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The Part That Lived

Having just finished performing at the international music festival, a heavy hearted Karan found his way back to his room. The grip on his guitar was loosening and his heart beating fast. Flashes of her face is all that he could see. His eyes still held love for her. The one that left him 7 years back. His heartbeat, racing like a horse, knew nothing but the love for her. He had grown tired. People walking past were patting him, congratulating him for the stellar performance on stage. His dream had finally come true. He could now look up at the skies and tell the world beyond that he had moved on. As he walked into his room, placing his guitar on the table, he crashed into the bed. As the night grew older, the strings of his guitar told his story. The story of a young boy whose only mistake was the love he had. All the years they spent together snapped in one instant just like the strings of the guitar. How worn out it had become. The night was still young, reminiscent of all the sleepless nights he had spent for this one moment on stage. Playing till his fingers bled, singing till his voice grew hoarse, pain was something he was accustomed to.

Karan woke up next morning to the knocks on the door. His manager, Krishna, was at the door. That smile on his face said it all. Karan was finally a sensation. The kid with the broken heart was now fixing millions worldwide. The kid who yearned for the love of that one girl, now had millions of girls dying for him. He didn’t want a tryst with love again. His heart calming down, Karan asked the manager why he was here. Krishna sat him down and tried to explain to Karan, the feat he had just achieved. Hitting a 100 million views on youtube wasn’t a meager feat. Karan had got that shot at Bollywood. Directors were ready to give this new sensation a shot at handling the album score. Donning a smile on his face, he let a tear slip. All those sleepless nights, all those tears shed, all that pain had finally paid its price. He was to take the next flight back to India.

Krishna was a 27 year old who loved music. Further, he was Karan’s best friend. Karan’s story was not alien to him and to finally see Karan conquer his dreams was all that Krishna wished for. As he finished the drink, Krishna thought to himself about how Karan used to be. That mischievous kid on campus who had nothing but smiles to donate. Then Karina walked into his life. The most beautiful walk he knew. Karan could only watch himself fall for her. Their love was the sweetest of them all. Like kids they roamed and like adults they showered each other with care. His life seemed content. A part of him was now with her. More nights uncovered longer walks, deeper talks and the soulful touch of love. Mornings that used to be powered by caffeine was now kickstarted by her. A nerd she was and a fool, he. Their love was his world. It obliterated all the sorrow he ever had. He now had someone to go to.

Eternity drew closer and closer as the two spent many nights on their phones. Their smiles narrating a story of their own. Their tears being given a reason to be shed away. All that joy knew no bounds in the vast ocean that was time. That guitar that he had then was slowly fading away in his heart. The touch became musical. Music was all that rang in his mind. Yet, she was all he dedicated it to. Little pebbles turned into big rocks but that guitar stood upright on that stand. It was all there was to comfort him when words were thrown in either direction. They’d always get back, stronger and with greater meaning. An end to them was as far away as the beginning of time. He was lost in time. She was lost in her life.

The warmth of their love started freezing him. Her smile was all that kept him warm. Then came a day like no other. Started it off happily, they did. Words then became sharper. Then came a spear, aimed at his heart. She left, moist eyed but he wanted her to stay. As he held on to her, with a bruise in his heart, she decided that she’d vanish. Love turned bitter that day. Eternity had finally taken a finite value in her life. Promises were warped under the circumstances of pain. Not a second passed without her on his mind. Moving apart was never part of the plan, a plan forged under the moonlit sky. All that came down upon him as he tried to win her back. All those promises being unwritten as the moon gleamed in the dark sky. It was almost as if nature was reflecting his soul, and the moon was slowly dying out.

“ I don’t love you anymore. Now, don’t come behind me! “. Those were the last words no one deserved to hear, yet his tryst with love ended on that note. I guess he realized then, that love wasn’t like in the movies. It was cold and sharp, but it was about the cuts you were willing to take to be with the person you truly loved, even if it were just one sided. Needless to say, he had lost sleep. As he struggled everyday to reason with her and try to win her back, the thought of living apart was planted firm in her fertile mind. He had to open up to Krishna.

“ Dude, calm down! Listen to me, she left you here, high and dry. You’ve got to get your thoughts straight and start working on getting over her. Move on bro! “. Those words, those two words, “ move on “, something he was never prepared to here. That wasn’t going to change. People sat him down, told him what was rational and what wasn’t. Nobody was willing to listen to him for the love that he held for this woman. Everyone just considered it her mistake. She was doing it for her parents, and now it was his turn. It was a game of chess he never knew started. All her gifts, emails and notes were a poignant reminder of the passing time. Each second without her was burning through the little fuel he had remaining. Death seemed like the only option worth taking. The devil, elegantly dressed in black, watched upon at the kid who had a long way to go. With a grin, the devil whispered, “ Another day son, another day! “. This sympathy of the devil kept Karan going. Soon, he had to get back to college. He was battling an internal battle every day. He would weep to songs that made sense to him, as Krishna would sit nearby trying to figure out a way to get his friend back. Surely, he hadn’t lost himself.

He would see her walk to class, with spread hair, and sit down, firm as ever. She was the same old girl that he knew. “ She would still want me back, right? “ he would ask Krishna. Reminiscent of the times he had spent with her, he and Krishna would go on long walks around the campus. All those promises sealed under the night sky would flash before his eyes. Their meaning was erased in the books of time. He wept and wept until his heart could cry no more. And then he would weep again. A bottle made all the difference to him. The first.

