“Are you there.... honey?”
“Hello ..... Hello” the voice on the other side crackled.
“Hello ..... Can you hear me?”
The line went dead. The conversation was lost in the static. I could hardly hear her voice in the noise. Her voice sounded more like her mother’s but I knew it was her. I had continued to blather without caring for the response. I had hardly told her about my regiment being shifted to Meerut when the static messed it up. I wish I could have heard more than a mere ‘Hello’.
I hated my job. It was the reason why I was so far away from my love. I wanted to be with her, every single day of my life, every single hour, every single moment.
It is almost an year now, I hadn’t seen her face. I wonder when this war is going to end. There are people here longing to go home, longing to see their loved ones, longing to be with their family and live long with them. The fight against the neighbouring country is still not over. Why do we have neighbours? Are they meant to always cause trouble? Or are they supposed to be living in peace and help each other out and supposed to co-exist?
I wonder why it all began. What was the reason behind us fighting in the first place? However, I am a soldier and I’m not allowed to think. I am supposed to take orders. I do what I’m told to. I am supposed to do everything I’m asked to in order to prove my loyalty. I cannot open my mouth because I’m at a very low level in the hierarchy of power. They decide the fate of everything, even guys like me – “soldiers, we are meant to go to dust, we are meant to become puppets and we are meant to be controlled.”
Tomorrow is my birthday and I’m hoping to receive a present – a nice long chat with her. That is the finest present for me. To be able to hear her voice, to be able to hear her say that she loves me, is all I wish. I’ve tried to contact her ever since I ended up here. Though there have been moments wherein I was patched through however the talk on those occasions had been a tad ephemeral.
It was my father’s decision to put me in the army and I had to reluctantly comply as seeing my father disappointed is the last thing I would want. My father is a retired Colonel and he wishes to see his boy just like him. So ‘here I am’ fulfilling his expectations. It did cost me a lot I must say. Three years from now I can remember myself holding hands with the love of my life in high school attending the annual function. I had never thought I would end up caressing defence services like this instead.
MEMORIES FROM THE PAST
Her name was Sneha. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
I still remember the day she had entered the classroom during the Maths lecture and was introduced as the new admission. All the guys were drooling over her when she took her seat while I swear I could smell other girls burning with jealousy.
It was a hard job to grab her attention albeit my witty abilities and my knowledge in the subjects taught then, did the job. I remember myself showing off a lot than I used to. Soon we were talking and we became friends. I used to help her out with her homework sometimes. “Being smart has its perks”. Then came down the barrier wherein the boys ceased talking to girls. We called it ‘The Barricade’. We started considering them another species. Those who talked to girls were treated very coldly and were branded as jerks. I didn’t want to be called a jerk. Guys made a lot of groups and each group thought they were super-cool. Hence cults came into existence.
It was in tenth grade when I started realizing the need to get back with her and my urge to talk with her. Her eyes started appealing to me a lot suddenly out of nowhere. I seriously fell in love with her. I tried my best to draw her attention whenever I got an opportunity. I made myself the best in the class. I became humorous unknowingly but was still not talking to girls because of the cult. Many gave in but I was the last.
I had realized that I was in love with her. I used to call out her name out loud whenever I was alone. I once got her number and called her. She was surprised but was cordial. I started calling her every day after that. I soon felt that she was into me. I once told my group about me talking to her. They were disappointed although my best buddies forgave me very soon.
I had to tell her how I felt. I grabbed an opportunity one day and said to her, “I think I am in love with you”. She wasn’t surprised and she confessed that she had felt the same way since ‘The Barricade’. It was the happiest day of my life. We were in love and it was official. We started seeing each other a lot. We would come to school early and would sit together in the classroom and would talk incessantly. I would seek opportunities wherein I could fly kisses to her even if the teacher was in the class. We would write love letters to each other. We would talk on the phone for hours continuously.
I remember the day I had kissed her in the classroom when there was no one around. A little innocent peck it was, out of the blue, when I cupped her face and signed it with my lips. When I used to look at her I used to think, “God I love her”. There had been days wherein I would hold her hand without caring for the public. There had been talks wherein we had created dreams that were supposed to come true in the future. She would marry me in her dreams and we used to share the joy of being together in our dreams. We would have kids in our dreams too. I’d fall in love with her a thousand times and she’d blush every time I did. I didn’t know there was romance in me at all until she happened to me.
Her innocence was something for which I could have done anything. Her lovely face used to refresh me every day. The flame used to put me once again up in a position to defy challenges. I used to feel I could do anything if she was with me.
She is in love with me. I am madly in love with her. Nothing has changed except for the fact that we are distant birds now.
Her father was a man of his word. She had once mentioned that her father wanted a well settled son-in-law and not a jobless fop. That gave wings to my diligence. I wanted to be something substantial in my life to win his daughter’s hand. So agreeing to my father’s dream didn’t seem a bad idea then. Thus here I am endeavouring to win the love of my life and fulfilling everyone’s dream in an attempt to have her for real.
Five postings in a year were unusual. Hadn’t there been a war I would be enjoying holidays as usual. I couldn’t write to her as she did not want her family to know. I could only call which was next to impossible due to the training. Not a day had passed without me finding a way to contact her.
A siren blew in distance.
“Buckle up boys! We have to leave for Meerut now.”
My stream of thoughts was broken by the commander. With a heavy heart I packed up my bags and donned myself in the uniform. I was all set to leave. I stared at her picture that I had been carrying with me for the last time. She smiled back at me as she always did. I took a deep breath, put it back in my backpack and joined the marching band.
FROM MY DIARY:
2nd June 1999
I’ve killed a lot of men. My bullets have pierced their hearts while their screams of agony still resound in my head. They all visit me in my nightmares. Their faces haunt me in my dreams and appeal to me as if they wish to know why I slew them. The blood keeps on reminding me of the job I’m compelled to do. Some say they serve their country. Such maxims keep them alive in the war.
Such adages give them the pluck to survive in worst conditions, laid down by politics. I have seen fear in the eyes of the strong. I’ve seen love in the eyes of the men who could not be easily thawed. I’ve seen the fearless stammering. It is still hysterical to see them ready to go to war whenever they are steered for it.
In a few days I’ll be back doing what I’ve been afraid of. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to take another life. If they say I am allowed to kill then what does that make me? “The Devil’s Reaper?” If only someone tolls the bell.
The bell that signals –
There is no need to fight. It is all over. We’ve had enough. We are grownups now. We can handle it like grownups. We can discuss and come to conclusions. A fight is certainly the last thing everyone needs. Go home everybody! Go to your loved ones!
“Go home soldier! She is waiting for you!”
I’m losing it. I seriously need to get back. Her beautiful eyes are calling me once again. She keeps on staring at me.
4th June 1999
I’ve been bathing a lot nowadays wishing the ‘sin’ to get washed away. The sin that I’ve been forced to carry on my shoulders, the sin that would curse me and mess up all my actions and the same sin that would stare hard at my conscience in the years to come. I wish the guilt to wane, to wither away completely from my head. They keep telling me that, if you are a soldier, killing a person doesn’t count as a sin. It all seems too good to be true. I wish it were all true.
On the battlefield
Our forces had taken a lot of casualties. A fellow mate was shot in the chest. He was breathing heavily as I carried him back to the base. He was weeping, crying in pain and swearing his grief. He asked me to tell his wife how much he loved her. I assured him that everything was going to be fine. How hard it is to lie when you know that you are obscuring the truth! How hard it is to promise someone something which is never going to happen! How difficult it is to create a flame which you know is never going to surmount the darkness!
