Feme Covert

Feme Covert

12:49 am:

A small dingy room with the only source of luminescence being a small table lamp, Faint Humming noises of the ceiling fan

Sullen silences, remembrance of a sweet someone. Thoughts of being in a parallel universe with a sense of content, tranquility. Hallucinations of all the life decisions ever made, an urge to change, to initiate another string of reflections, a blur of many familiar faces, memories of beautiful experiences, yet some of them tainted, painted in a way to forget the faces that left me astray. In the end, even our shadow abdicates us in the propinquity of darkness.

1:49 am:


His heart skipped a beat, after an hour of cerebration upon the unmitigated existence of this entire macrocosm. A sound could be heard, a reverberation,something like a melodious humming sound. It’s rather farcical how magnetized this frivolous vibration made him feel. He was jovial and apprehensive at the same time, and that’s when he relived his first stint on their transcendental yet revered peregrination.

1,38,240 hours ago.

In all the scruples of this world,
I want to write about her
In an infinity
Where I can find her

Before the spars
that tore us apart,
and none of us,
had a broken heart.

As soon as he finished expatiating on the last verse of his poem, his entire body trembling from the hysterical aphonia, a wave of saturninity hit him. Behind the coruscating lights of the stage pointed at him, he could see an audience of 800 people seated transfixed. For the first time in his life, Kiaan had mustered up the courage to take a step towards, introducing the world to his ardour for poetry, which was signing up for the prestigious National poetry competition organized by the poetry society and here he was standing on the stage as one of the finalists.

*clap* *clap* *clap*

It took him an instant to fathom the inception of the sound. Second row, fifth seat, a young lady, slender figure, in her early adolescent years. She was the first to stand up and clap. And the moment he shifted his gaze upon her, he was spellbound by the facile elegance. A moment later the entire auditorium erupted in a resounding applause. But, Kiaan’s mind was already gallivanting off too alternative galaxies. He had never felt such an endearment towards any personage ever. As soon as he thanked the crowd for their support and love, and got off the stage.

The first thought that crossed kiaan’s mind was to look out for that face, a face which would in the coming time, be associated with the title of, “better half”. He had already started thinking of number of ways to talk to her if he ever met her again, “Hello, my name is kiaan” or “Heyy” or “Hii, How did you enjoy the show today”. And as soon as he reached the exit gate, he saw a familiar face, sitting on the sofa in the waiting area. This was the first time their eyes met, Blue eyes, Kiaan’s, representing the ocean, Green eyes, Inaaya’s, representing land. The entire rendezvous lasted 7 minutes, in which they had already created their own globe, their own world.

“You were abs-olutely greatt today!”, Inaaya muttered out stuttering in nervousness to bring an end to the awkwardness of the past 420 seconds.

He fell, he could feel the ground moving away from under his feet. It was like he was falling down a never ending rabbit hole. All he could see was her dreamy, wavy hair and all he could hear was her canorous voice.

“thank you so much”, said Kiaan, after he regained his composure.

And then they started talking, they talked about anything and everything,as time transpired, both of them inspired each other, and their bond grew royally. A lifelong affiliation. As Kiaan and Inaaya become two leaves of the same branch, they both had found their consorts, for this lifetime, and the one after.

Kiaan, meaning, “gift of God”.

Inaaya, meaning, “gift of Allah”.


*You have 3 new messages from inaaya*

Dazed, from the flashback, as he was unlocking his phone, the only thought that was on his mind was, “All we need is someone to match our heartbeat,and their warmth to be felt in our bloodstream”.


Abhi Chitkara

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