The Train Wreck

"Darling," you said, "We're a train wreck."

"Sweetheart," I said, "Train wrecks always make the front page."

You smiled at me, a knowing look in your eyes; you knew, hadn't you, even as you had said those words, that I would have the perfect response. Simply because I always did.

And you, smiling in all your benignity, your eyes the most seductive pools of love, always know what to say to me to get those responses. For if I have the answers, then you, the perfect questions. And you call us a train wreck.

But in all fairness, we are indeed one. Just as a train wreck is sudden, explosive, even destructive, so is our love. In our thorn-littered path to the big, red heart, we broke many barriers, many bondages, many hearts (at times ours too). Our love emerged, unscathed, from the rubble of a destruction, yes, believe me. But in the end, my love, it was worth it; all of it. The Train Wreck was as valuable as train wrecks can get.

Now most train wrecks occur because of clumsiness, most always they are never planned. As synchronized though this little love story of ours may seem, ours was most certainly a fluke. Me, I had saved and protected my heart for an eternity, sure as I was that nobody, and nobody, would be able appease it. I was determined to never give it away and stubbornly ignored its desperate unorthodox pleas to be let out of its padlock. But it soon discovered, to its horrified despair, that I had never created the key: The cage of my ribs was missing that extra bone, for I was built out of, and for, none.

But then you came along, your heart on your sleeve, this robust-looking, red pulsating thing which winked at ten giggling hearts as it made its way swaggeringly toward mine. Of course, my heart was stiff, cold, with her nose in the air and her rosier side turned away from your overly-eager, hyper, tripping-at-each-step, laughing little fellow.

Your heart tried most about everything in its books to woo my little lady, who obstinately refused to even look at him. Yes, of course, she was desperately waiting to be freed but the savior was to be a strong, steady Dil**, not your Romeo! So she repudiated your heart again and again until he had to concede that Ms. Little Lady was not an easy one.

Ah, nah, boy, you ain't cut out for Toughies like these; best stick with Pinkies.

So your heart turned away, sad and disappointed and just a little bit humiliated (Who did my heart think she was, playing all hard to get?) when the train decided it was time and derailed itself, throwing both us and our hearts against the shattered glass door.

Oh, I remember, yes I do, how you had caught my hand as I had dangerously dangled out of the cart, my hair wresting wildly with the wind, our eyes clashing, mine scared, bold darkness and yours, merry, calm greenness. Somewhere within, something was shifting as your heart tumbled out of its positing and banged against your rib cage, subsequently dislodging the special rib. Your heart valiantly frisbeed it toward mine, which was almost out of my mouth, just barely clinging onto the slippery tongue. My heart thus caught hold of the rib and slowly, carefully inched her way back in me, using the rib as a guiding staff. She then slumped back in her position, inserting the key in the lock, thus now liberating herself forever (hopefully).

Meanwhile, the train in the real world was hurtling uncontrollably toward the unknown; the passengers clinging onto anything solid. You, my love, your eyes still synced onto mine (And credit must be given where credit is due: It was the eyes who suggested to your heart to throw the rib at my heart, thus saving--and delivering-- her), slowly and carefully reeled me in with one hand, the other steadily holding onto the bunk's rail.

I was petrified, my heart in my mouth and as I finally made it inside, my legs decided to play the Love Trick and so, tripped a little--hence making me fall straight toward you. You, I recall, caught me, your strong hands shielding my shoulders, your eyes and mine still playing the Love Game. Around us, the train rushed on, screaming, panicking, blowing steam of its broken heart's tears. None of it, oh none of it, mattered. It was just you and me alone in this universe and next, forever and always.

Yes, we were in the middle of the train wreck, and, I suspect, the cause of it too.

I cannot be sure whether it was an eternity afterwards or half an hour but the Clever Guys finally managed to calm the hysterical train down. It sulkily lurched to a stop, spitefully throwing both of us on the lower berth.

And making you kiss me, hence awakening me from my deep, 100-yrs slumber. My heart, well, it had already decided to move into yours and had coldly informed me that it was roomier there. Me, I was now complete, and as I ran my hand through your hair, I realized that yes, this is love. Love, that elusive truant that would never be caught when you so desperately want him but otherwise would not stop pestering you when you would rather concentrate on things more important. Yes, L-O-V-E.

It sends shivers down my spine, even now, for I can't believe I fell in love. Who would have thought, and that too in a mere night?

And yes, we did make the front page: Our private little kiss looked beautiful with the caption-- Lovers at Train Wreck: Blindness Much?

Yes, we are a train wreck indeed. Yet, I would rather live through the risk of losing my everything than the grief of attaining nothing, despite having all.

This Love's Year, do make sure you wish your heart a merry Valentine's for it is not going to remain there with you for long. So the least you can do for it enduring your realistic pessimism all these years is to treat it sweetly, a bit more carefully. Throw it not at everyone and none. Give it a chance, let it live. Maybe then the last words your heart throws at you as it departs wouldn't be that it whined away its life in a tower, as mine was so kind enough to inform me; and fear not, for hearts will soon be exchanged as your very own train wreck is just…around…the…CORNER!

Author's Note: ** Dil: Heart in Hindi. It sounds like a strong word, hehe.

This is a Valentine's Special! I was in the mood to write a random, romantic story as it had been ages since I wrote one and so…there…type-pity-type type. Haha. Ok, the quote used in the beginning is the inspiration behind this whole story; I have no idea where it is from so if you know then please do let me know. Ok apart from that, this is the story, you read it and now I hope that you will review.

I am eagerly waiting for your reviews, so please, start posting 'em.


Ginny. =D

PS: If you like this, do check out some of my other stuff. Thanks again. :)