As I tried to pacify him, a bullet, out of nowhere, hit his skull and did the job. His blood painted my face red. His breathing ceased almost abruptly. He slept dead in my arms. I looked at his face. How calm he looked! How content he appeared! It seemed to be a wonderful solution to get rid of this world of chaos. He was in a place that looked tranquil, a place better than ours, a place free from personal malice and a place far away from this muck and free from the ruckus.
I was a bullet away from the most apposite solution. I could end my life with a bullet and could easily choose a better option, free of chaos, free from the world’s grief, away from the human commotion and satiate my urge once and for all.
But no! I have to live for her. I have to survive this nightmare. I have to live so that I can get back with her. I want to be happy once again. I want to cuddle her in my arms. I wish to embrace her. She is the only flame that keeps me burning. Who am I without her? How can I even think of leaving her alone in this world of contemptuous people? I am her protector. I will be her protector. I wish to caress her once again, want to breathe with her, to share her every woe, to share her every tear, to share the moments of love and joy and to fondle her affection.
As I was half way through, a bomb exploded a few inches away from me bringing down a cloud of flames and smoke all around. The whole environment went numb.
“Had I gone deaf?” I thought.
I couldn’t see anything except for the soot. The dust filled my eyes. I tried to lift myself up but I could barely move. I laid there motionless for a while. As unconsciousness spread its arms on me, I saw her in the dust for a while, the same image of hers – smiling at me as she always did.
In the hospital
I discovered myself awake in a hospital. I was in the list of the injured personnel who were transferred back to Delhi. I had fractured bones and broken ligaments all across my body. They said that it would take me months to heal. To be able to stand, walk and run would take some more. I was really shattered when I had discovered about my injuries. My inability to move had rendered me quite useless.
My family visited quite often. But my eyes searched her all along. I prayed every single moment and asked God to give me the strength to fight my condition. I wanted to get back on my feet once again. I wanted to see her. A vague attempt on the phone had connected me to her once.
“Hi! It is good to hear your voice.
“Yeah! Same here”, she meekly said.
“You wouldn’t believe what disaster I had been through”, I tried to tell her.
“Well I’ve something to tell you as well”, she pointed.
“Okay you go first!” I wanted her to do the talking. Hearing her voice was like heaven to me. I wanted to stay on the phone forever.
“Wait! My mother showed up.” A hiatus “Gotta go now. Will talk later. Bye.” She hurriedly prepared to hang up.
“Wait…… I love you”, I said amiably.
“Love you too”, she replied and hung up.
Those were the words which I longed to hear every time she talked. Those words were heavenly for me. They seemed so different and out of the world whenever they came from her lips. However crazy this might sound but I used to go numb for a while as I used to savour the ecstasy she used to put me in. I used to put my life in slow motion whenever those words came out from her so that I could repeat them in my dreams as they were my strength to carry on doing what I used to do and to live, if not for me, then for her.
FROM MY DIARY:
1st August 1999
The news channels keep bragging about the new dawn which brought us this wonderful day. The war is over. It is a joy to hear some good news after all. My fellow mates would finally be able to visit their families. No more blood eventually. No more cries. No more tears. No more martyrs. No more graves.
I’m glad that the chaos are gone. I don't want anybody to be a part of it. I wish nobody becomes a part of this madness ever. Haven’t we seen enough? Why do we still need a piece of it?
I had once seen a little girl holding a placard while we marched on our way to the mountains. With innocent curves and cute hand writing of hers, it read – “Daddy please come back.”
17th August 1999
A fellow friend who happened to be from my town had called to check on me. Before he hung up he pointed me something which buggers my flow of emotions. He said that she was seeing some other guy in the town - a fellow mate of hers in the arts class. I was taken aback a little however it hardly quavered me. I remembered the day when she had talked about trust.
It really doesn't matter anymore because I trust her. Haven't we shared some memorable moments of our lives together? Nothing can surpass the fervour and the special bond that we have. Nothing in this world could possibly surmount the love we are a part of. All I know is that ‘I love her true’ and she loves me too. What could possibly go wrong?
1st September 1999
They are shifting me to my house tomorrow. They said it is like a miracle the way my body has recovered so quickly from the dislocations. I take it as a sign from Him probably giving me the strength to be with my love. I am really excited as I want to feel the warmth of my home. I want to breathe in the fresh homely air in my lungs. The pathetic pungent smell of the hospital has really messed up my sense of smell.
The plasters on my hand have been removed. My right leg however carries one. It is not that bad as I can move around slowly albeit painfully. I had written her name over the plasters, though a pretty lame thing to do, but I guess it helped me get better in no time. How happy she would be when I’ll tell her such little things.
There is so much to tell her. There are so many words, so many topics to blather on and so much love to shower. I wish I get discharged today. I can’t take it anymore. I want to be with her right now.
At my home
I had no idea how one can become the centre of attraction of one’s family so easily until today. Ever since I came in I have been served fruits of varieties, I doubt, are there in the market, sweets which I had always longed for but never got an opportunity to taste, cuisines from every corner of the earth and delicacies that were experimenting with my palate every now and then. I was like a hero when I returned. My neighbours were out on the streets with drums as if I was the cause of the triumph. I was lifted up on shoulders and was demonstrated as an artefact to those who didn’t know me. Relatives from different corners of the country came to visit me every now and then. Some scintillated things about my marriage. I blushed with her picture in my mind. I wanted to call her at once but decided to let the commotion subside.
At dusk I dialled her number. She picked up to my relief.
“Hi jaanu!” my words trickled down with love.
“Hi”
“It’s like ages I haven’t seen you”, I pointed out.
“Yeah same here! How are you?” she augmented a question.
“I’m great. The final plaster will be removed this weekend. I guess that will be a thumbs up sign for me. How about we meet the day after?”
“Okay. Wish you recuperate soon. I can’t wait to see that you are doing fine.”
“I’ll be okay if you are there by my side.”
“Okay then bye! See you on Monday.”
“Bye honey! I love thee true.”
“Yeah same here.”
I understood that there was someone at her end probably so she bailed herself out. We had developed a rapport which took care of our feelings for each other so that neither of us felt bad. These were few little things that we used to mutually fathom so as to assist each other, in order to get through the adversities that popped up every now and then, in our path of love.
FROM MY DIARY:
2nd September 1999
I am surprised to find myself elated after such a long span. Her voice seemed sweeter today. Her breath beguiled the rest. Blessed I felt when her innocence fell on my ears. I wish the moments persist but alas I am a mere man, a puppet in the hands of time, compelled to dance on His tune. The wind wouldn’t blow on my command and the rain wouldn’t shower on my nod. He keeps on manifesting every now and then that we ought to know our confinements. He defies us flatly and summons us to venture on the arena of virility although He is already aware of the consequences right from the beginning. He loves to see us vanquished. Thus we lose every now and then and curse fate forever.
I remember those days when I used to get kisses on the receiver. Such lovely voices they were. The lovely sound of her sloppy kisses used to impregnate my soul. We would often chuckle at the thought of bringing those fantasies to breathe.
There are no words that can possibly describe my feelings for her. I used to say this and she would blush if I would try to express myself in her presence. How much I love her!
I can’t wait a week. I want to see her right now.
4th September 1999
As I bring those sweet days to my memory I can remember her innocent talks on the phone. I wished to captivate those cute moments forever and so I used to pen down such special moments whenever I would come across one. Such glorious evanescent memories used to go down in my diary at once, so as to bring them alive once again in the future with ‘her’ by my side. That diary sleeps in my closet hitherto well protected and hidden from the world, the key to which lies in her hands.
