The Wrong Time

“Maybe it was all for good. Maybe it was never meant to be”

There has to be some reason though. He loved her, he couldn’t have ruined her. As he walked down the road, he heard a voice calling for him.
“Sid!” But he didn’t want to turn back, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able return back to his present. The past was calling for him.

Soon, the voice grew impatient, and ran towards him, knocking the walls down. “Hey! How have you been?” They talked long, about everything and about nothing. An unusual tension wrapped them. What were they thinking, it isn’t right to let it go on. They must stop, stop talking but who’ll stop first? That has always been the question. The question never answered, nothing ever stopped.

He tried to draw back. She wasn’t his anymore. But he couldn’t, she was holding him. Her hands weren’t, her eyes were. They were speaking, as though if they stopped talking, they would lose something very real. Suddenly, the phone rang. It was his girlfriend.


“I wish I hadn’t seen him, I wish I hadn’t ever known him.”

Even though she regretted knowing him, she couldn’t stop herself from calling his name when she saw him. How difficult can heart get sometimes, doing everything it shouldn’t do. But it was difficult, to see him and not talk to him. What else could she do when all her past was walking right across the street.

Good memories, they never leave you. They are so addictive that you can hardly resist tasting them again and again. What could she do if he was her only good memories. The long walks, endless talks, sarcastic comments, casual flirting, sense of understanding, blind trust and the falling in love.

Nothing was planned, but their going apart was. If she could ever erase something from her memory then it will be the day he told her to leave. Not directly, but she knew it, she had to go. So, she did.

Seeing him again was two feelings ; dying and living. By now, it was clear that he meant alot more, more than she thought. But she was helpless. She couldn’t tell him what she felt, she wouldn’t. How dangerous love can be for people who love at the wrong time. It could have been different, if she had realized it earlier. Now, love was not welocoming for her, it was dangerous, unfair.

He had clearly told her that they cannot talk anymore. It was something about his girlfriend.


The phone was ringing still. He had to cut it thrice. He picked up as soon as Tia left. He was on the phone with her girlfriend, but his senses had left him 5 mins ago. He kept on talking, unaware of what was being said.

It was her mistake, she never understood the simplest thing. Everything else she could guess but not the most obvious thing. He was in love with her, for the first time he had loved someone so much. Maybe love is a dangerous thing when it happens at the wrong time. He always felt she wasn’t ready for anything, and not for him at least. How beaitiful it could have been, to be with her, to see her, talk to her, love her, kiss her, hold her. How beautiful it would have been to be with his best friend.

His thoughts wandered to Tia, more than he wanted to. It seemed as if he was spell bound by her simple beauty and honest smile. And her eyes, the most beautiful he had ever seen. She isn’t like any girl he knows, she is different.

Suddenly he realized the call was long ago disconnected. He redialed the number. His girlfriend cut the call again and again. He was confused, he was too lost to understand what was happening. The phone beeped, a message  said “Go die with her!”

Love is the most mysterious thing in this world. You think you have lost it, forever, to the wrong person, or the wrong time. But it surprises you with the way it can show up when the hopes are nil. It shows up when the time isn’t right or wrong but insane. It shows up when there is no hopes of seeing it again.

He had spoken her name at the wrong time, to the wrong person.


2 thoughts on “The Wrong Time

  1. I am sharing my two pennies on this šŸ˜€

    Love is the most mysterious feeling, until you realise , love cultivates itself.

    Although it could be triggered by any “encounter” with any of the “face” or “feeling”, so from being a mystery , it becomes obvious.

    God damn !! Everywhere ,
    It just grows.
    Then you give up questioning, šŸ˜ž
    (Till how long one can blame the time ? Till you realise what Time is.? Maybe!)
    And start embracing, šŸ˜‡
    in every other corner , every other face , every equation of space & time.

    This goes for sometime….

    And then Love transcends to something else.


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