The story untold

It takes a lot of guts to tell a story. Being old won’t stop me from that—after all, it’s just a story.

When Uncle Abraham spoke, I could see tears running down his cheeks.

I asked him, “Have you ever regretted anything in life?”

“Beta,” he said, “either someone is lying, or they’re a fool if they claim to have lived life without regrets.”

When I was young, I never understood what regret really meant. But now, I know how heavy it can feel. A proper goodbye can soften it, ease the sting a little. But you don’t always get to choose who you say goodbye to—you just assume they’ll be there forever.

With his shivering hands, he lit up a cigarette. He was so particular about it; he always rolled his own.

The Macallan splashed over the ice, and with a sip of that, he began his story.

Maybe you could call it a story of regrets—but I like to think of it as a story of experience. Because those regrets, those moments, shaped the man he is today.

Oh! I forgot to introduce us. I’m Sangeeta—of course, a confused young woman who knows nothing about life or relationships.

And Abraham? He’s my dad’s friend. Never married. The most eligible bachelor I’ve ever met—in his early sixties. An author, a poet, and, as my dad says, a retired Casanova of his time. He loves the golden leaf, sherry oak, and dogs. A killer combination, right?

With a heavy sigh, Abraham began his story—the story of the four women who shaped his life.

“Back when I was just a schoolboy,” he said, “when the colors of life seemed brighter, my father got transferred to Kerala. Like every teenage boy, I was reluctant to leave the city behind and move to a quiet, unfamiliar town. I didn’t know then that this little corner of God’s Own Country would give me my first taste of love.”

Abraham and Revathy were classmates.

“She was elegant,” he said, his face lighting up with a quiet smile. “The kind of elegance that made you sit up a little straighter when she entered the room.”

Their friendship grew, and somewhere along the way, so did his feelings.

“We used to play this silly game—FLAMES,” he chuckled. “You know, where you find out what kind of relationship two people will have? I used to spell my name in such a way that we’d always end up with either ‘Love’ or ‘Marriage.’”

One day, after handing her his notes, Revathy noticed. She saw it in the way he wrote her name, the little hints he left behind.

“It was a Wednesday evening when my phone rang. She asked, ‘Are you in love with me?’”

He looked over at me, eyes soft with memory.

“Sangeeta, have you ever been to Kerala? It’s the best place to fall in love. The humidity wraps around you like an embrace, and even the trees seem to hum a tune of longing.”

After a pause, he whispered his reply from that day:

“Madly. Blindly.”

He waited a few days for her answer. And then, just like that, he had his first love.

“It felt like the first rays of the sun—warm and beautiful,” he said. “In those two years, I discovered how gentle I could be. I learned to admire the smallest things, to cherish moments I never thought would mean so much.”

But love has its shadows too.

“I started getting possessive,” he admitted. “And when those two years ended, and she walked out of my life, I shattered. Cried like a child. I thought it was the end. I didn’t know that more angels were yet to come.”

Slowly he stood from his chair walked towards the table where rolled his another cigarette. It was raining outside,Sangeetha asked “ uncle have you been in touch with Revathy now ?”

There was an unpleasant silence. He turned back at Sangeeta and continued with his story.

I grew up , I never wanted to be an engineer but destiny made me one. When I joined college in Bengaluru I met her. The most trusted friend , she found out that I have the potential to be an author. It was a lengthy one for five years. But when I got matured somewhere in the way I lost my innocence. Love should be always innocent, like a kid getting a new toy eager to explore.

But that was not there in that love.

Infidelity was sin for me but not for her. 

Your long relationship had the shortest story? Sangeeta asked Abraham. 

Some stories lack emotion and it is not always about the time , it is always about how special a person can make you feel.

Then I met Shreya , it was in the middle of journey. A girl who is exactly like me, always in love. Loves AR Rahaman to the core . We fell in love instantly. A trained dancer and a poet it’s a match made in heaven. We never fought over anything . She was a dew drop , and you know a thing about dew drop , no one can own it neither can rain nor the leaves and the mighty earthy hugs her she will burst into water. As I don’t want to be that mighty earth which can shatter that dew drop we parted away without even a good bye.

Abraham pulled his chair rolled a cigarette and kept it beside. Sangeeta asked “ uncle what about the fourth lady ?”

Abraham with a long sigh continued his story , she came into life from nowhere . With her brown eyes and wavy hair.

Sangeeta you know beauty of love ? What I always believe is there’s no love at first sight, it is just lust  which not only means to be physical but the greed to see them be with them . Then very slowly the lust will turn into love and then to devotion and you can’t think of anything without them.  She became my friend and when she’s around I can smell her fragrance. 

So uncle you were so mad about her 

We both started laughing loudly,between that laughter a car came to his driveway from which an elegant lady stepped out. Abraham stepped out of the door and lighted his cigarette.

That lady came to Abraham and asked “ why can’t you give up this habit ?” 

He smiled and said “ it’s nice when you ask me stop “

They walked together when rain drizzled over them and golden light of the evening lit up their face.

When Sangeeta stood at the door and gazed at them, she knew that he won’t be able to finish his fourth story, he never told that angel of his life how he felt because some stories are like that it is always beautiful when remain untold.