There were those special occasions wherein I had a sudden urge to embrace her and kiss her because of something she said, something stupid or something innocent that left her mouth, which would never go unnoticed by me and eventually land up in that secret diary of mine.
There are so many things that I’ve kept hidden as a surprise to be unveiled in the years to come when we will be together.
5th September 1999
Tomorrow is the big day. Another one’s today. They are going to remove the last plaster. I’d love to see myself rejuvenate after a while. A dance and a run would suffice however that depends totally on my mother’s consent.
I would love to have some ‘fresh air’ tomorrow which I surmise would be gladly complied as I’ve already hinted my wish to walk freely with my legs back.
The big day is closing in and I’d do anything to make it a memorable one. The past few months had really taken a bit of me on the battleground. With me back I wish to be the same gentleman I was back in the days when we had fallen in love. I want every moment to be perfect and hence I don’t want to leave any stone unturned. I confide in my brother and so I’ve told him about tomorrow’s tryst. He is more excited than I am. He would take care of the parental jargon for me. Everything is set and I am impatient like I have never been before.
I rang her up only to find her busy in her class. However she confirmed her status for tomorrow.
I can’t wait to meet her. I am going nuts already.
THE SPECIAL DAY
I rang her once again to reassure myself that it wasn’t a dream. We decided to meet at 6 PM at a coffee shop of my choice. I dressed up at once and rechecked myself in the mirror. Bryan Adams was playing his hit single ‘Everything I do’ in the background. I imitated a few lines of my favourite movies with raised brows and dilated orbs in front of the mirror. I did my special effects move at the ‘poor’ mirror with smouldering eyes and I swear it could have shattered to pieces hadn’t my brother showed up. He gave me a mischievous grin to which I winked.
After I combed my hair for the tenth time, I sprayed the deodorant all over my body and checked my breath. I had to leave eventually as some annoyed comments started pestering my flow. All of them were from my brother remarking “Oh! C’mon!”
It was about 5:45 when I showed up at the meeting spot. I sat in the coffee bar for a while. The steward started giving me weird looks so to satiate him I gave him the “I am expecting someone” look. He didn’t mind as far as I posed as a customer to him. I stood up as I became restless and decided to exercise my legs for a while with a little stroll around.
The time read 6:15 already. My watch yanked my eyes open and seemed to scream at me “Dude Where is she?” I meekly answered it, “Be patient you stupid watch!”
6:30.No sign of her. I was calm although worry tried to squeeze itself in my brain. I decided to call her up. She picked up and mentioned that she would be there in 15. I rambled for another 10 with the “Everything’s fine” attitude. The army had taught me so many things. Undeterred demeanour was probably one of the good things.
At last there she was - My angel sent from heaven on this mundane earth. Nothing had changed about her as I was feeling the same surge to hug her and caress her. She smiled at me as she descended on the staircase to where I stood. It reminded me of my favourite scene from Titanic where Leo gets to kiss Kate's hand. Albeit the stage was same, it happened so abruptly that it washed off those memories from the movie in a jiffy.
“Sorry I’m late.” She pointed at once.
I was too dumbstruck by her presence to respond immediately.
“It’s fine.” I said and augmented –“Shall we?”
We entered the coffee bar mitigating the steward’s discomfort and at once took our seats. She pointed that she hated the smell of coffee. That came as a bummer to me but I shook it off with an “I’ll be careful now” remark.
I looked at her. Her radiance made me go back and dig in those memories from the past wherein I had allowed a sudden stream of emotion to surmount me, wherein I had pecked her lovingly, wherein I used to stare in her eyes before saying, “God how much I love you !”
I smiled at her. My romance did the talking. I watched her in disbelief still not sure if it was a dream.
“How are you honey?” I inquired.
“Good! How are you feeling now?”She asked me.
“Finally able to walk. Although it keeps me up at night......Oh! Wait there is one more thing that keeps me awake at night. Wanna guess?” I chuckled. My eyes spoke of love. They could have drenched her with my emotions had it been any other day. She concocted a mild smile.
The love stare that I used to give her didn’t make her blush this time. She seemed tensed. She looked away as if she was uncomfortable.
“.....Thy eyes......” I managed to answer meekly.
She looked down at her cell as it flashed with a message beep. I let her attend to it while I studied her face carefully. Something appeared wrong to me. Her countenance bore a stern look. It used to mean ‘trouble’, I thought, but she looked cuter with a glint of wrath on her face. I shook off my thoughts. Something tormented her. I didn’t know what.
When she was finished I became more sober.
“Are you okay?” I inquired.
“Are you aware of the fact that you didn’t call me for eight months?”She asked, out of the blue.
“What? No ......Yes!” I didn’t know what to say.
“Did you even bother to ask me if I was alright?” she shot another one at me.
“What is the matter baby? Are you alright?” Nothing made sense to me.
“Nobody cares about me. Nobody ....not even my father, my mother, my brother and not even you.... Nobody cares.” Her voice seemed to crack. She was about to cry it seemed. I shifted my chair next to hers in order to console her.
After a pause she continued, “I was so alone. I needed love. Where were you when I needed you?”
“Honey you know where I was. I know how you might have felt. I couldn’t contact you baby. My hands were tied....” I tried to explain.
“No.....You weren’t there when I needed you the most.” She was adamant.
Her cell kept on beeping meanwhile. Messages kept on disturbing her flow every now and then.
“Baby I was doing my best out there. I am really sorry. I should’ve contacted you but we were sent off for T.D. then there was this Operation .....”
She didn’t let me finish. She wasn’t interested in my story. Her recalcitrance was frustrating.
“No.....I cannot do this anymore. I just can’t. I’ve had enough. You don’t love me anymore.”
“Jaanu I know I haven’t been a good guy. Give me a chance to prove myself. I know I’ve been a jerk for not calling you. From tomorrow onwards, I’ll call you every day. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“No that’s it. I think we should call it off.”
What has gotten into her? She looked normal a few moments before. She had completely shaken my world. My dreams looked shattered to me already. Was I dreaming? If only it was a dream. I pinched myself to confirm. Ouch! That hurt me.
“What is it baby? Is there anything that you want to tell me?” My thoughts rambled towards the ‘new’ guy in her life. I could feel wrath building up in me gradually but I didn’t want her to know that I was aware of a ‘him’ in her life. I caught a glimpse of her eyes and I could easily make out the truth hiding with conviction behind the sea of excuses.
LIES ....!
There have been moments in my life where I was forced to lie ‘for her’ a gazillion times. I used to bluntly lie in front of my parents even though I knew the fact I wasn’t good at it. I had lost my parent’s trust. The good in me was stifled big time. I didn’t want to lose her and so I lied all the time. Those lies used to stare hard at my conscience and used to defy the same saying, “What cha gonna do about it?” while I used to timidly shut my eyes always endeavouring to dodge reality.
I had always been helpless. I used to discuss with her how much I hate lies. How abominable they appear when they squeeze out every part from you that is ‘good’. Why can’t someone be truthful? How bad things could go when you embrace the truth? Is it really that difficult to stay hidden under the aegis of veracity? I had once decided – “come what may I would never lie in my entire life to my family and friends”. I have been embracing the maxim ever since. I am always ready for consequences of speaking the truth. The aftermath hardly matters now as I have become audacious.
I used to get hurt when she lied because I didn’t want her to experience the dusky part of one’s soul. I didn’t want her to walk on my path. Lying to your loved ones is the worst thing one can do in this evanescent life. I’d never want that for her. I’d never want her to repent. I’d never want her to hate herself for something. However what bothered me the most was the fact that she had taken the shelter of lies once again. Her veracity-umbrella stood stained.
