Memories of Blue Dendrobiums

Ever bought flowers for someone? Someone whom you love and one who loves flowers? Not those occasional mandatory stuff. Bought flowers because you really felt like, bought it to give it to someone? Probably one of those few times, because everyone else you ever had in your life wasn't really fond of flowers, or you never had the courage to buy them flowers, ever...

Blue dendrobiums are not really blue. They are in fact purple. Since blue looks nice for almost all occasions (according to a florist's website!) the purple Bombay dendrobium is dyed with blue colour, so they can have a purplish blue tinge. Which in fact, looks kind of nice and fit for all occasion. All that is beautiful is fake, all that is romantic must be a short lived illusion. I bought them once and sent them to the one I thought would appreciate them.

Did I love her? Like hell I did!

Hell it was... definitely for me, partly for her too, or so I assumed. Met her on a cyber-trip in search of a stranger. You all know it, and if you're already a blogger like me, you must have had chat-room strangers, early social networking strangers and probably the more sophisticated kind by now. If you haven't, I pity you! So the chitchat grew into casual talks, text messages and phone calls, eventually we met. Our professional lives crossed path, so did our list of friends. We could've met earlier, as we found out later, but fate it seems, never runs out of the sense of irony!

Did she love me? She said so, "not in the way you love me.." she told me. She realised that rather late though. For me, the helpless romantic I am, it was almost insufferable. Met her when she was about to get married, after a long courtship. There was nothing wrong with their companionship. I met the guy, liked him a lot. But I certainly did not want her to get married, not to him. I've been the anti-marriage, anti-family kind of person for long. Age it seems, I felt like marrying her. The funny thing with experiences of life is you are never mature enough. Just the moment you think you've been there, done that, something absolutely new and mind boggling comes up. Life is what happens to you, when you're busy planning other things. Or so they say...

It could've happened that way. But I was never ready to let her go. So we kept in touch. I had definite reasons for it, and let me assure you they were never very innocent or moral. I still don't know why she did that. We went to trips together, fought. Didn't see each other for days. She once took 30 days to reply to one of my texts. She had her reasons, I guess. But then, all you can do is to assume things. As I once understood when I was a student, and later told my students of media, there is nothing called truth, there are only perceptions! I almost stand corrected now, there are only assumptions. We are taught to believe things, have faith. Then comes academics, teaches you to be a skeptic, teaches you to ask questions. And then, if you think like me, you'll discover, when you ask something, most of the time the answer dangles there, in between truth and lie, with a probability of inclining to any which way at any given instance of time. Truth is, therefore, whatever you wish to believe! In the beginning you are so startled to understand this, you almost refuse to succumb to it. But then slowly, it settles in. After a point, you happily believe whatever you wish to believe and continue your happily ever after.

Not a skeptic like me. One of the (dis)advantages of being a skeptic is you see so many versions of the same 'truth' from such vicinity that it feels too close for comfort. But let me keep the analyzing part at bay for a while. After quite a considerable amount of time in her marriage, she realised I wasn't as bad as I seemed in the beginning and I was in fact kind of a nice, harmless guy. I can be a good friend and the occasional shoulder to cry on, when things don't go according to plan. People around me, told me she's using me. I myself felt so on a few occasions. When she felt no one loves her, she asked me if I still love her. Asked me to reassure her that at least I still love her, if not anyone else. I did. But when I felt the same way, she told me it's not a good time, because she's disturbed. Never cared to ask, how I felt when she asked me for love then content, she went back to her man. O she was faithful to him, give and take a night or two...

Point is, I was willing to submit, willing to overlook such anomalies, such lack of respect. You're not supposed to expect things when you're in love. But then, you do expect things.. don't you? She took from me what she needed, because I was willing to give, fair enough. I said I didn't expect, she trusted me. Logical enough. On a logical plane, I can't blame her, nor do I wish to. So, when people told me she was using me, I said, may be I love to be used? But deep inside I knew, how I bled. Why I lost my sleep, why did I keep awake all night and cry, how I craved for her. Never in my life, someone hurt me this much. At times, I thought I'll end my life or her. But I knew that will never happen. I never had so much courage. I stayed out of touch for brief intervals of time, didn't help. I was the first one to help her when she was in trouble, almost all sorts. So, did she care for me? At times it felt she did.

I have a problem. I'm a believer in a skeptic's clothing. I almost believe everything someone tells me. I trust almost everyone and then I trust none. So when people told me she was using me, I trusted them. When she told me she wasn't I believed her. In this process continuous tensions from all sides, I lost too many things. Lost my valuable time for work, my concentration, my ability to think properly, my sleep, my energy, but most importantly I lost my ability to trust, anything and everything. Deep inside I eroded, silently, like a riverbed. My friends told me she was not the right one for me. Not that I didn't know. I always fall for women who are not "right" for me. Maybe this time I went too far. May be there are no right ones?

Towards the end of last decade, her marital problems scaled new heights. But then they subsided, probably for good. So she thinks at least. It was just a matter of time she joined her man in their new 'home'. But right before she did that, she managed to hurt me for one final time. She announced her departure rather dramatically. For once she made me fantacise she's coming back to my city, once and for all. But then I realised, rather painfully that she's not coming back, ever. It was the final goodbye. i still don't wish to blame her for anything she did or said to me.

May be her situations were such? May be she never loved me, may be she did? May be she wanted to, but couldn't? May be she actually used me? May be people are cruel enough to do so and forget? May be they are just helpless as I am? May be I was too desperate,selfish and insensitive to realise she couldn't have done anything else? Who knows? I felt happy about the good times spent together, I feel content with my little victories over the better man she was faithful to. I'm sorry that I almost ruined her apparently peaceful marriage. Sorry, that I stepped down from my disbelief in the marital institution for once and then found it almost impossible to get back to it. But as I bid her the final farewell, I realised I don't the answers to too many questions. I don't know for sure if blue dendrobiums can be kept on the tombstones of unnamed relations. Nonetheless, I'll offer one. I could have said adieu to her a long time ago, I didn't and as I recognise it's a late goodbye, I've learnt to let go...