One more entry into the journal of sophisms

There really is no loss. I went discovering this the reverse way. Like I discovered there really was no gain. It was pretty simple.

Curling around him in the car across every road that becomes lonely at night in Chennai. The eyes with a will of their own, close.

He's talking. From him I've learned how to answer at the right moment and the right things.

I was becoming better than him. He never realized where my attention was. Or wasn't.

But I'd never considered him fool. Half a ear caught his voiced words. He would have known otherwise. And I owed it to him.

When the voice stopped falling on the ear, it offended the pattern. I could almost feel him gathering back words that had carelessly left his lips.

He'd called me by her name.

Force of habit, I console myself. Or is it, the voice that always asks, asks.

My hands disentangle themselves from his body. I move away pressing my body to the window by the door.

I see hurt without reflection. I run every syllable of her name over my tongue. They taste bitter.

The car gets into a corner too. His apologetic body turns towards me.

I see a curious onlooker who peeps into our car. My mind yells at him. Go away. We aren't doing anything that will interest you. No tentative fingers at places of your interest.

My cell phone rings silently making a small unwarm glow in the dark. We both watch it.

We're boring. He walks away disappointed.

The words that we don't speak jostle each other trying to escape from the confines of the automobile.

I'm sorry.



I lower the window.

I forgive him. It doesn't mean a thing.

It makes me magnanimous. Maybe...
It makes him more human than he cares to accept. Maybe...