She was hurting me by lying to me, hurting me more as she didn’t care if I was offended and hurting me like hell by manipulating the truth so as to make her ‘issue’ the ultimate cause so as to tie the albatross on my neck. I didn’t want to play along. Her behaviour was smothering me. Yet I let her finish.
“I can’t just go on like this. I need to break-up. I knew from the beginning that it wouldn’t work out between us. I had that premonition. Had we started with a close friendship it wouldn’t have ended like this.”
My thoughts decided to play. “Wait! What? Does she even know what love is? Is it just meant for a temporary pleasure and then to be forgotten forever? Is it that ethereal?”
“Jaanu! I swear to God that I’ll make it work. I love you true baby and I always will. I know I’ve been bad for not calling my baby but I promise I’ll make it up to you. Don't do this to me. I’ll die without you.”
With an impulse I realized and reconsidered my last lines. I would die without her by my side. “She is my breath. How can I part with her?” If she leaves me I would be bereft of my soul. I would become a walking dead. A soulless body forced to loiter around in the purgatory of the cruel life albeit its crudeness would hardly matter then.
“What am I going to do without you?” I tried to say but I choked.
Her eyes were screaming out loud – “Why don’t you just let go of me? Please I can’t love you anymore. Why are you being so adamant?”
I decided to let go even though I couldn’t come out of the shock but the desperation certainly was getting on my nerves. Her eyes used to talk. They used to tell me how profound her love was for me. But they were talking gibberish that day. Unfortunately that day wasn’t mine.
I sat there defeated. My eyes failed to withhold the tears so they involuntarily oozed out. She understood that I wasn’t going to retaliate again. Her countenance manifested contentment like a warrior who had just vanquished his enemy. I tried to contemplate her situation. It seemed to me she must have felt guilty for keeping both ends alive. So she needed to set things right for the good of her conscience, so that her inner self doesn’t hate her. She couldn’t have possibly continued loving both of us and probably ‘he’ being the shinier pebble was picked from the shore. There were so many solutions to our problems but all appeared worthless when put against ‘him’ in her heart.
I could have told her so many things but I decided to keep mum. It’s not fair to break someone’s heart at least not in my dictionary. I could have asked her to tell me the truth. I could have asked her to be honest with me for the last moment and make it easier for me to gobble the facts. I could have asked her to lie to me once again for the last time and say “I love you true” to me coz boy it sounded like heaven to me.
I looked at her for the last time. My baby! She looked like an angel to me.
I wish I could tell her everything. I wish I could tell her about the reason why I couldn’t call her. I wish I could tell her about those little things that kept me burning in the war or in the duel with life. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. She was blindfolded with the strip of love and that love certainly didn’t come from my attic. I should leave it that way. At least I would part with happy memories of her like the one picture of hers where she used to smile at me- as she always did.
I stood up walked about clumsily with unsure steps then left the spot. Her last words, as far as I could bring back to my memory, were –“Goodbye”.
I headed straight towards my home and found my brother waiting for me.
My brother read my thoughts. I hugged him so tightly and cried in his arms like I had never cried before.The pain was too much to handle. I am a mere human after all. I am made up of flesh and bones. My heart’s fragile. I am fragile. All those sweet memories caused an insincere gush in me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to think. I couldn’t possibly shut my brain all of a sudden. I didn’t realize how I fell asleep in my brother’s arm that day.
She kept haunting me in my dreams that night.
It was a ceremony wherein I could see her standing near the porch talking to a fellow mate of hers. She was dressed in white. I could see her glimmer from that distance as if she was the only thing to focus. She waved at me when she saw me. I smiled at her. I began my steps towards her when suddenly out of the blue she kissed the guy standing next to him. I fell on my knees. The tears burst out of my orbs as if they were constrained by a dam of patience. When I looked back at her I could still figure out her smooching with the silhouette that was standing next to her on the porch. I dug my face deep into my hands as if I had been touched by reality for a second. I tried to look up and when I did she was gone. I retreated and on the way back I saw my mother standing there. I wept in her arms as I had never before.
“Kill me mom ........ Kill me ....I don’t want to live like this. Let me die. Please kill me!”
While she tried to console me I realized that everything present there, which appeared so real, started withering away. I tried to get hold of the things but the flicker from reality brought me into the lively world once again. As it did, it left the impressions of the mist on my face.
I was wide awake now. I discovered myself in tears. I sat near the window which overlooked the brilliance of the world. I made sure that nobody was watching me and then I cried for another half an hour with ‘her’ in my mind.
FROM MY DIARY:
26th November 1999
I’ve to survive albeit I am wounded. I’ve to live, keep on living, meet thousands of faces, appreciate wonders and learn to live with them.
I can see her countenance. Yes her smiling countenance, her orbs staring at me, blushing at times, affection written all over her face, asking me every now and then whenever my eyes made her uncomfortable, “Why are you looking at me like this?” I can remember myself saying – “God how much I long for you! What am I going to do without you?”
What am I going to do without her? What am I doing without her? She is not in my life anymore and I am forced to brood. All I am left with are ‘impressions’ and all I venture to do is to hold these impressions and caress them tightly even though I am aware of the ugly truth - ‘abstract notions can’t be captivated’.
If the latter were untrue, hadn’t my affection left me, bereft me alone to walk barefoot on the scorching dunes of life where emotional mirages appear only to give you a temporary joy, thus eyeing you directly in your orbs, defying you and bawling out loud – “You are screwed buddy!” Augmenting to the list of tortures, painful blisters on your naked feet appear thus giving you a ‘pleasant’ company.
I can picture myself sitting in the coffee shop with her by my side. Now all I can think about is how she had concocted, to fake it. How she had covered up the blunder in a relationship committed by her under the pretext of my petty mistakes! How bluntly she had lied! Oh how good she was at that! Was all of that fake? Was nothing true? What about all those moments we spent together? I had once read this on a t-shirt -“Out of all your lies you said to me, I love you was my favourite.”
It makes me wonder why not for a single moment she cared to give a thought to those lovely moments we spent together? Why not for a single moment did she remember me holding her hand? Maybe a mere thought could have altered her decision, could have altered her predetermined conviction to break up, and could have altered her flawed conscience probably. Maybe she could’ve never left me then.
Still the moments of the farewell come revisiting me. The picture of me asking her not to leave me like that, to give me a chance to manifest her that every part of my body speaks of love for her, to impart me an opportunity to show her the affection I had in my heart, and how much I had cried too when I wasn’t able to keep in touch.
Whenever the emotional part in me gets tingled with affection, it reminds me of her countenance staring in my eyes, the serene she, with her mute look that said a thousand words, without actually opening her mouth.
2nd January 2000
I’ve finally decided to discontinue my services in the army. I’d rather become something else. It was a Herculean task to bring that up in front of my father. However I managed to pull it through. Now with the odour of war finally disintegrating into fragments I feel like I can eventually breathe like a normal person. I want to lead a normal life albeit the reason has left me soulless.
When I ponder over those little unsaid things, those lovely love-stares and those innocent moments that I had tried to capture in my diary I wonder what happened to all that love? Where did it go? How did it vaporize in the air? I had wished to surprise her with my collection in the future. How sorry I feel for myself! That time never came. That diary still sleeps in my closet - intact.
I dig up memories from the past just to relive those moments, although the irony that it carries shatters me every now and then.
I’d hold her hand and say, “I would never leave you alone.”
She would look into my eyes and would say, “Me neither.”
“Hello ..... Hello” the voice on the other side crackled.
“Hello ..... Can you hear me?”
