“Happy Birthday, my proud girl” – he whispered gently into my ear.
I looked at him drowning deep into his eyes full of affection and ardour. He in turn raised one of his dark thick eye brows and gave a sarcastic smile. That smile, the smile that had had a healing power in me. He then leaned a little more and kissed me on my forehead.
“How absolute, qualified and alluring time seems to be with you!” – I confessed looking keenly into his eyes.
What else could I have probably done? He was that passion of mine which even time couldn’t help requiting. It was almost a decade since the pre-last time that I had seen him and not to my surprise nothing much notable ever changed in him since then. He was all the same introvert guy with high frequencies and tolerances upon ups and downs in survival. He was a man of words, a gesture of possibility against fate and an emotion of soul for me. He was the zenith of my existence and ecstasy to my fantasies. But, life maintains its own balance sheet calculating the wheels of time, journeying back and pro, making future all unpredictable and uncomprehending. That is life I guess; it strikes you worst, you are most vulnerable at!
I turned my head up to look at the vast divine sky just to emerge back from my thoughts. The stars were brightening high, the moon was smiling back at me, the sparklers bursting firecrackers up above the sky and the man of my choice made the eve of that Diwali night all illuminating, memorable and worth reminiscing for rest of the living hours.
“The night is growing dark, we must go back” – he again muttered; this time with more specific ideology to end the phase of intensity and intimacy that was growing between us. Pressing my nails hard into the palm of right hand fist, I said – “yes!”
For the last time I had the view with all the consciousness and eagerness to grasp the vision-desiring life through my eyes. I stood up from the dine and went closer to the arcade to grasp and sense the beauty of lake-side vibe in the chilling November, where we sailed in the most providential instances of time that had grown within ourselves over the years.
He paid the bill while I threw the shrivelled pepal (Ficus religiosa) leaf I had scribbled something on a few moments ago, into the lake.
And then we left, leaving the leaf that said – “fatal mistakes mistaken by fate” into the aimless static water body for its destiny to reveal.
Everybody clapped as I finished reading the last chapter of my book. My smile further broadened around elevating up till my cheeks to hear the sound of applause and suddenly life happened!
I woke up from a catnap on a tiring mid week afternoon realizing that the client had finished his presentation on ‘Stockholm Conference and How India can be Benefited from it.’ He looked at me for the remarks I was to give on his hardwork while all I could do was to smile back at him and clap for the same.
Over the years, a lover died in me to paint a story of a writer but the harsh realities of corporate world successfully ensured to kill her in the pursuit of expectations that society overburdened with!