Stories

It had been too long a day. She unlocked the door, fully prepared to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. As she entered, she looked around the room and was surprised to find it entirely dark.

“What do you think is the most remarkable part of our story?”, a voice said. “Story? What story? And for God’s sake, why are all the lights turned off?”, she did not quite understand what he had been up to. “Forget the lights, and sit with me for a while.”, he beckoned. Curious, she walked over to the couch and cushioned herself in the corner. “What is this story you are talking about?”, she enquired.

“Okay, tell me this – when you think of someone, what is the first thought that crosses your mind? That maybe they are tall, plumpy, have brown eyes, or something along those lines?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What about when I ask you what you think of them as a person?”

“Um, you would have to be more specific.”

“Alright, what do you think of our neighbor?”

“Oh, Keshav! He is so sweet. Remember how he put in all his time to make sure that stray puppy found a nice home?”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, what?”, she was confused.

“That is Keshav’s story. That would be the most remarkable part of his story for you – what tells you who he is as a person. So have you ever wondered, what your story is? What would someone recall as soon as they think of you?”

“Well, not until now. This is interesting.”

“Isn’t it? My theory is that we all have our string of stories, and each person we meet in our life only knows a small subset of these. Each one has a highlight reel – with the stories that stand out to them. It is only us that will ever know it as a whole – with all its flaws and its highs. I think it is up to us to choose what kind of a story we tell, whether we want to be the person that ‘spent all his time finding a puppy its home’ or the person that ‘never has a good thing to say about anyone’. ”

“I never thought of it that way before. Although, I have an incident for you. A few days ago, I met someone from college and he said, ‘Hey! Aren’t you the one that stopped professor Ram from entering the class on your last day to stall for the surprise your class had for him?’. I was caught off-guard because I had never met him before, and he continues to say, ‘I’m his student and he has a lot of stories about your class. Nice to meet you!’. If you think about it, we don’t even really know who our stories touch, neither do we get to pick which part of our stories they see.”

“That’s true. Our story ripples through the people we interact with and then through their circle until it finds its end. It is also possible that the story in the end is completely distant from what it was at the start.
Hey, I have another question for you. What about the future of our stories – how do you think they would turn out?”

“I would say if we are lucky, it would turn out exactly like our dreams.”

“Ah, spoken like a true poet.”, he said and the room stood perfectly still. They sat in silence, as if to absorb the weight of the conversation.

Once he noticed the clock ticking, he said, “Time to head to bed!”. With that, he pushed himself off the couch. Just as he turned to leave the room, he heard her say, “The most remarkable part of our story – I would have said our wedding day, but maybe it is nights like these.”
She saw the hint of a smile creep on his lips as the dim street light touched his face ever so slightly.

“We’re all stories in the end. Let’s make it a good one, shall we?”