The line went dead. The conversation was lost in the static. I could hardly hear her voice in the noise. Her voice sounded more like her mother’s but I knew it was her. I had continued to blather without caring for the response. I had hardly told her about my regiment being shifted to Meerut when the static messed it up. I wish I could have heard more than a mere ‘Hello’.
I hated my job. It was the reason why I was so far away from my love. I wanted to be with her, every single day of my life, every single hour, every single moment.
It is almost an year now, I hadn’t seen her face. I wonder when this war is going to end. There are people here longing to go home, longing to see their loved ones, longing to be with their family and live long with them. The fight against the neighbouring country is still not over. Why do we have neighbours? Are they meant to always cause trouble? Or are they supposed to be living in peace and help each other out and supposed to co-exist?
I wonder why it all began. What was the reason behind us fighting in the first place? However, I am a soldier and I’m not allowed to think. I am supposed to take orders. I do what I’m told to. I am supposed to do everything I’m asked to in order to prove my loyalty. I cannot open my mouth because I’m at a very low level in the hierarchy of power. They decide the fate of everything, even guys like me – “soldiers, we are meant to go to dust, we are meant to become puppets and we are meant to be controlled.”
Tomorrow is my birthday and I’m hoping to receive a present – a nice long chat with her. That is the finest present for me. To be able to hear her voice, to be able to hear her say that she loves me, is all I wish. I’ve tried to contact her ever since I ended up here. Though there have been moments wherein I was patched through however the talk on those occasions had been a tad ephemeral.
It was my father’s decision to put me in the army and I had to reluctantly comply as seeing my father disappointed is the last thing I would want. My father is a retired Colonel and he wishes to see his boy just like him. So ‘here I am’ fulfilling his expectations. It did cost me a lot I must say. Three years from now I can remember myself holding hands with the love of my life in high school attending the annual function. I had never thought I would end up caressing defence services like this instead.
MEMORIES FROM THE PAST
Her name was Sneha. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
I still remember the day she had entered the classroom during the Maths lecture and was introduced as the new admission. All the guys were drooling over her when she took her seat while I swear I could smell other girls burning with jealousy.
It was a hard job to grab her attention albeit my witty abilities and my knowledge in the subjects taught then, did the job. I remember myself showing off a lot than I used to. Soon we were talking and we became friends. I used to help her out with her homework sometimes. “Being smart has its perks”. Then came down the barrier wherein the boys ceased talking to girls. We called it ‘The Barricade’. We started considering them another species. Those who talked to girls were treated very coldly and were branded as jerks. I didn’t want to be called a jerk. Guys made a lot of groups and each group thought they were super-cool. Hence cults came into existence.
It was in tenth grade when I started realizing the need to get back with her and my urge to talk with her. Her eyes started appealing to me a lot suddenly out of nowhere. I seriously fell in love with her. I tried my best to draw her attention whenever I got an opportunity. I made myself the best in the class. I became humorous unknowingly but was still not talking to girls because of the cult. Many gave in but I was the last.
I had realized that I was in love with her. I used to call out her name out loud whenever I was alone. I once got her number and called her. She was surprised but was cordial. I started calling her every day after that. I soon felt that she was into me. I once told my group about me talking to her. They were disappointed although my best buddies forgave me very soon.
I had to tell her how I felt. I grabbed an opportunity one day and said to her, “I think I am in love with you”. She wasn’t surprised and she confessed that she had felt the same way since ‘The Barricade’. It was the happiest day of my life. We were in love and it was official. We started seeing each other a lot. We would come to school early and would sit together in the classroom and would talk incessantly. I would seek opportunities wherein I could fly kisses to her even if the teacher was in the class. We would write love letters to each other. We would talk on the phone for hours continuously.
I remember the day I had kissed her in the classroom when there was no one around. A little innocent peck it was, out of the blue, when I cupped her face and signed it with my lips. When I used to look at her I used to think, “God I love her”. There had been days wherein I would hold her hand without caring for the public. There had been talks wherein we had created dreams that were supposed to come true in the future. She would marry me in her dreams and we used to share the joy of being together in our dreams. We would have kids in our dreams too. I’d fall in love with her a thousand times and she’d blush every time I did. I didn’t know there was romance in me at all until she happened to me.
Her innocence was something for which I could have done anything. Her lovely face used to refresh me every day. The flame used to put me once again up in a position to defy challenges. I used to feel I could do anything if she was with me.
She is in love with me. I am madly in love with her. Nothing has changed except for the fact that we are distant birds now.
Her father was a man of his word. She had once mentioned that her father wanted a well settled son-in-law and not a jobless fop. That gave wings to my diligence. I wanted to be something substantial in my life to win his daughter’s hand. So agreeing to my father’s dream didn’t seem a bad idea then. Thus here I am endeavouring to win the love of my life and fulfilling everyone’s dream in an attempt to have her for real.
Five postings in a year were unusual. Hadn’t there been a war I would be enjoying holidays as usual. I couldn’t write to her as she did not want her family to know. I could only call which was next to impossible due to the training. Not a day had passed without me finding a way to contact her.
A siren blew in distance.
“Buckle up boys! We have to leave for Meerut now.”
My stream of thoughts was broken by the commander. With a heavy heart I packed up my bags and donned myself in the uniform. I was all set to leave. I stared at her picture that I had been carrying with me for the last time. She smiled back at me as she always did. I took a deep breath, put it back in my backpack and joined the marching band.
FROM MY DIARY:
2nd June 1999
I’ve killed a lot of men. My bullets have pierced their hearts while their screams of agony still resound in my head. They all visit me in my nightmares. Their faces haunt me in my dreams and appeal to me as if they wish to know why I slew them. The blood keeps on reminding me of the job I’m compelled to do. Some say they serve their country. Such maxims keep them alive in the war.
Such adages give them the pluck to survive in worst conditions, laid down by politics. I have seen fear in the eyes of the strong. I’ve seen love in the eyes of the men who could not be easily thawed. I’ve seen the fearless stammering. It is still hysterical to see them ready to go to war whenever they are steered for it. In a few days I’ll be back doing what I’ve been afraid of. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to take another life. If they say I am allowed to kill then what does that make me? “The Devil’s Reaper?” If only someone tolls the bell.
The bell that signals –
There is no need to fight. It is all over. We’ve had enough. We are grownups now. We can handle it like grownups. We can discuss and come to conclusions. A fight is certainly the last thing everyone needs. Go home everybody! Go to your loved ones!
“Go home soldier! She is waiting for you!”
I’m losing it. I seriously need to get back. Her beautiful eyes are calling me once again. She keeps on staring at me.
4th June 1999
I’ve been bathing a lot nowadays wishing the ‘sin’ to get washed away. The sin that I’ve been forced to carry on my shoulders, the sin that would curse me and mess up all my actions and the same sin that would stare hard at my conscience in the years to come. I wish the guilt to wane, to wither away completely from my head. They keep telling me that, if you are a soldier, killing a person doesn’t count as a sin. It all seems too good to be true. I wish it were all true.
On the battlefield
Our forces had taken a lot of casualties. A fellow mate was shot in the chest. He was breathing heavily as I carried him back to the base. He was weeping, crying in pain and swearing his grief. He asked me to tell his wife how much he loved her. I assured him that everything was going to be fine. How hard it is to lie when you know that you are obscuring the truth! How hard it is to promise someone something which is never going to happen! How difficult it is to create a flame which you know is never going to surmount the darkness!
