The Lipstick-Stained Cup

Robin did not know how to react. Did Mira love him at all? Then why did she not object to the alliance? Object for what? What could she tell her folks? That she loved a guy, who had not even applied for work, and whose basic qualification was that he loves her? That she loved a guy, who himself had not thought of commitment and was scared to tell her not to leave? That his not giving a comfortable life to Mira, was not an issue for both, but that he didn’t even know the kind of life that he was offering her?

Mira had left. He did spot a tear stop halfway down her cheek, just when she was leaving. How he wanted to kiss it away? How he wished it was not a tear of pain and separation, but of joy?

Robin wanted to shriek and cry. Tears, teased him as usual, they did not show up. His throat was parched and his voice seemed to elude him. He gave one last look to the lip-stick stained cup of Mira. Brushed his fingers over the stain and left the shop.

It was pouring heavily. Robin walked in the rains. For the first time the rains seemed to hurt him. The raindrops seemed punishing and wind was lashing onto him. He seemed to shiver with the very thought of being left alone. Tomorrow was another cruel day. But the heavens was kind enough to hide Robin’s tears, which none saw – neither did Robin.

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