A Lone long hair – where does it come
from, I had no idea. But, obviously it had invoked my thoughts. It wasn’t the
first time I had ever encountered single long hair, still it caught strings of
my heart, as though it was something of a wonder. That night, when I entered my
bedroom I switched on lights and thoughtfully glanced at neat and tidy bed. It
was an unintended glance, though still carried a sense of morbidity. Along with
eyes, body too suddenly felt burdened with tiredness and clothes. White cotton
shirt on my torso reveal the monochromatic state of my heart and an old faded
denim blue pair of jeans narrated the exhaustiveness of my life’s journey.
Slowly, I opened all buttons of the
shirt and let it fall on floor, then took out jeans and dropped it at the spot
where shirt had, as though had been preparing for a battle, and, wrapped a
loincloth around my waist like a primitive. While staring at the discarded
clothes, I sat down on my bed and stretched hands rearward. When I fall back
and my back met bed I brought my hands forward to see them. There, somewhere in
the right hand’s fingers I discovered a lone long hair tangled caused by its
silky smooth curls. Its edge shone like a twinkling star due to light falling
on from a very special angle. I marveled at its curly beauty. Being a dead long
hair, it appeared so alive to me that it brought life to my dead emotions. I
felt a bloom inside and with it the very obvious question – how it reached my
lonely bed - just vanished. I didn’t even bother to relate it to some identity,
since within I felt it belonged to me.
I turned around to glance at the
corner from where it caught my fingers. It was a corner edge of the bed, where
a veiled gap, between mattress and wooden platform, existed. It unveiled the
memories of lost times. Her young face shone in that room exactly the way this
lone long hair had. We were young and had a long life waiting to be lived before
us. She sat on bed, wore nothing except my full-sleeved white shirt, with two
buttons from the top wide-open affording way to bosoms, and had long open hairs
like a twinkling night. In loincloth, I sat on a chair adjacent to study table,
where around the typewriter white papers with black syllables scattered. Some
of them bore, poems I wrote for her, some bore her sketch, some bore short
stories depicting her mighty beauty that would even cause God to feel jealous.
Room was filled with her aroma and our love. For the first time in life, I had
understood and felt purity. In those moments, the room was the purest place in
entire universe, where existed pure love and untouched aroma. Innocent smile,
the only expression she wore around her lips and it reflected in the form of
gleam in her dark eyes.
I stood up to touch her face. With one
hand, gently grabbed long hairs at the back of her neck and with other I softly
touched her left cheek. She closed eyes as though in surrender and waited with
fairly open lips for my fingers, so that she could plant a kiss on its tips.
Slowly, my other hand slide down to her slim waist and soon the hand on her
cheek joined it. As soon as our lips melt in, I gently pressed her waist by
thumps at either side just to find ourselves tangled. Love rained like never
before. Never ever in any corner of universe, the souls met each other the way
ours met in those moments. With folded eyes, I watched her melting in me,
taking my passion to the heights I ever imagined.
Eventually, I opened my eyes just to
find myself alone in my bed while that lone long hair still held on to my
fingers just to glint more. I felt as though I didn’t sleep nevertheless, lived
those moments. Tiredness persisted in me but eyes felt no burden. With lone long
hair in my fingers, I stood up and walked up to the dressing mirror. There, I
saw it to its length while taking notice of its shade at different length.
Inside the mirror, I found her sitting on my bed, smiling at me, wearing my
white cotton shirt, which, last night, I left on the floor, and laughing out at
my grey short hairs.
Image: Courtesy to google image search.
