Lets Get Back to Love

Lets Get Back to Love

Love… something that never comes with choice in the age of choices although we still wish for the same. Today I have realized this very fact, not only the fact but also fact of my life. Well, nothing has left to talk about, so thought of put down the left over feelings on paper as they are not meant to be said but understood or felt. So many times, I have led astray myself on to wrong paths and rendered delusion of nothing but a king of own realm, that was nowhere but resided in my own beliefs. Sitting alone, having eyes locked up with window seeing nothing but the vacuum of own life and fighting with own obstinacy to turn back from this point before it is too late, but wouldn’t it be already late  or am I just giving myself again a delusion?

I left her because she was nowhere near to the benchmark I have set for beauty. She was simple, a normal next-door girl. It was I, who had dreamt of having world’s most beautiful lover but when she got in things had changed but did not last longer. Sick, unreal dream took over my head and senses, and I left her for nothing. She was innocent; she loved me more than at least I loved anyone in my whole life. I was screw-head and screwed her from every possible meaning. I never answered her calls, I always sought to avoid her, and one day I received a message where she accepted her defeat in love and declared me a victor but today when life turned out nothing but hollow I have realized that it was her triumph and my defeat. Her innocent voice, her giggle on silly things once used to take sick out of me but today I yearn for it. She used to ask every single detail about day in day out and I used to get sick of it but today no one is around to ask if I am dead or alive. I used to get angry with her when she would talk silly but today I am the silliest. It was a long distance relation, started at some social networking site and carried over to chatting very soon. Initial days were exciting, we used to chat for hours, talking over schooling, college, friends, activities, hobbies, future life and many more. And, one day when we both felt the urge to listen to voice of one another we exchanged our contact numbers and successfully hit the next stage of trust and friendship. Then, phone bills began soaring up and sleeping hours began squeezing down. I found someone who would call me early morning so that I would not miss my bus to office and breakfast both, someone had begun taking care of me from 100’s of Kilometers away.

I had stopped setting up morning alarms and begun getting calls from office’s dispatch department for the collection of parcels of various sizes and shapes. Sometime chocolates, sometime shirt, sometime wallet, and sometime bracelet and I, who have never had any gifts not even on birthdays since no one ever bothered to remember the date, began getting gifts after gifts and reached at cloud number nine. Suddenly life bore with full of gifts and surprises. She proved to be my Cinderella and Senorita both. Soon, we decided to meet and she got ready to come over. I began counting days and with each day, the excitement of seeing her piled up. Our talks also became more and more intimate with each hour day, I was dying to see her, and she was dying to see me. For two days, I wandered into the market to select a unique gift for her but could not find one. At last, an evening before her arrival, I gave my sense of choosing gift a last chance and stepped into a toy-shop  I know, for choosing a gift for adult girl stepping into the toy shop was nowhere far from insaneness, I had no idea why I stepped into that shop but soon my vision caught the glimpse of most adorable teddy bear of the world (in her words). It was light pink, with cute eyes and nose about three and half feet in size, it was perfect for her.

She was coming from Bangalore and I had reached at bus stand an hour before the arrival of bus. With legs shuddering, eyes restless, I was looking at wristwatch in every few seconds and a bouquet of red roses kept moving back and forth in right hand. I felt as if my dream of falling into love like Raj and Anjali was soon going to be over and I felt the same lurch in my voice when I first said Hi to her after she stepped out from bus with a small bag dangling over her left shoulder. I presented her the bouquet of red roses but with trembling hands. She laughed and we proceed to hire an auto. I could not dare to stare at her for long time; my eyes couldn’t stand for more than 5 seconds at her face as if it might offend her. We reached at my place, she was settling down and I went into the kitchen and put tea on gas stove. I came back to found her sitting on sofa with a glittering wristwatch in her hand. I knew it was another gift from her. She gave it to me but her eyes somewhere stuck at the floor. As soon as I held that watch she turned around and asked me in low voice, “I need to take shower, where is bathroom?” she was ready with her clothes in hands so I led her to bathroom.

