Imagining reality (contd..)

Somehow the pillow couldn't cover those A4 sheets of sketches and with little effort and help from the fan, the sketches had come out of the force holding them and floated around the room on the floor and Omi was making no effort to hold them back - not even the masterpiece.

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"Masterpieces do  not always make it to the Louvre, most beautiful minds are found in lying in the graves so does most love stories. Why does it have to be a happy ending to every story...why does it have to be that the may the best man win, sometimes not, infact many a times it is the other way round ...." - penned Om while reflecting on the past year.

Rahul and Simi were officially going out together and it rarely mattered if Rahul was the heartthrob of the college and Omi was a witness to many other acquaitances with whom Rahul had a platonic relationship with. But it hardly mattered - isnt it ? Omi had seen many a love cards from Simi embracing the dust amongst other cards and he had often cleaned them and kept it on Rahul's table - afterall it was an expression of his Simi's love - so what if it had Rahul's name written all over it.

It was not that Omi didn't try to tell Simi about the acrobatic skills of Rahul. He still remembered his first and last conversation with Simi 

Simi: Yes Sir, you called me in the library ( Sir was a common way to address seniors)

Omi was again tongue tied to speak anything and while he could mustering courage and deviating himself from watching her flickering eyelashes and her inquisitive eyes, simi blasted at him 

Simi: Listen cheapo, Rahul has told me all about you, and you are nothing more than a lady ogling sick mind. and i didn't want to come, Rahul said i must go, so i am here (she had already told it to Rahul) and i know you are his so called brother but you have already hurt him a lot and i hate you looking at me all the time and just the way you are seeing me right now ...and she turned to go back

Omi: Listen Simi..... Rahul is not the right guy for you

Simi: Who the hell are you to tell me that ? and dont't ever get in touch with me again. I HATED you but now I hate you even more.

That was the time when Omi had failed in all the subjects in his architecture class and was officially a dropout from the best college in Delhi. 

The last 4 seasons had seen the downfall of the once so promising kid that it would make people believe that Omi had pshycological problem and he saw the pshyciatrist and was diagnosed with severe depression. Little did the doctor know, often zilted love and depression have the same symptoms. For hours, Omi would be lying on his bed looking at the ceiling obstructed by the view of the running blades of the fan. The medicines had calmed all his senses, including the beautiful ones and meaning of life was restricted to food, walk and sleep. It seemed he had no interest in anything else now. 

Off late, he had been writing logs of his thoughts just for himself. It had helped him more than the meds but the doctor would not agree. However, it was torturous for him to see Rahul playing with Simi. He did try to talk to Rahul once and it only did make matters worse. It was months they had talked even if as common courtesy. 

Mr Sharma was too busy being the director of archaelogical survey of India and in excavating the medieval past could not look at the blistering present. Not his fault though, he had given Omi as much as he could and Omi didn't share quite a lot with Dr. Sharma, Rahul was making him proud everyday with his results and bright shimmering career ahead. 

" I truly feel i don't belong here..........., Please do not look for me, I shall take care of myself" were his last words, when Omi packed his bags completing the letter. printed two copies and kept it on Rahul's bed and slipped it under Dr. Sharma's home office. 

Yes, they would feel bad including Rahul - but this is the best thing to do .. Omi thought, while he slid automatic door, opened the  front iron gate, looked one time at the modest government yellow house, which had been his abode for the last 8 years. 

"Adieu Om Sharma" - gestured Om with a salute on the name plate on the gate. Of course he did not know what next ...............