The firsts are always special. Till now, it was the first kiss, the first walk under the moon, the first hug, and so on. This time though, his first glass of alcohol. As he gulped them down like a thirsty kid, he felt like he was escaping reality. For once, he would feel the dopamine rush through his nerves. “ Dude, that was the worst bad trip I have seen. He just went on and on about her. It was like someone had put his story in a for loop! “ they laughed about. Not one soul bothered to notice the pain leaving him as he was under the spell of liquor. He wasn’t an alcoholic, and definitely not someone who loved it. All it meant to him, was an escape from the harsh reality that he wasn’t willing to face. First the liquor, and then the smoke of weed. Lover to love failure transformation was finally complete. While she would socialize and go for dinner with her friends, he would sit in agony, trying to heal his bleeding heart. “ Heartaches are painful. You should never have to go through what I am going through. In fact, no one should! “ he would often tell Krishna. Krishna was in many ways his younger brother from another mother. You could say that he was one of the few who would stick with Karan, as the rest of the world carried on with their seemingly busy lives.

The nights that were earmarked for romance were now filled with the smell of liquor and weed. His guitar lay in silence, yearning for his fingers to tickle the strings. Rusty and shelved, Karan picked it up one day. He had caught notice of a guitar player who was in search of dedicated students, kids who would put their heart and soul into music. Anyone who had a peek into Karan’s soul knew it to be filled with the notes of a dream. Music always held a special place in his heart. Maybe this was his one shot at redemption. Without a second thought, he booked himself a seat at the widely coveted music program. As he stripped the guitar and dusted her, his fingers wanted to tell a story, a story of a kid who had discovered the meaning of love. All the darkness in the background was fading away, giving room for light, giving room for the vibrant colours that filled the soul of the mischievous kid he used to be. He was broken inside, a repair that could never be possible. Her touch was the answer, he knew it.

He would eagerly wait for the weekends, that half an hour with his sir that would wipe away all the pain in his life, and give him hope to move forward. He picked the guitar up with a new hope, the hope of fulfilling his young dream of making it big. The artist’s dream of reaching out to people through the sound of the strings. Days on an end were spent playing the guitar, as his fingers bled. The sweat and blood of toil, as he grew closer and closer to his dream. The slow recovery was on progress. Then his eyes would catch her and he’d slip back into depression. The need for weed would arise again. In the eyes of a rational person, it was wrong doing but what was rational? Is life rational? Let the kid decide for himself. He would walk on the road, lonely as the single star on the night sky laden with darkness. The songs of desperation and love ringing in his years, reminding him of the love that he was once a part of. Knowing that it was of the past hurt him more than anything else. There would be nights where he would lose his will to live, but that’s where he had his friends. Few but enough.

All those memories, those late night jams with Krishna, those tears shed, those late night loneliness, all played a huge role in moulding him to the man he would later turn to be. Years rolled by, he still hadn’t forgot her. She would grant her parents wishes, get a job, settle down and live the life of their dreams. He would look at the moon and picture the perfect day when she would return to his arms. The realization that it was a tale of fiction did sink in, but he now had his guitar. He managed to sneak out an electric, and was jamming his way to perfection. The truth that every person needs a mentor to succeed was personified in his story. Maybe the mentor played a role far more important that anyone else. Krishna was forever grateful, and he made a promise to never let that slip. Every night he felt like slipping into darkness, he would now see his sir, remember the drops of sweat that he shed, trying to shape a career in music. This was his weed. And now, he was truly addicted.

Not only was he fighting for the woman that he loved, he was now fighting to find a place in the society. “ Who accepts a musician these days, Krishna? “ he would ask. “ That’s where the beauty lies. It isn’t about the society’s acceptance. It’s about whether you have accepted yourself. If that’s true, just strum your way to glory, dude! “ Krishna would often tell. Karan slowly rose up the ranks, from being a college superstar to becoming a local hero. It wasn’t until years later, that his work was finally recognized.  He would go on to perform for various cultural events with his sidekick, Krishna. And all of a sudden, a major part of his life was filled with the touch of love, the sound of music. She was fading away from his heart, but never entirely. He knew that he would live long enough to tell her grandkids the tale of their love, maybe from a different perspective now.

“ Karan, I’ve news. There’s this international music festival coming up in Toronto. You’ve got to go. They loved your music. I think you’ve a chance of cracking this open “ his sir told him, delighted as ever. He would do the same. His guitar, the love of his life, the one that would never leave him, and him on a journey to glory. This was a story of 7 years, the 7 years of Karan’s life. But he finally made it.

“ And now for our next artist, give your hands up for Karan! “. The warmest welcome he got in years, to the cheers of the crowd as they stood their in support for their local talent. His performance was straight from his heart, the sea of emotions as their tides swept the audience of their feet. He then looked at them, hoping to find her in the crowd, and he did. Wiping her tears, she clapped for him. The guitar, tied around his neck, told a story that everyone in the audience felt that night. Forged under the moonlit sky was a bond, a bond with the one that stayed with him through thick and thin, the rusty, wooden guitar.

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