Tea was ready and waiting along with me for her to appear in the hall. With wet hairs, water droplets traversing through temple and cheeks she appeared. I was awestruck and probably this was the first time I stared at her until she got embarrassed and asked me, “What are you looking at?” I shrugged, “You are looking great.” She came closer and sat next to me. I handed her the hot cup of tea but she put it down. I was nervous and excited simultaneously, did not know what to do, so began taking sip of tea and unaware from the fact that it was still too hot to burn my tongue. Slowly I put down my cup of tea and a disgusted expression covered my face. She knew what just happened. However, she said nothing just smiled a little. Unfortunately, the geyser was not working and the winter was on its high, probably that day was the coldest of season. Therefore, apparently, she held little shiver and eventually told me, “It’s very cold.” I replied, “Yes, it is.” she asked, “Can I hold you?” and before I could say anything, she not only held me but also hugged me. That hug was very warm, she held me for a while in same position. After sometime, I put my arms around her and pressed a little to tighten it. I could imagine her smiling face even with closed eyes.

After tea, we went into our room watched a movie on my PC by holding hands, gently. Then I cooked her food and obviously, she helped me in it and given few good tips too. In between, whenever we felt urge to feel each other we hugged, we kissed, we held each other. After lunch she caressed my hairs and I hers.  She brought her bag from hall to my room and opened a big family album where she made me introduced to her entire family. Then she asked, “Don’t you have your family album.” I thought for a while and replied, “Sorry, I have no pics with me.” She understood disappointment in my voice and changed the topic with a blink of an eye. She began revealing the top-secret stories of her school and college life and explained everything about her family and its history.

Next day, she had to leave and I went to see her off. She kept holding my hand until the conductor gave the last call. She watched me from the window and I knew what she had in her head, she wanted me to turn around to at least show my feelings but I didn’t do it. She reached Bangalore and I missed her that whole night. Life again came to normal, nothing exceptional it’s just that I have filled with energy. Frequencies of phone calls begin diminishing and complain began mounting up. I started imparting false reasons and useless office related commitments but the fact was I had begun losing interest in her. I was in tension, for me it became important to understand the reason of such sudden disinterest. I wanted time to understand but she wanted that time of mine.

I wanted not to lose my first love for no sensible reasons although with each passing day things became worse. I began feeling guilty in telling her I love you. The very three words she told me with so ease and I felt the same level of difficulty in repeating those as if they are some tongue twister. However, it was I, who was twisted under the false dreams and dilemma, not the tongue. For me, once, the love was most important thing today turned out a useless emotion that I had held responsible for wasting time, money, life, and purpose. Eventually after months of avoidance, she set me free by sending that very message where she accepted the truth of losing me entirely. I felt good but with time soon, I started calling her, but now she had stopped picking up my calls. For hours, I tired her number but never got chance to hear her voice all again. I had been declared convict for the crime of love.

Now after two years, I received a call from dispatch department of my office to collect a parcel. I was amazed to know that who has sent me parcel after two years. I rushed to the dispatch department and collected the parcel. Its sender was none but She. I quickly rushed back to my desk and opened it to know the surprise but this time it’s not surprise but a shock. It was her marriage invitation and a letter attached to it. I couldn’t dare to open that marriage invitation card but opened that letter. The letter was weary and seems old almost a year and two. It had patches of water actually, the salty water normally eyes carry it for such moments. I read it completely and the salty water from my eyes dropped onto letter and met again. This time our tears met and dried out over her letter. The ink began spreading but each word still intact on that letter.

 She knew love even that time, it helped her in moving ahead in life and apparently she was marrying someone else but I, who was standing alone, left behind and still yearn for same love which I never realized on time.

Poems of Life....A Story

I didn't know who was she, where she came from and why I met her. It was just that I met her at one of my regular lonely nights. It’d been a routine to wander at a forsaken beach of Arabian Sea – warm but soothing, turbulent but peaceful, scattered but coherent. With night water preceded to shores with more and more force, I would always go and sit there, since there, in darkness I perceive life I have never had. Darkness everywhere, even at the proximate island, though, from miles away honking of ships could be heard so easily as if someone from the past calls a name. My life, similar to that milieu – days occupied with lots of work in office and nights lonesome, just like that beach. That night, bare foot I walked few yards at the shoreline but couldn't make it to long distance. I never walked until the end of this beach or I never knew if the beach had any end or not. I just sat down on the cold sand and felt it in my spine. A sense of end and peace crossed my heart, files flying underneath my head suddenly vanished, and eventually, I became empty like a hollow abandoned seashell. I could hear echo inside me; it’s nothing but my own voice talking to beach just like ocean currents which would hit the shore and return disappointed. I heard heavy wind quietly saying something in my ear but as always I couldn't understand it, not even the single word. After all, I didn't speak know its language. Fingers and thumbs began acting in sync and soon I realized they were calculating something –calculating my entire life. A simple mathematics of losses and gains. My balance was zero, neither life had given anything to me, nor had I given anything to it.

