Wounded Hearts


It was on a lovely Friday evening that she took the decision to venture out of the hostel alone for the first time. The rains had not yet visited their university town, but the cool breeze and smell of fresh air was more romantic than the melody that rainfall brings about. Rainfall has always been music to Ramya’s ears. She lived most part of her life in the deserts of Dubai. Yes, during her growing years, most parts of Dubai were still deserts. The rains in the area were few and the ones that did come through ended up creating a messy affair rather than a pleasant one. Sand and water do not mix well, she thought. The rains there always left sand spots wherever they fell. Leaving a dusty coating on everything once the rain subsides. The hailstorm that she witnessed one year as a child, had managed to break the glass of the window in her room. From then on, rains in Dubai were more frightening memories than good ones.

Dusty Rain

Dusty Rain

Her yearly visits to her home town in India was mostly during the monsoons. The monsoons in her hometown lasted for a very long time. Sometimes confining her to her grandparent’s home for days together. They wouldn’t let her out of the house to play in the rain. All she could do was sit by the glassless gridded windows and enjoy the sounds of the falling rain and smell the happiness of the earth as it receives the water with open arms. Fond memories those were. Childhood vacations, rains, the loneliness inside the huge ancestral home filled with people. Single and alone in the never ending crowd of visitors and cousins, Ramya’s heart craved for those vacations and for the company of the monsoon sounds.

Gridded glassless window

Gridded glassless window

She was a dreamer. A romantic at heart with a smile on her face at all times. Her dreams took form of poetry and left their mark in the beautiful red diary shaped liked a heart. Her desires, her love, her dreams for the future, her Little Red Heart Diary concealed it all. Her wait for her prince charming was her secret. One that she never shared even with her sisters or best of friends. She lived in a world of her own. One into which only one person could ever enter. Her prince charming, the one and only, who would swipe her off her feet.

Red Heart Shaped Diary

Red Heart Shaped Diary

When reality struck her with a Cupid’s arrow, it was more like a friend that her prince charming came into her life. He wasn’t riding on a white horse and he did not gallop his way into her heart. He managed to capture her heart with his simplicity. A friendship that slowly blossomed into something more beautiful than the melody of rains. The cool breeze of that Friday night will always warm her heart for as long as she lives. It was on that day , she confessed her feelings to him for the first time. She did it through a song dedication. The song said it all. Her love for him and the fear she felt inside. At the time, it seemed like a brilliant idea to her.

******** Lyrics of the song hereΒ **********

There was a college fest in progress on the university grounds. She was walking towards that area. She walked alone towards the music that was being played from a nearby tent. It was there they had to go to send song dedications to fellow students. Or that matter to anybody you felt a fancy towards.Β All around the beautifully decorated stalls were college sweethearts exchanging flowers, sending dedications, enjoying each other’s company. Here her eyes searched, until she laid her eyes on him. At that very moment , her dedication was announced with their names.Β They both looked at each other with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.

Ramya should have left her dreams and her secrets in her Red Heart Diary itself. Because that’s what they finally remained as. Just dreams. Now with the added heartache of an unsuccessful love story. The story of her first and only love that ended , was the last entry in her diary. A diary that she still holds on to. The song that brought them together, becoming the truth of her life. They will always remember each other with wounded hearts that bleed fresh even after years and years of separation. First love lives on forever…..

Written for Speakeeasy 135 at Yeah Write. Word Count 709. πŸ™‚

NaBloPoMo November 2013

Dusty Rain Pic Courtesy : WhatMyCameraCaptures

Gridded Glassless window Pic Courtesy : Namastay.in

Red Heart Diary Pic Courtesy : Indiamart.com


36 thoughts on “Wounded Hearts

  1. Beautifully written piece, Jyothi. It’s a pleasure to read good blogs. And a blessing to know they are readily available to hop over and take a peep. Thank God for WT. I found ‘Jyothi’s Day Out’ πŸ™‚


  2. Do not weep for the memories but the heart does weep and bleed. This well-written story of yours is so poignant and poignant stories are always remembered.


  3. Such a romantic love story. First loves are never forgotten. Unfortunately a person usually has to make the round of “frogs” before Prince Charming finally presents himself. On the upside, we learn making the next relationship more likely to be good. β™₯


  4. Lovely story Jyothi! I particularly love the way your narration cascades over the reader. It’s a bittersweet tribute to first love.

    Thank you for linking up with us at the Speakeasy this week! πŸ™‚


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