I stood in the corner of the huge bookshop, my arms crossed as I heard people applaud him. A smile of pride filled my face as he walked towards the centre, a heartfelt grin on his face, flushed with success. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach lurched as my gaze fell on his perfect and quite familiar features. Quite some time had passed since I last saw him. He had grown thinner, his squarish jaw all the more prominent. His silky hair had grown longer and I felt the urge to run my hands through them, just like I loved to. One thing which remained unchanged were his brown eyes. They still radiated warmth and they still made my soul heave a sigh of relief, as if it wished to do nothing but just remain a subject for those chocolate-y pair of iris. I sighed.
He began speaking and I could very well sense his fatigue in it. Poor man must have strived endlessly to finish this book on time. I remembered how hard he used to work, everyday, and how much I had respected him for it. The amount of adoration I had for his books, the way he played with the language, effortlessly bringing out his thoughts in front of the reader. Little did I know that my life would take such a twisted ride because of his passion for writing, and mine for reading.
It had all begun two years back. In a bookstore much smaller than the present one and his fame lesser than now. All my life I had regarded books as my companions, abiding by the popular saying. And to my luck that day, the newly-turned famous author Swayam Shekawat had visited the bookstore, to release his new book, much to my joy. There wasn't a huge audience for him, but whoever was present in that timy bookstore, I could say with assurity, was going to be his reader for life. As he was about to leave, I had caught up to him and blabbered about how much I liked his previous book. He seemed as kind as he was charming. In a hurry, he took my contact number and promised me he would get back to me.
Life had turned flowery after that day.
Our relationship's transition from one phase to another had been as smooth a a sheet of pure snow. It felt as if nothing could go wrong in our lives. We had grown to love each other and promised to do so forever, got married and lived happily; just not ever after. Things began sliding towards a downfall during the past 10 months. Swayam had found quite a lot of fame as an author and with that he was put under the pressure to write more books. He did cope up well at first, but as dearth of imagination got to him, his frustration began to show. As much as I tried to understand and help him cope up, things worsened till I had no other choice but to break my relationship with him.
I drew in a sharp breath and felt my heart getting heavy as I thought of that excruciating day. It had been a challenge for the both of us to accept the facts, but we realised whatever was happening was doing so for good. It's been 6 months since our divorce and it seemed as if Swayam had gained his lost inspiration to write in lieu of our separation. Well, good for him.
I opened the first page of his book and smiled. The words 'Dedicated to her." printed on the paper pleased me. I felt comforted that I wasn't wrong in my decision. Another round of applause filled my ears and I looked up to see Swayam get down from the stage, the many fans jumping on him to shake hands, get an anutograph and so on.. I moved back and kept gazing at him when all of a sudden, his eyes caught my presence. I saw them widen for a second, and the very next, fill up with love; for which I yearned. Our eyes were locked on each other's for a while, his thanking me silently while mine let him know how happy I was for him. A few seconds later, a pair of shades hid those eyes and Swayam walked out of the bookstore and I remained still inside, witnessing silence invade the store again, as the noise followed Swayam outside.
"Eclipsed." The book in my hand read.
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