As I tried to pacify him, a bullet, out of nowhere, hit his skull and did the job. His blood painted my face red. His breathing ceased almost abruptly. He slept dead in my arms. I looked at his face. How calm he looked! How content he appeared! It seemed to be a wonderful solution to get rid of this world of chaos. He was in a place that looked tranquil, a place better than ours, a place free from personal malice and a place far away from this muck and free from the ruckus. I was a bullet away from the most apposite solution. I could end my life with a bullet and could easily choose a better option, free of chaos, free from the world’s grief, away from the human commotion and satiate my urge once and for all.
But no! I have to live for her. I have to survive this nightmare. I have to live so that I can get back with her. I want to be happy once again. I want to cuddle her in my arms. I wish to embrace her. She is the only flame that keeps me burning. Who am I without her? How can I even think of leaving her alone in this world of contemptuous people? I am her protector. I will be her protector. I wish to caress her once again, want to breathe with her, to share her every woe, to share her every tear, to share the moments of love and joy and to fondle her affection.
As I was half way through, a bomb exploded a few inches away from me bringing down a cloud of flames and smoke all around. The whole environment went numb.
“Had I gone deaf?” I thought.
I couldn’t see anything except for the soot. The dust filled my eyes. I tried to lift myself up but I could barely move. I laid there motionless for a while. As unconsciousness spread its arms on me, I saw her in the dust for a while, the same image of hers – smiling at me as she always did.
In the hospital
I discovered myself awake in a hospital. I was in the list of the injured personnel who were transferred back to Delhi. I had fractured bones and broken ligaments all across my body. They said that it would take me months to heal. To be able to stand, walk and run would take some more. I was really shattered when I had discovered about my injuries. My inability to move had rendered me quite useless.
My family visited quite often. But my eyes searched her all along. I prayed every single moment and asked God to give me the strength to fight my condition. I wanted to get back on my feet once again. I wanted to see her. A vague attempt on the phone had connected me to her once.
“Hi! It is good to hear your voice.
“Yeah! Same here”, she meekly said.
“You wouldn’t believe what disaster I had been through”, I tried to tell her.
“Well I’ve something to tell you as well”, she pointed.
“Okay you go first!” I wanted her to do the talking. Hearing her voice was like heaven to me. I wanted to stay on the phone forever.
“Wait! My mother showed up.” A hiatus “Gotta go now. Will talk later. Bye.” She hurriedly prepared to hang up.
“Wait…… I love you”, I said amiably.
“Love you too”, she replied and hung up.
Those were the words which I longed to hear every time she talked. Those words were heavenly for me. They seemed so different and out of the world whenever they came from her lips. However crazy this might sound but I used to go numb for a while as I used to savour the ecstasy she used to put me in. I used to put my life in slow motion whenever those words came out from her so that I could repeat them in my dreams as they were my strength to carry on doing what I used to do and to live, if not for me, then for her.
FROM MY DIARY:
1st August 1999
The news channels keep bragging about the new dawn which brought us this wonderful day. The war is over. It is a joy to hear some good news after all. My fellow mates would finally be able to visit their families. No more blood eventually. No more cries. No more tears. No more martyrs. No more graves.
I’m glad that the chaos are gone. I don't want anybody to be a part of it. I wish nobody becomes a part of this madness ever. Haven’t we seen enough? Why do we still need a piece of it?
I had once seen a little girl holding a placard while we marched on our way to the mountains. With innocent curves and cute hand writing of hers, it read – “Daddy please come back.”
17th August 1999
A fellow friend who happened to be from my town had called to check on me. Before he hung up he pointed me something which buggers my flow of emotions. He said that she was seeing some other guy in the town - a fellow mate of hers in the arts class. I was taken aback a little however it hardly quavered me. I remembered the day when she had talked about trust.
"Trust is so important in a relationship. It can open ones heart wide enough to consume all the trouble on this planet in no time. If trust stands at your door then let it usher in because it is something that you wouldn’t regret inviting as it would give you a new horizon, the one which has a broader perspective, to think. If you trust your partner then no matter what happens, nothing in this mundane world can keep you apart."
It really doesn't matter anymore because I trust her. Haven't we shared some memorable moments of our lives together? Nothing can surpass the fervour and the special bond that we have. Nothing in this world could possibly surmount the love we are a part of. All I know is that ‘I love her true’ and she loves me too. What could possibly go wrong?
1st September 1999
They are shifting me to my house tomorrow. They said it is like a miracle the way my body has recovered so quickly from the dislocations. I take it as a sign from Him probably giving me the strength to be with my love. I am really excited as I want to feel the warmth of my home. I want to breathe in the fresh homely air in my lungs. The pathetic pungent smell of the hospital has really messed up my sense of smell.
The plasters on my hand have been removed. My right leg however carries one. It is not that bad as I can move around slowly albeit painfully. I had written her name over the plasters, though a pretty lame thing to do, but I guess it helped me get better in no time. How happy she would be when I’ll tell her such little things.
There is so much to tell her. There are so many words, so many topics to blather on and so much love to shower. I wish I get discharged today. I can’t take it anymore. I want to be with her right now.
At my home
I had no idea how one can become the centre of attraction of one’s family so easily until today. Ever since I came in I have been served fruits of varieties, I doubt, are there in the market, sweets which I had always longed for but never got an opportunity to taste, cuisines from every corner of the earth and delicacies that were experimenting with my palate every now and then. I was like a hero when I returned. My neighbours were out on the streets with drums as if I was the cause of the triumph. I was lifted up on shoulders and was demonstrated as an artefact to those who didn’t know me. Relatives from different corners of the country came to visit me every now and then. Some scintillated things about my marriage. I blushed with her picture in my mind. I wanted to call her at once but decided to let the commotion subside.
At dusk I dialled her number. She picked up to my relief.
“Hi jaanu!” my words trickled down with love.
“Hi”
“It’s like ages I haven’t seen you”, I pointed out.
“Yeah same here! How are you?” she augmented a question.
“I’m great. The final plaster will be removed this weekend. I guess that will be a thumbs up sign for me. How about we meet the day after?”
“Okay. Wish you recuperate soon. I can’t wait to see that you are doing fine.”
“I’ll be okay if you are there by my side.”
“Okay then bye! See you on Monday.”
“Bye honey! I love thee true.”
“Yeah same here.”
I understood that there was someone at her end probably so she bailed herself out. We had developed a rapport which took care of our feelings for each other so that neither of us felt bad. These were few little things that we used to mutually fathom so as to assist each other, in order to get through the adversities that popped up every now and then, in our path of love.
FROM MY DIARY:
2nd September 1999
I am surprised to find myself elated after such a long span. Her voice seemed sweeter today. Her breath beguiled the rest. Blessed I felt when her innocence fell on my ears. I wish the moments persist but alas I am a mere man, a puppet in the hands of time, compelled to dance on His tune. The wind wouldn’t blow on my command and the rain wouldn’t shower on my nod. He keeps on manifesting every now and then that we ought to know our confinements. He defies us flatly and summons us to venture on the arena of virility although He is already aware of the consequences right from the beginning. He loves to see us vanquished. Thus we lose every now and then and curse fate forever.
I remember those days when I used to get kisses on the receiver. Such lovely voices they were. The lovely sound of her sloppy kisses used to impregnate my soul. We would often chuckle at the thought of bringing those fantasies to breathe.
There are no words that can possibly describe my feelings for her. I used to say this and she would blush if I would try to express myself in her presence. How much I love her!
I can’t wait a week. I want to see her right now.
4th September 1999
As I bring those sweet days to my memory I can remember her innocent talks on the phone. I wished to captivate those cute moments forever and so I used to pen down such special moments whenever I would come across one. Such glorious evanescent memories used to go down in my diary at once, so as to bring them alive once again in the future with ‘her’ by my side. That diary sleeps in my closet hitherto well protected and hidden from the world, the key to which lies in her hands.
