There was a sillage of everything that was broken within me, in that thick air which left touching me. I stood there observing the world below, it appeared so minute yet it has something in itself. This world is a dream land for many. A place where every heart dreams to achieve something. It's different that not all those dreams turn into fruitful reality but there was something in this city that tends to titivate each heart who runs to be here.
The weather was changing, just like a metonoia in me. I was drained this time maybe done with life. I did everything that could lead me out of the mess I created, but to no avail. I had this flair within me but it seems to vague at times. I wonder if I even do some reasonable talking with those screeds that right now lay scattered all over my terrace. They are discrete portions of my emotions, yet to summarize them all in one word the outer world named them as RUBBISH. The word started to stick toy mind and I am left with nothing but just a half lit piece of my occasional addiction and a few screeds adoring the floor.
I sat there observing the sky grow a shade darker. I sighed, my voyage to reach my dream was devastated by the strong ocean wind and here am I left blank with nothing that could bring me back. i walked closer to the balcony this time. The minute world below was still on a run. A chase goes on quite every moment we breath here. It feels like a place out of world. I was busy with it when there was a tap on my back and then the person called out my name,
"Ayush"
I turned to find Raj Mehta, the co-founder of Writers Hub, the first publisher to reject my trash. He passed a warm smile at me whíle I took a moment to find some words to know about his reasons to visit me. At this time mostly I am left all alone struggling with the inner me who doesn't fails to put me down
"I wanted to have a talk with you, do you have a moment to spare?" His voice sounded cheerful.
"Yeah"
Within the next few minutes we were seated over the couch in my drawing room. He took a comfortable posture while I served him with a drink, wondering what he will serve me with in return.
"So.."
"So why did you show up all of a sudden?" I asked intently as my gaze stood over his face which looked insipid like always. I remember how we ended up in a illogical fight with our argument over a girl. I tell you girls are the most dangerous species when it comes to a fight between two males.
"Hm...I will be precise now. Ayush I want one of your screed for the short story fest which will be converted to a short film later on" he said looking away .
There was something that wasn't right and my deep gut feeling knew it quite well.
"What? Why will you need a script from a loser like me?" I said with much jocund dinstinct in my tone. At least I thought so.
"I know it was wrong of me tó reject you at the first place and coming back this way but"
His intonations were creepy this time. He walked towards the window. Placing his hands in his pocket he spoke up
"Your work has that zeal, that passion, something we have been searching for a long time. Also you wanted to publish them right" he said facing me.
"How much do you pay for it?" I asked coming straight to the point.
He fell silent for sometime and then, continued.
"Ayush, listen to me carefully. Its true we will pay you well for it but.." he stopped.
"But?" I interrogated.
"Sorry to say but you won't be acknowledged for it."
There he goes dropping off the bomb over me,but unlike Hiroshima and Nagasaki I wasn't destroyed instead I will destroy him this time.
"So you mean you pay me well not for the script but to make me silent because I won't be acknowledged, but you have someone else whom you want to make famous?" I asked iñfuriated with whatever things he was blabbering.
"Try to understand Ayush. It's important for my wife Megha. She has been writing quite a lot to get published on this but she is lacking ín potential and gets rejected everytime. She is depressed Ayush I want her to be lively again" he said.
"I am not selling it for someone to live. This is something that carved out of my own emotions. They are echt and deeper than you can even understand." I rebuked.
He was making no sense in it.
"I know but"
"Please leave"
With it I turned away. He stopped there for a few more moments while I heard him leave the room with the thud of the door closing behind him. I sighed as I remembered how those papers were still lying all over the terrace floor. I rushed upstairs this time while a soft zephyr made them crawl away with it. I recollected them this time and with a feeling of love deep in my heart I held them closer to me. They weren't just some papers which got their meanings with my writings. They are not just screeds of my emotions or feelings. They are something which knows all of me, yet they won't let it out to anyone. They are something which will forever hold my secrets. They are made out from my emotions melted down and attached together with some agglomeration of words. There was never a chance to sell them out.
"It was okay not to have any money out of them
But letting them to be someone's else property?
Even the thought made me joggle.
I can never have a jilt from my words
That I adored with all those emotions poured down as words"