I glanced around to divert my focus but found nothing significant enough to get hold of my attention. Through t-shirt, wind kept knocking at my chest at regular intervals to know if someone resides in that barren heart but just like ever, it got no reply. This way, I fought with the beach and it fought with me. We both asked questions and seek for answers until I would get tired and leave. That night, I decided to walk until the end of beach. The end where I might have met myself, I might have found oneself. I was already tired from seeking my lost me. Nothing was as desirable as I was; nothing was as lost as I was. By putting feet in water, I desired to drown and end this search for forever, but thought of suicide was not enough to let me go just like that. Life sometimes give whirls that even ocean itself can’t handle although I kept walking, holding it at my soul. When I approached the end, I found someone sitting in darkness on a big wet rock. I first stopped for a while then without any thought moved ahead. I pretended as if I saw nothing, but that image didn’t act likewise, it responded in voice, “Hey Raj, how long do you want me to wait for you?” I astounded, my tongue couldn’t move but her’s very well, “come sit with me, I want to show you something.” My senses stopped responding and I was on my own.

Again, I stopped and looked at that blur, dark image with conscience and found only a woman sitting on a rock with untied hairs, free clothes, which were flowing with wind. I thought for a while and sat down where I was and again ignored her. She stood up with elegance and came over. I still ignored her, but she said, “What happened raj? You always wanted to talk to me, you always wanted to share many things with me, and now when I am with you, you ignoring me, what’s the matter?” this instance I responded, “Who are you? Do I know you?”

Her voice carried a peculiar clam and seemed familiar but still, I couldn't make out, who was she, “I am the one who was in your dreams, I am the one who was along with you always, I am the one whom you have been seeking at this beach since prolong and I, sitting at this end waited for you to come over.” I asked, “Are you life?” she smiled, “then who do you think am I?”

Suddenly, a wave came closer, I fetched back my feet but she set her hands on my knees and I felt as if she had stopped them, then and there. Cold water kissed them and went back. That touch compelled me to close the eyes and in that state I saw her clearly. She was as beautiful as ever, sat an inch above ground and I could feel her breath in mine. Hairs, as long as wind and face carried simplicity of flowers. My closed eyes revealed everything that darkness of that night had hidden in it.

As soon as when I opened eyes, she asked, “So, now you believe me?”

“Yes I do.” I replied in a spellbound voice.

I looked at her for a while and she was intact. Her dominance, her aroma, her zeal had occupied that particular part of the beach. Water got illuminated and shown my life to us as if a movie. It was my childhood when I met the girl named Sohni. This name had very specific meaning – gold and why she got that name, because of her golden hairs, the long golden hairs, she was half-European half-Indian. My family was migrated to Estonia when I was not even born. She was my first and only friend in the community school. The migration was the result of post independence Indo-Soviet marriage. Father liked Estonia so much in the initial days that he decided to die there but parented me as an Indian. While, Sohni, she only had Indian name since in all aspect she was Estonian. Every morning she would come to our house to pick me up for school on her little bicycle, on which we never sat together except once when she collapsed it with a tree. Every morning, on our way to school, she would share her dreams, and half of them were about my weird Indian thinking and me. Sometimes, I too wished to tell her about my dreams but could never steal a chance from her to express them. She, a poetess since birth, and it was she who made such artistic thing a daily life necessity for me. She used to read poems for me in the free time. Most of her poems were in Estonian and my Estonian was as bad as her Hindi, but her poetic voice would take direct path to my heart, hence language never felt as barrier.

She was an exceptional soul- full of life. Her understanding was above all philosophies. The poems she recited were all inspired from nature, bird chirping, wind, and many more things. She would always imagine herself a bird in poems and wished to fly beyond limits of anything even god. I silently listened to each word and watched her playful eyes which played in sync with syllable. Life, living heaven in itself allowed me to learn life from her. She turned out my mentor and one fine morning I lost her. When, at the wish of her mother whole family moved from that eastern part of Europe to the West. I waited for her at home but she didn't appear and that day I went to school alone. I went to her place in the evening but found no one and then someone told me that they left the country.