There were those special occasions wherein I had a sudden urge to embrace her and kiss her because of something she said, something stupid or something innocent that left her mouth, which would never go unnoticed by me and eventually land up in that secret diary of mine.
There are so many things that I’ve kept hidden as a surprise to be unveiled in the years to come when we will be together.
5th September 1999
Tomorrow is the big day. Another one’s today. They are going to remove the last plaster. I’d love to see myself rejuvenate after a while. A dance and a run would suffice however that depends totally on my mother’s consent.
I would love to have some ‘fresh air’ tomorrow which I surmise would be gladly complied as I’ve already hinted my wish to walk freely with my legs back.
The big day is closing in and I’d do anything to make it a memorable one. The past few months had really taken a bit of me on the battleground. With me back I wish to be the same gentleman I was back in the days when we had fallen in love. I want every moment to be perfect and hence I don’t want to leave any stone unturned. I confide in my brother and so I’ve told him about tomorrow’s tryst. He is more excited than I am. He would take care of the parental jargon for me. Everything is set and I am impatient like I have never been before.
I rang her up only to find her busy in her class. However she confirmed her status for tomorrow.
I can’t wait to meet her. I am going nuts already.
THE SPECIAL DAY
I rang her once again to reassure myself that it wasn’t a dream. We decided to meet at 6 PM at a coffee shop of my choice. I dressed up at once and rechecked myself in the mirror. Bryan Adams was playing his hit single ‘Everything I do’ in the background. I imitated a few lines of my favourite movies with raised brows and dilated orbs in front of the mirror. I did my special effects move at the ‘poor’ mirror with smouldering eyes and I swear it could have shattered to pieces hadn’t my brother showed up. He gave me a mischievous grin to which I winked.
After I combed my hair for the tenth time, I sprayed the deodorant all over my body and checked my breath. I had to leave eventually as some annoyed comments started pestering my flow. All of them were from my brother remarking “Oh! C’mon!”
It was about 5:45 when I showed up at the meeting spot. I sat in the coffee bar for a while. The steward started giving me weird looks so to satiate him I gave him the “I am expecting someone” look. He didn’t mind as far as I posed as a customer to him. I stood up as I became restless and decided to exercise my legs for a while with a little stroll around.
The time read 6:15 already. My watch yanked my eyes open and seemed to scream at me “Dude Where is she?” I meekly answered it, “Be patient you stupid watch!”
6:30.No sign of her. I was calm although worry tried to squeeze itself in my brain. I decided to call her up. She picked up and mentioned that she would be there in 15. I rambled for another 10 with the “Everything’s fine” attitude. The army had taught me so many things. Undeterred demeanour was probably one of the good things.
At last there she was - My angel sent from heaven on this mundane earth. Nothing had changed about her as I was feeling the same surge to hug her and caress her. She smiled at me as she descended on the staircase to where I stood. It reminded me of my favourite scene from Titanic where Leo gets to kiss Kate's hand. Albeit the stage was same, it happened so abruptly that it washed off those memories from the movie in a jiffy.
“Sorry I’m late.” She pointed at once.
I was too dumbstruck by her presence to respond immediately.
“It’s fine.” I said and augmented –“Shall we?”
We entered the coffee bar mitigating the steward’s discomfort and at once took our seats. She pointed that she hated the smell of coffee. That came as a bummer to me but I shook it off with an “I’ll be careful now” remark.
I looked at her. Her radiance made me go back and dig in those memories from the past wherein I had allowed a sudden stream of emotion to surmount me, wherein I had pecked her lovingly, wherein I used to stare in her eyes before saying, “God how much I love you !”
I smiled at her. My romance did the talking. I watched her in disbelief still not sure if it was a dream.
“How are you honey?” I inquired.
“Good! How are you feeling now?”She asked me.
“Finally able to walk. Although it keeps me up at night......Oh! Wait there is one more thing that keeps me awake at night. Wanna guess?” I chuckled. My eyes spoke of love. They could have drenched her with my emotions had it been any other day. She concocted a mild smile.
The love stare that I used to give her didn’t make her blush this time. She seemed tensed. She looked away as if she was uncomfortable.
“.....Thy eyes......” I managed to answer meekly.
She looked down at her cell as it flashed with a message beep. I let her attend to it while I studied her face carefully. Something appeared wrong to me. Her countenance bore a stern look. It used to mean ‘trouble’, I thought, but she looked cuter with a glint of wrath on her face. I shook off my thoughts. Something tormented her. I didn’t know what.
When she was finished I became more sober.
“Are you okay?” I inquired.
“Are you aware of the fact that you didn’t call me for eight months?”She asked, out of the blue.
“What? No ......Yes!” I didn’t know what to say.
“Did you even bother to ask me if I was alright?” she shot another one at me.
“What is the matter baby? Are you alright?” Nothing made sense to me.
“Nobody cares about me. Nobody ....not even my father, my mother, my brother and not even you.... Nobody cares.” Her voice seemed to crack. She was about to cry it seemed. I shifted my chair next to hers in order to console her.
After a pause she continued, “I was so alone. I needed love. Where were you when I needed you?”
“Honey you know where I was. I know how you might have felt. I couldn’t contact you baby. My hands were tied....” I tried to explain.
“No.....You weren’t there when I needed you the most.” She was adamant.
Her cell kept on beeping meanwhile. Messages kept on disturbing her flow every now and then.
“Baby I was doing my best out there. I am really sorry. I should’ve contacted you but we were sent off for T.D. then there was this Operation .....”
She didn’t let me finish. She wasn’t interested in my story. Her recalcitrance was frustrating.
“No.....I cannot do this anymore. I just can’t. I’ve had enough. You don’t love me anymore.”
“Jaanu I know I haven’t been a good guy. Give me a chance to prove myself. I know I’ve been a jerk for not calling you. From tomorrow onwards, I’ll call you every day. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“No that’s it. I think we should call it off.”
What has gotten into her? She looked normal a few moments before. She had completely shaken my world. My dreams looked shattered to me already. Was I dreaming? If only it was a dream. I pinched myself to confirm. Ouch! That hurt me.
“What is it baby? Is there anything that you want to tell me?” My thoughts rambled towards the ‘new’ guy in her life. I could feel wrath building up in me gradually but I didn’t want her to know that I was aware of a ‘him’ in her life. I caught a glimpse of her eyes and I could easily make out the truth hiding with conviction behind the sea of excuses.
LIES ....!
There have been moments in my life where I was forced to lie ‘for her’ a gazillion times. I used to bluntly lie in front of my parents even though I knew the fact I wasn’t good at it. I had lost my parent’s trust. The good in me was stifled big time. I didn’t want to lose her and so I lied all the time. Those lies used to stare hard at my conscience and used to defy the same saying, “What cha gonna do about it?” while I used to timidly shut my eyes always endeavouring to dodge reality.
I had always been helpless. I used to discuss with her how much I hate lies. How abominable they appear when they squeeze out every part from you that is ‘good’. Why can’t someone be truthful? How bad things could go when you embrace the truth? Is it really that difficult to stay hidden under the aegis of veracity? I had once decided – “come what may I would never lie in my entire life to my family and friends”. I have been embracing the maxim ever since. I am always ready for consequences of speaking the truth. The aftermath hardly matters now as I have become audacious.
I used to get hurt when she lied because I didn’t want her to experience the dusky part of one’s soul. I didn’t want her to walk on my path. Lying to your loved ones is the worst thing one can do in this evanescent life. I’d never want that for her. I’d never want her to repent. I’d never want her to hate herself for something. However what bothered me the most was the fact that she had taken the shelter of lies once again. Her veracity-umbrella stood stained.
