QB Short Stories

The Symphonies of Rock Music

It was a usual day, the usual morning, the usual way to college, the usual lectures, the usual conversations and another person I met casually, just like any other.

I never knew a person like him but when I met him, there wasn’t anything special about it.
Just how you meet new people every now and then, I met him too. Just as we were singing songs, or rather, the people around me were singing songs, I joined in, casually again, for the song they had on their lips was one of those that made my heart sink into the music.
I was surprised at his look of surprise he had when there were a few more discovered, being the same melodies to both our hearts.
The music took control and we flew into the symphony. I can’t say how the further happenings were shaped, I still wonder about it every now and then but it’s the kind of mystery that leaves theories but never a proof to any one of them.
One thing I knew was that a new friend was made, just out of the blue, the way enchantments flow out of the music in our bones.
Time, we know is a slaughterhouse that doesn’t serve mercy to anyone of us, where we ourselves, play the butchers.
But sometimes, we escape it and henceforth reach the forest that makes us what we were meant to be.
Time kept passing and before we could both realise it, we were more than what they call best-friends.
Friendship, an asset, became a priceless diamond to me in no time.
Another beauty of our mother nature is that with passing moments, we grow as individuals. Our minds evolve, we gain intelligence, we improve and apparently, become mature.
One thing that isn’t beautiful about growing up is that more the number of years you add to your life, the less the number of true friends you get to keep with yourself. One time when the inverse proportionality and the theories serve less good and more pain.
We undermine the systems between which we spend our lives and then it becomes a whole new surprise package how the events change.
Slowly and gradually, we all started to understand how that was the only time we had. Just after the journey ends, the road diverges into many branches, but each one of them offers entries to only one. The path we choose might collide with another, it may not but we never know that if it would, which one would cross ours.
It was a meagre amount of probability that I’d cross paths with his. Just like any other thing that we knew was much out of our control, we knew that one day, all five of us would be in different places and so we created as many memories as we could, and by that I mean a lot.
Yet, he was an icing on the cake. Days would still be the same without him but more preferably with him.
Everything about us was so wonderful. The squad was no less than goal accomplishments. However, today as I look back at those moments, I still have no idea what will happen. The college is yet to bid us a farewell, the building and the terrace, the 7th floor and it’s crazy, the canteen that had all the criticism, the fire-escape that saw more of us than our classrooms, endless struggles and rescue plans, the auditorium we showed our best in, or the studies that would never be remembered apart from those textbooks are all still a part of us, and will always be.
But the question mark is still about the dilemma if we’ll be together or not, if we’ll still see each other every day or would it be the moon in the meadow that makes our eyes wait for ages for itself.
All we both shared for these 3 years was friendship, but the kind that could outline histories. All four of them are the gems that fit into the cut-outs to raise the worth of our craft.
But when it comes to losing a diamond, there are tears shed by the embedded marble that falls off with that diamond.
It’s a miserable look-out that one day, we will all be apart but it perplexes me to understand if keeping quiet about what my heart has in it, hurt me more or is it that none of us has the light to provide one another with the vision we have longed for.
It’s just like the music that plays itself regardless of the pain it bears and grabs everyone along with it to flow out of time.

Shubhrika Dogra

Shubhrika is an emotional person and portrays that in her words. She is a coffee lover and hence an intrigued writer. She loves to play with words and twist them as much as she can, that is her way of writing. But mostly, she loves creating suspense in her writing. She would never let the real story come out until the last part of her writings. Writing is her life and her heartbeat.
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