Now I left with no option but to start life all again, with new things. However, I felt her presence everywhere in every aspect of my life. Be it in water, be it in bed, be it in food, be it in wind, be it in birds chirping, be it in flowers. Whenever I would touch anything, I find myself humming lines of her unnamed poems. I wished I could have gone away from her influence but how, after all, she had given shape to it. Years passed but her poems hadn't, they become eternal part of my life. I hum them wherever I would get chance. And, one day while humming I opened door at the knock of postman. He was carrying a post for me. My name was written in some familiar handwriting hence I quickly opened it. It was a letter from destiny, which, once again awarded a chance to meet her. It was her marriage invitation and besides a letter attached to it, in which she had asked me to be her best man.

I decided to fly to west and eventually managed to reach at venue. She appeared in the long corridor of church in creamy-white marriage gown. Her hairs now appeared more golden than ever and she looked more beautiful than any other beauty of the world. She caught my presence in the crowd and I came out to accompany her as best man until the dice. As soon as I held her hand she slowly said, “You are still as Indian as you were.” I smiled and led her to dice. So many things were there in me but words nonexistent. In my breath I began humming the last poem she read to me a day before leaving Estonia. She looked at me with familiar expression, which I had preserved in my memories for years. She knew what I was humming and besides she began humming it so slowly that only we two could hear and enjoy the words.

She took vows of marriage and reached next stage of life. In the marriage party, she raised toast for her childhood days and again read a poem. After every line, she looked at me the way she used to in our childhood and jumped to next line after I blinked my eyes. With every line, her voice was being filled with lump that only I knew. From Estonia, only I was invited for marriage. I couldn't understand why she did so. Why, all of a sudden, after this many years she sent a letter and asked me to be her best man. So many questions and so many people around, and raised toast for her forthcoming marriage life. I was the first to left party and went back to Estonia.

My life had turned out miserable with time and my family decided to return to India. I visited home of my forefathers and heard their stories. A house surrounded with coconut trees and at distance of one kilometer around there was a forsaken beach, which was an old-age home for boats. One day a post-man appeared at our home, he asked for me. He carried a post, it was from Estonia, and a good friend of mine had sent it to me. With it, another post was attached. It was about someone’s funeral, I looked at the name, and a jolt passed through my heart. It stopped working for a while. Sohni was no more part of this world and I began humming her last poem again. Now, every year I go to west to present flower at her grave. With her, I also lost the life that she once had gifted me in the form of poems. Life turned out monotonous, nothing more than a routine.

Water showed my whole life to us. While tears rested at brink of eyelashes, she asked, “Why didn't you let her go?”

I replied, “Why is it necessary to let go someone like her?”

“It’s not the matter of choice, it’s the way of life, and you can’t hold anyone for your entire life. It’s certain that those who came in your life will someday depart.” She said.

“But I don’t want it.” I replied.

“There exists no life which is termed as stable. The only stable thing is your existence until you die.” She argued.

“But I am dying.” I said.

“Certainly, however, your existence will remain un-intact until your last breath. But do you really want to die carrying emptiness the way you carried it while living? I bet, certainly not. So better, let her go, live in peace. From the heaven she would smile at you in satisfaction.” She said while looking away.

“How come I let go just like that when I know she was part of me since I didn't even know the meaning of it. I recite her poems every night in loneliness at this beach.” I argued.

“I know, I heard you so many times singing those poems but you lost their meaning, you never understood them. They were full of life. They constitute the real meaning of it. They were joyful and always conveyed – Let go what you can’t hold, let allow new things to flow, let me enter in your joy let me go with your sorrow.”

Those lines belonged to her poem, a poem that I have forgotten in the gust of time. I look towards horizon and saw the sun coming out to scare away darkness. Light conquered night and in that light, I looked at her. She was Sohni. Morning light made her hairs look more golden all again. She smiled the same smile that she did on her day of marriage.

She glowed divine and said, “Raj, let me go, I can’t stay here with you anymore, let me go….it’s been a long time” and disappeared just as the night had.

By Rajveer ...