She was hurting me by lying to me, hurting me more as she didn’t care if I was offended and hurting me like hell by manipulating the truth so as to make her ‘issue’ the ultimate cause so as to tie the albatross on my neck. I didn’t want to play along. Her behaviour was smothering me. Yet I let her finish.
“I can’t just go on like this. I need to break-up. I knew from the beginning that it wouldn’t work out between us. I had that premonition. Had we started with a close friendship it wouldn’t have ended like this.”
My thoughts decided to play. “Wait! What? Does she even know what love is? Is it just meant for a temporary pleasure and then to be forgotten forever? Is it that ethereal?”
“Jaanu! I swear to God that I’ll make it work. I love you true baby and I always will. I know I’ve been bad for not calling my baby but I promise I’ll make it up to you. Don't do this to me. I’ll die without you.”
With an impulse I realized and reconsidered my last lines. I would die without her by my side. “She is my breath. How can I part with her?” If she leaves me I would be bereft of my soul. I would become a walking dead. A soulless body forced to loiter around in the purgatory of the cruel life albeit its crudeness would hardly matter then.
“What am I going to do without you?” I tried to say but I choked.
Her eyes were screaming out loud – “Why don’t you just let go of me? Please I can’t love you anymore. Why are you being so adamant?”
I decided to let go even though I couldn’t come out of the shock but the desperation certainly was getting on my nerves. Her eyes used to talk. They used to tell me how profound her love was for me. But they were talking gibberish that day. Unfortunately that day wasn’t mine.
I sat there defeated. My eyes failed to withhold the tears so they involuntarily oozed out. She understood that I wasn’t going to retaliate again. Her countenance manifested contentment like a warrior who had just vanquished his enemy. I tried to contemplate her situation. It seemed to me she must have felt guilty for keeping both ends alive. So she needed to set things right for the good of her conscience, so that her inner self doesn’t hate her. She couldn’t have possibly continued loving both of us and probably ‘he’ being the shinier pebble was picked from the shore. There were so many solutions to our problems but all appeared worthless when put against ‘him’ in her heart.
I could have told her so many things but I decided to keep mum. It’s not fair to break someone’s heart at least not in my dictionary. I could have asked her to tell me the truth. I could have asked her to be honest with me for the last moment and make it easier for me to gobble the facts. I could have asked her to lie to me once again for the last time and say “I love you true” to me coz boy it sounded like heaven to me.
I looked at her for the last time. My baby! She looked like an angel to me.
I wish I could tell her everything. I wish I could tell her about the reason why I couldn’t call her. I wish I could tell her about those little things that kept me burning in the war or in the duel with life. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. She was blindfolded with the strip of love and that love certainly didn’t come from my attic. I should leave it that way. At least I would part with happy memories of her like the one picture of hers where she used to smile at me- as she always did.
I stood up walked about clumsily with unsure steps then left the spot. Her last words, as far as I could bring back to my memory, were –“Goodbye”.
I headed straight towards my home and found my brother waiting for me.
My brother read my thoughts. I hugged him so tightly and cried in his arms like I had never cried before.The pain was too much to handle. I am a mere human after all. I am made up of flesh and bones. My heart’s fragile. I am fragile. All those sweet memories caused an insincere gush in me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to think. I couldn’t possibly shut my brain all of a sudden. I didn’t realize how I fell asleep in my brother’s arm that day.She kept haunting me in my dreams that night.
It was a ceremony wherein I could see her standing near the porch talking to a fellow mate of hers. She was dressed in white. I could see her glimmer from that distance as if she was the only thing to focus. She waved at me when she saw me. I smiled at her. I began my steps towards her when suddenly out of the blue she kissed the guy standing next to him. I fell on my knees. The tears burst out of my orbs as if they were constrained by a dam of patience. When I looked back at her I could still figure out her smooching with the silhouette that was standing next to her on the porch. I dug my face deep into my hands as if I had been touched by reality for a second. I tried to look up and when I did she was gone. I retreated and on the way back I saw my mother standing there. I wept in her arms as I had never before.
“Kill me mom ........ Kill me ....I don’t want to live like this. Let me die. Please kill me!”
While she tried to console me I realized that everything present there, which appeared so real, started withering away. I tried to get hold of the things but the flicker from reality brought me into the lively world once again. As it did, it left the impressions of the mist on my face.
I was wide awake now. I discovered myself in tears. I sat near the window which overlooked the brilliance of the world. I made sure that nobody was watching me and then I cried for another half an hour with ‘her’ in my mind.
FROM MY DIARY:
26th November 1999
I’ve to survive albeit I am wounded. I’ve to live, keep on living, meet thousands of faces, appreciate wonders and learn to live with them.
I can see her countenance. Yes her smiling countenance, her orbs staring at me, blushing at times, affection written all over her face, asking me every now and then whenever my eyes made her uncomfortable, “Why are you looking at me like this?” I can remember myself saying – “God how much I long for you! What am I going to do without you?”
What am I going to do without her? What am I doing without her? She is not in my life anymore and I am forced to brood. All I am left with are ‘impressions’ and all I venture to do is to hold these impressions and caress them tightly even though I am aware of the ugly truth - ‘abstract notions can’t be captivated’.
If the latter were untrue, hadn’t my affection left me, bereft me alone to walk barefoot on the scorching dunes of life where emotional mirages appear only to give you a temporary joy, thus eyeing you directly in your orbs, defying you and bawling out loud – “You are screwed buddy!” Augmenting to the list of tortures, painful blisters on your naked feet appear thus giving you a ‘pleasant’ company.I can picture myself sitting in the coffee shop with her by my side. Now all I can think about is how she had concocted, to fake it. How she had covered up the blunder in a relationship committed by her under the pretext of my petty mistakes! How bluntly she had lied! Oh how good she was at that! Was all of that fake? Was nothing true? What about all those moments we spent together? I had once read this on a t-shirt -“Out of all your lies you said to me, I love you was my favourite.”
It makes me wonder why not for a single moment she cared to give a thought to those lovely moments we spent together? Why not for a single moment did she remember me holding her hand? Maybe a mere thought could have altered her decision, could have altered her predetermined conviction to break up, and could have altered her flawed conscience probably. Maybe she could’ve never left me then.
Still the moments of the farewell come revisiting me. The picture of me asking her not to leave me like that, to give me a chance to manifest her that every part of my body speaks of love for her, to impart me an opportunity to show her the affection I had in my heart, and how much I had cried too when I wasn’t able to keep in touch.
Whenever the emotional part in me gets tingled with affection, it reminds me of her countenance staring in my eyes, the serene she, with her mute look that said a thousand words, without actually opening her mouth.
2nd January 2000
I’ve finally decided to discontinue my services in the army. I’d rather become something else. It was a Herculean task to bring that up in front of my father. However I managed to pull it through. Now with the odour of war finally disintegrating into fragments I feel like I can eventually breathe like a normal person. I want to lead a normal life albeit the reason has left me soulless.
When I ponder over those little unsaid things, those lovely love-stares and those innocent moments that I had tried to capture in my diary I wonder what happened to all that love? Where did it go? How did it vaporize in the air? I had wished to surprise her with my collection in the future. How sorry I feel for myself! That time never came. That diary still sleeps in my closet - intact.
I dig up memories from the past just to relive those moments, although the irony that it carries shatters me every now and then.
I’d hold her hand and say, “I would never leave you alone.”
She would look into my eyes and would say, “Me neither.”
