Of Black Coffee, Guitar and Our Love…. Part – 3 (Last part)


Dear Diary,
Aches in the head are bad,
Sprains in the neck are worse,
Injuries to the bones hurt the most,
Paper cuts pierce like swords,
But, darling! Nothing can match the pain of a heartache,
a tortured heart, a bruised soul ~


He knew that he has loved only one person with so much purity that he completely denied his own being, it was her. And he suddenly knew that if he died, she would die too. Maybe not immediately, maybe not with the same blinding rush of pain, but it would happen. You couldn’t live for very long without a heart. The illness was lethal, he couldn’t stay, wait to love her more. He never told her as it’d kill her. Just moved apart. But he knew it, it’ll hurt more than being dead. Of course, suddenly stopping talking with someone you’d hear more than your voice is always difficult, no? Intentionally creating walls where the souls are interwoven is always like cutting your limb because you don’t like it anymore. He knew, he’d never live in peace but you do hurt a little to save the dear ones from the massive pain, don’t you? He wanted her, he needed her, she has been the reason behind the every laughter he cherished and every prose he wrote. She is his Goddess. Who’ll know how to uplift him from the depths of agony and celebrate the little smiles along him. Who seemed to have born to hold onto something, which was slipping off his fingers now. He asked for his life in temples and churches, and in the mosques and prayers hall. He begged the Lord at every corner, in every hour, at every edge. Just to stay with her for long. But it couldn’t happen, of course, few stories are just left in the middle such that they pierce your souls and shower heartaches over your fragile being… He wanted to gather up all the ink in the universe and write in immortal words to her, the way he loved him – every moment, every season, every time.


He would have died by now, but she never got to know about it. The unlimited texts and calls, mails and messages, nothing could console her anxious soul. She was in the consistent lingering pain of waiting. ” I have a remarkable memory, I remember everything about you. I’d remember this indifference which has gutted me to the bone.” After not getting to hear from him though being trying for the 100th time, she threw her phone on the floor and cried herself to sleep.


The death day!
To the love of my life,
“Things are never as they seem. A person. A Mark. A statement. They are always deeper than we perceive, like walking in the ocean and suddenly dipping under the surface because the bottom has disappeared beneath your feet. The water appears shallow until you are suddenly flailing around beneath the surface, desperately searching for stable ground once again. I have lived you in every breathe and called out your name in every voice. From the laughter at the bus stand, to the silent gazes in the library, I’ve grown up with you and your love. I have loved you more than ever after sipping the last drop out of my coffee cup and finishing every novel along the river’s side. I have seen your face in the setting sunsets and lived your smiles in the morning rays like hopeful fumes. I have felt you along the strings of guitar and every single star. I don’t know any other way of loving you but this. I have loved you with a wretched heart and a torn soul. Moving away from you cost me ripping out my own lungs and putting my heart on my sleeves where it got brutally injured. I loved you even in the last breath I will be going to take soon. I lost my self in your love, in your vibe, in your presence, in your touch. I knew from the very first day I saw you, that I’ll live for you and die with your name as well. It’s About loving you. When you love someone so much. And when we have a argument. I felt like leaving you for good. And you decided not to leave because you love me so much. And way later we say sorry to each other and forget the argument we just had. And we could be happy, say I love you and I’m sorry that we have a argument we just had! And it’s hard to let you go! And you wish that you could have one another back. I love you. I love your smile, your snarl, your grin, your face when you’re sleeping. I love your hair streaming out behind you as we fly, with the sunlight making it shine. I love seeing your smiles spreading out. I love your eyes, whether they’re cold or calculating or suspicious or laughing or warm, like when you look at me. I love how you move your hands while you talk as if you are explaining it to a little kid like a kind mentor, I love how your presence gives me hope, the mere thought of your being. I’d go and you’ll think you’re lost but you’re not lost on your own. You’re not alone. I will stand by you, I will help you through when you’ve done all you can do. If you can’t cope, I will dry your eyes I will fight your fight, I will hold you tight and I wont let go I know I’ll write you a letter which will start from I love you and end at I love you, and there would be a heartbreaking good bye but I just wanted you to know that I have loved you all my life, and I will love you for decades more. May be with a dead heart but a living soul. All you wanted was my existence, I couldn’t get you that. I am sorry… I will die soon…”


She couldn’t even complete it fully when her hands started trembling badly. She burst into tears. It felt like someone punched her heart forcefully and stabbed at her back so brutally that her rib cage crushed. She felt like someone has dug a deep pit and put her into it, suffocating her to death. She couldn’t move her limbs. Her lips turned blue, face pale and she suddenly screamed with quivered lips.

