Your Memories Would Last Forever

I don’t know how long I lived, but in the span of a moment, I lost everything. A coin may have two facets, but life has many. So many and they are so difficult to understand. But would the world ever wonder what my feelings were when I first looked into his eyes, how bravely I accepted my fate and how fiercely I loved?

Moments. There are moments that may arrive unexpectedly as an accident, incident, or a mistake in our life that defines us; moments - which seemed undecided back then, the moments we keep going back to, the moments which we desire to live again, the moments which were predestined to arrive in our lives, moments which we call ‘memories’. My life before he entered was undefined, meaningless, simple and just days passing by. But now, after him, it was just… unbelievable. 

There has been adventure, love, romance, passion, heartbreak, betrayal, horror, humiliation, blood and death. There have been happy moments of togetherness and of longingness, but we exist in moments—nothing else. 

He was my everything. He is someone who has a very deep and undefined meaning. Life is never the same. Life doesn’t have a single meaning - it is described by every single person who experiences life - but it’s never the same. Every single person has a different experience of Life - and that’s what makes it different.

I remember when I garlanded him, how lost we were in each other, how extremely happy we were—how it was so new, to experience young love. How exciting it was, to be lost in love. Those moments were pure bliss.

Until I was treated like an object and divided between five warriors—him and his brothers.

He was silent.

How he entered my room when he was not supposed to and accepted twelve years of exile.

He didn’t protest.

He never wrote a single letter to me all those years. All I got was his silence.

He married three times. Sought solace in some other womens’ arms. He broke my heart. And yet, all I got was his silence. 

He brought his fourth wife to Indraprastha, maybe to show me my place in his life. As if he was mocking me. I, once again, received his silence.

I broke down. I know that he was angry with me because I married five men. But, was it my fault? Wasn’t he silent, too? 

He consoled me. I reconciled. 

He made three women mothers before me, even though I was his first wife. He remained silent. 

His brother gambled him and me. He was silent. 

A great war was fought. His stony silence prevailed.

But, silence is not golden anymore.

On a full-moon night, he visited my chamber. He embraced me with all his heart. We cried our eyes out, remembering our loss. 

That memory is my most cherished. 

As I fell down the snow-clad peak on my way to heaven, he didn’t turn back. I looked at his retreating figure. There was no remorse, no sadness, because deep down, I still knew that the passion was still alive. He still loved me.

I thought his silence was just silence, but his silence spoke and conveyed his feelings to me, this was his way. 

Feeling grateful, I closed my eyes, living in that moment, in his memories…