Fire.

She looked into his eyes, and pulsated love. He looked at her body, and sensed lust. Was it different perspectives or just a misunderstood truth?

She glowered at him, with fire in her eyes. Her dark locks beating against the wind, like snakes on Medusa's head. He said she needed him; she couldn't go on without him. He said she wouldn't survive, that she loved him too much. He said it with such confidence, such zeal. With a devious smile spread across his gorgeous face. He said it, expecting her to yield, expecting her to succumb. The look on his face sickened her.  Made her feel queasy, was she the reason this got so far? Was she the reason why this guy had the audacity to command her? Demand submission out of her?

She closed her stinging eyes, he won’t get to her. Not this time, the fire in her was too strong, too powerful. It had been one year, it had been enough. ‘Enough’, her head told her. ‘Please, Sandra, just walk away.’ She sighed, clenched her fists and opened her eyes to look at him. She loved him, oh she did. Such a waste of love it was, such a waste of emotions. He didn’t know what love meant, he didn’t know how to respect it. Her love had become her weakness, because of him, it had become a liability. A source for her disgrace, a toxin in her body and it was time, time to eradicate it. Time to heal, time to let go. Let go of the pain that had come to irrigate her life. A pain she had accepted as her life’s being. A pain she never thought she needed, but started wanting it just the same. It was time.

She inhaled a huge gulp of air, strengthened her resolve; channeled all the pain and rage she had felt in the past year, towards her eyes, and exhaled a “NO!”

Nothing, for almost two minutes, he said nothing at all. Like he didn’t understand her, for some reason he just couldn’t. Slowly, apprehension dawned on him. He blinked a few times and his expression turned to one of confusion. “What?” he said speculatively, “what did u just say?”

“No. I said NO.” Sandra said with animosity. “I will not come to you. It is over. This charade of a relationship is OVER!” with that, she grabbed her purse, turned around and started to walk away. Walk away from all the regret, all the hurt and all the pain she had felt, over the past year. Curiously, she felt empty. With every step, she felt the emptiness heightening. Fighting the ghastly urge to look back, she called out to an auto rickshaw and ran towards it. It stopped and waited for her to approach. As soon as she reached the rick, she asked the driver “Haus Khaus village”, all out of breath. The driver nodded, and she settled herself in. All this while, fighting the urge to call out to him, to look back, to cry. The rickshaw engine throttled a start, pushing the rick in motion; with every passing minute, increasing the distance between him and her. Gradually, she let herself unwind. Feel every emotion, she was free of now. Feel the void a broken heart brings in. Feel the pain of an almost lover. She felt, in those 30 minutes of the ride, she felt everything. Everything the past year had made her feel.

“Haus Khaus mei kaha jana hai madam? (where do you want to be dropped in haus khaus madam?)” The rickshaw driver asked, breaking her trail of thought. “huh? Oh haan, yaha hi parking lot pe chod do. ( Drop me here at the parking lot. )” Sandra replied, distracted. The rickshaw jerked to a halt, and Sandra stepped out. She opened her purse and paid her fare. Absent-minded, she zipped her purse and started walking towards the fort.

 Dazed and distant she slowly crossed the parking lot and continued further, all this while, reliving what happened with him. ‘It is over’ she kept reiterating in her head, as if scared that all of that was a dream. She would soon forget what had happened and call him back. With every step the yearning in her heart increased, making it difficult for her to breathe. Her resolve started shaking, her instincts rejecting her new found exemption. ‘No!’ kept resonating in her head. She walked faster, clutching her purse to her chest, as if her dear life depended on it. She walked, down the lane to the entrance of the fort. She opened the first door and crossed the small barren yard, making her way to the main entrance. Navigating her steps around the asymmetrical doors, she stepped into the fort area. Looking at the huge expanse in front of her and the tranquil beauty of the fort structure, she eased a little. She spotted the bench she always sat on, to clear her head. ‘Her spot’ he had labelled it. Making her way to the bench, she sat there. For a while, she only breathed, inhale and exhale, that is all she concentrated on. Counting her breaths always seemed to calm her down. Gradually, her breathing became more normal and she felt better, less tense. She elevated her eyes to look at the fort. So many people, wandering around; some holding hands, some sitting in groups while others walking by themselves. All of them, lost in their own worlds, own joys and own sorrows.

‘What if this was it? Will I ever love again?’ she found herself thinking. ‘Did I give up too fast? Will I ever get over him?’ doubt prickled her thoughts. ‘I love him, I can’t just walk away like this, maybe he’ll change. Maybe he will treat me better. What if he changes and I am not around? Not around to love him?’ she said to herself, in tears. She lowered her eyes to the ground and held on to the bench with all her might. She was angry, she was frustrated, and moreover, she was tired. ‘Why? What am I so scared of?’ she asked herself with indignation. She remembered her best friend Natasha telling her once, ‘Strength is not a talent, it is a choice. A way you choose to live. People are weak not because they can’t be strong, but because it is easier to be weak’. With this thought, she let go of the bench. She won’t give in, he may be her first love but he wouldn’t be the last. She needed to deserve better, she owed it to herself.

“Sandra?” she heard a familiar voice call out her name. She looked up, and there she was, Natasha. Her best friend, her pillar of support, and the freest spirited person she had ever come across. Natasha, who always hated her dating him, yet never failed to be there for her, Natasha, who loved her so much, who understood Sandra despite how different a person she herself was. Natasha who was so different from her, yet was exactly the same.

‘Have you been crying?’ Natasha asked, settling herself next to her. Sandra blinked at first, and then realized she had swollen eyes, a running nose and a very red pair of knuckles. “Yea, I walked out on Saurabh today. Told him that it was over”. Natasha’s eyes widened at this, “WOW! At last! God that guy was an asshole.” Natasha said scrunching her nose. Sandra smiled at her approval; Natasha’s dislike for him made her happier, her resolve stronger.

“Way to go girl! You were anyways too pretty for him!” Natasha said. She chuckled at this, for the first time all day, she felt a little better. “So now that you are single, we can be the two single adventurous girlfriends!” Natasha said, all animated and excited, “So there is this guy in my dance class....” Natasha went on, filling her up on her day’s events. Sandra just listened, feeling content.

 ‘It wasn’t the end of the world, this break up is definitely very difficult, but it isn’t impossible to get past. Especially not till she has this amazing a friendship’, she thought looking at Natasha. ‘Her love is out there somewhere, of course. She is a romantic, and Saurabh can’t take that away from her. But she wouldn’t wait around for it to happen anymore. She won’t wallow that she can’t find her own true love. No, she would move on, be happy with who she is. Get her to be her best possible self. Be as confident, graceful and amazing as Natasha; in her own way. Yet still believe in the concept of romance and of love. There is a guy out there, who will love her exactly the way she wants to be loved. Yes, and that guy isn’t him. He was a mistake, a course to make her stronger, better. That is it, nothing more and nothing less.’

Suddenly, her upper thigh felt a vibration, concluding her epiphany. It was her phone, she realized. She leaned back and pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket. ‘Saurabh calling’ flashed the screen. She looked at Natasha, who was still talking in her animated usual self and smiled. She looked back at her phone screen and tapped at the red button, ending the call.

“Saurabh Rejected” her phone screen notified her, and somehow she couldn’t help laughing a little, at the analogy of it.

Her fire, just got her redemption.