 minutes! So here’s my interpretation)

Do you remember when we first met 15 years ago in this same room? There must have been at least 100+ people at that party. But when I saw you across the room it felt as if there were just the two of us. The collective din of that room died down as fast as the world around me evaporated. It was a dilemma for me whether to appreciate your demeanour in that beautiful red cocktail dress or to focus on your flowing locks gyrating in sync with your sensuous but coy laughter.

Up until then I had never believed in love at first sight. Even on that evening, I was staunchly following my mind’s cue and trying not to fall for you. But I guess in such scenarios, my heart always has the final say.

It’s a crazy little thing called love. Do you remember how we visited this room with religious fervour almost every month? As if the spirit of the room had possessed us in some way! My best friend laughed his guts out when I told him that I planned my first date here with you. My father thought I had gone crazy when I told him I want to get married to you here. But I was like a man on a mission.

Somehow this room provided certain warmth to me matched only by a mother’s comforting hug. Its colours resonated with the state of my mind. The sense of space here made me feel liberated – much the same way how I felt being in love with you.

And then, the proverbial ‘life’ as we know it, happened.

Only this time, I did keep my promise to you. I know you would have never expected it, knowing my goldfish like memory and what we went through in life. But I did come back to you, with you. On all our special dates – just as we jointly agreed.

I could have continued blabbering forever, had my throat not choked. My moist eyes were now swelled up and tears were freely rolling down my face like a roller coaster in an amusement park.

It was one of our special days – birthday or anniversary – I really cannot remember now. Like I said, I had become increasingly distracted and absent minded. But what I did remember, each and every day after we parted was to revisit this room. Somehow it was my only remaining way to reconnect with our past.

Just as I started drifting off into eternity, my little daughter interrupted me “Papa, can we leave now or do you want to talk to Mom’s photo for some more time?”