As she sits by what she is coming to term as their, as in hers and Ila's spot, waiting for her, she reflects on the happenings of the previous night. She has been avoiding it all morning, submerging herself in household chores and catering to her remote job. Now though, as she waits, she finds she can no longer pull herself away from them. Sighing she gives in and lets her thoughts wander.

When the epiphany of why her mother had been brushing it off had hit, the instantaenous pang of fear had left her feeling unbalanced, bitter and to a certain extent, outraged! She had pushed them aside because that hadn't been the time to deal with them but now as she ponders over it, it is all she can do- feeling those emotions again.

Because how was it fair for her mother to now have second thoughts about relying on her after she has spent years moulding to the same? How was it fair to suddenly attempt to stop what has defined her sole purpose of feeling useful to her mother? How dare she, her mother, after she, Tara, has metamorphosed into this, a freelance sculpture chiselled now to defined but useful imperfection, suddenly try to discard what makes it all worth for the eyes to see? She can't fathom it stopping now, not after she has spent her life moulding to it, unwilling to part from it no matter how bad or unpleasant it got!

Her mother is not a monster. She is just a product of her circumstances and Tara will not be the one to judge or revile her for it. Not when she was birthed with the sole desire of her mother wanting someone who would be on her side! Tara has failed her mother in a lot of things but she will never fail her in this one! No matter what the cost, no matter what the consequence!

"Penny for your thoughts?" a voice that is becoming as familiar as the cadence of her own heart beats breaks her out of her turbulent thoughts. A genuine smile spreads on her face as Ila settles down beside her.

"Oh nothing much" she responds not wanting to elaborate. Ila stares at her for a beat before she nods in understanding.

"I was listening to some beautiful and romantic songs just before arriving here" Ila says with a childlike excitement, effectively changing the topic. Her excitement too contagious because it is coming from her, Tara consumes it and reciprocates, gravitating towards the joy it is sure to bring than lingering in the crevices replete with vestiges. Or rather, crevices with embers!

"So are we now going to transform into a pair of blushing teenage girls who gush over the idea of love and the songs that portray it? Especially because Bollywood has a way of selling the idea of love and romance exceptionally accurately." Tara says with a mimicked haughty expression, with an eye brow raised for the effect, like she had not been just reciprocating the same enthusiasm in her eyes not even a moment back!

Rolling her eyes, Ila says

"Oh come off of the high horse, your Highness! It is not sin to gush about love and romance!"

They giggle, so alike a pair of teenage girls, accurate to the remark Tara had just made and it makes them laugh more as they realize it at the same time. 

It makes them joyous. It makes them feel young again! At least, younger than they are now!

_

The game of antakshari they decided that instant to play with each other is in full swing. Both being huge Bollywood fans and having listened to a variety of songs spaced across different years of Hindi cinema, the competition is as good as it would have been had there been more people. This also leads to them ending on a draw, smugly even matched.

"Now that we have wrung our throats dry, what with how we sang all these songs, what do you propose we do?" Tara asks dryly. Ila chuckles in response and then takes a moment to ponder.

And then she asks

"Do you think the kind of love between the stars and the moon in the night sky is the same as the love between the setting sun and surface of the ocean?" 

For a moment Tara is speechless and then she says 

"Of course you would think it a good time for questions such as these!" 

Ila shrugs and says

"What better way to bond than listen to each other's perspectives on a variety of things? Everything makes sense if you have the perspective for it!"

"Well you're not wrong there! But give me a minute to reflect before I answer that!"

"Of course, take your time" Ila reassures.

"Both live and breathe in the same sky. Both are improbable yet inevitable, written in the same ink that writes love as a beautiful tragedy. The stars are at but some distance from the moon but the miles remain just as potent. Yet the devotion, that love, it lingers in the twinkle of the stars that the moon can do nothing but reflect because it, in itself, has no light on its own. It lingers quietly, subtly yet not so subtly at all. That kind of love is the existence of lovers in the same system but with these miles between them that can never be crossed yet with a devotion and certainity that remains unchanged. That kind of love, it screams I will love you even if I can never have you, even if there never will be a point where I can meet you, like a set of parallel lines. Against the palette of the night sky, they are fervent in love, yearning and declaration! The love between the setting sun and the surface of the ocean on the other hand, is one moment of reach towards surrender that is attempted every dusk but one that never reaches culmination. It is like coming so very close to your lover's waiting embrace but still being cursed to miss it. Yet it is a love that does not give up, does not falter because no matter how painful it is to come that close to one moment of surrender to touch, it can never be more painful than never reaching out again! The stars and the moon live in their yearning with an acceptance of that distance but the sun and the ocean, they try, they reach out, never capable of accepting anything other than the horizon where they seemingly meet because the ghost of a touch is enough to reach out again and again, even if that is all they will ever get! Both are love. Both are profound. Both are the possible in impossible, two entities who should never meet but are helpless against it! One is silent devotion and the other is unflinching belief towards reaching out!"

 At the end of her literal monologue, before she even has the chance to get embarrassed, Tara sees the awe and admiration in Ila's eyes and lets it be the assurance that it is. 

"Beautiful" Ila breathes out, in complete awe of the perfect answer to her question. It makes Tara's heart sing in joy, one word of compliment capturing her heart in rapture. Because it means so much more! It means an expression, in words, one done with passion and it means response to said expression, in the emotions of awe and admiration and in that one word - Beautiful. No one has ever called anything of hers beautiful. No one has ever asked her a question and received the response said with such passion, with such attention!

"Thank you" Tara says, her cheeks red with the brightness of her smile. 

To be seen is to be recognized. To be heard it to be acknowledged. To be seen, heard and valued is to be deemed human!

Tara feels it in the present moment and it is a beautiful thing indeed!

Love,
Pratyusha

WC: 1346 words