Dear Diary,
I know I’ll probably die tonight. It has been 3 months ever since he left me alone in this world and I am mere breathing. I’ve not felt a single heart beat and sensed a single touch. I wanted only one thing in this life and it was his presence. I know what love is. When you find the person you are supposed to love, bells ring and fireworks go off in your head and you can’t find the words to speak and you think about him all the time. When you find the person you are supposed to love, you will know by staring deeply into their eyes. I have loved him in despair and dismay and all the lively happy hours. From the nostalgic sunsets to the passing by trains, from the rushing waters to the green meadows, from the early mornings to the late nights – not a single moment when I didn’t feel his presence. Remembered him. I loved him with the first sip of my coffee and the last splash of my paint brush. I loved him in the most silent and unique ways where my own soul wouldn’t be aware of what I’d do. I loved him not only for what he was, but for what I was when I used to be with him. I loved him not only for what he made of himself, but for what he made of me. I loved him for the part of me that he brought out. I have been living with a constant heart ache..

Her lips quivered and her heavy heart felt like being ripped apart into two pieces. She was crying and continuously playing his favorite tunes on his very own guitar. For a while, she stopped and poured the hot black coffee inside her torn soul but then again the agony of pain rushed with a new flow in her veins. Around were all those letters they wrote to each other, the snaps, presents and huge fumes of nostalgia. She was crying, trembling, dying at the same moment. The moments she spent with him were passing in front of her eyes like a movie reel, taking a long her every heart beat.

Somewhere between the torture and the fantasy of his presence with the heart wrenching tunes, she slept herself to death after living a meaningful smile given for his picture in front of her eyes and murmuring his last words to own self, ” I love you more than I love my guitar. It pierces my fingers, cuts my skin, rip opens my flesh. Still I keep on playing it. See, that’s how I love you. Intensely. Painfully. I love you more than I love my black coffee. It calms my soul. Soothes my nerves. But it never denies to accompany me. I love you silently. Dangerously. Deeply.”

And that’s what happens to true love, faithful hearts, devoted souls.. They turn into unfinished stories.. The stories which hurt. unfinished stories


8 thoughts on “Of Black Coffee, Guitar and Our Love…. Part – 3 (Last part)

  1. I cried my eyes out, so much, you’ve no idea. It is such a painful end. Oh God, I can’t even breath. Why did you do this! It is so beautiful I can not even begin to tell. Please write such an episodic thing again. I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOUR WORDS, I SWEAR!

  2. Hira, this was a punch into my heart. You made me cry like maniacs. Like retards. I cried oceans. You’ve no idea. This happened in real life to someone I know, ages ago, but the guy died in a road accident, everything just flashed again in front of my eyes. You are a Goddess of words. I repeat, you’re a wizard. I have not seen someone so talented and adept at such a young age. Your writings, poetry, the way you carry yourself at social platform, your personality, I LOVE YOU. YOU ARE MY INSPIRATION, I WANT TO BE LIKE YOU. I’M NOT PRAISING YOU FOR THE SAKE OF APPRECIATION ONLY, I MEAN IT. You are the most wonderful person alive.

  3. Woo This was…. HUGE and … PAINFUL…..and Excellently written down …. Emotions are flowing out of it and the words could make anyone cry. Seems to me like my story….Same empty handed end …..unfinished story ! Love it.

  4. “She couldn’t even complete it fully when her hands started trembling badly. She burst into tears. It felt like someone punched her heart forcefully and stabbed at her back so brutally that her rib cage crushed. She felt like someone has dug a deep pit and put her into it, suffocating her to death. She couldn’t move her limbs. He lips turned blue, face pale and she suddenly screamed with quivered lips.”

  5. its not a blog? if you are calling this piece a story i feel sorry, its a riddle words riddle, from the start till the end you can’t get out of the words, extraordinary, infrequent, noteworthy read,
    very nicely written you literally took me in to their lives , its really nice how you scripted it all ,
    “I loved him with the first sip of my coffee and the last splash of my paint brush” you nailed it

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