Just as it has escaped me

Posted by Arpit Gupta
November 19, 2017

NOTE: This post has been self-published by the author. Anyone can write on Youth Ki Awaaz.

Day 1:

The place unfolded to realization gradually. Daffodils still walked around the city in my mind. I entered a small theatre room. Young girls with painted eyes in black dresses scattered all around. Golden lights in the ceiling above cast a shadowy glow on the stage and spectators around.

People poured into the shadows, respectfully and silently taking places. Politely making places for others. No curtains just a stage.

The play runs around me. And I was suddenly caught by the glimpse of her, the hair that fell around her bare shoulders had a fruity smell of rain, like a waterfall. She screamed, shouted and a long whip from a thin pale hand was beaten against her. I don’t remember the theme of the play (maybe of some social issue). But I remember how people polished their glasses at the end of play for yet another evening’.

Kinsmen, allow me to greet you. I salute you invisibly.

After the show, sitting outside on a bench near a food stall, my attention had been caught. I couldn’t help but steal glances. Her beautiful expressions, slender body and her black dress. She nods animatedly listening to her crew seated around her. Her smile, her worries and her glittering eyes left a feeling of her presence being nestled inside my heart. Her strong cheek bones, the curl of her shoulder. Deep loving. How laughter shook her. Perhaps I found myself in a futile search. For beauty and love. Love. What if my fingers trace her face? And what should she feel as my fingers trace her face looking at me? I was even astonished as how much I wanted her next to me, then. Her hair flowed down to her waist. I couldn’t help but watch her. Knowing I’ll see her again someday.

I want to take you with me. Will you come?’

And she didn’t answer as I never did ask. And all this pours down a futile night where I could not sleep. Light the darkness of the night and let your heart stir up again. Weep now. It’s all the same. I learnt to live.


Day 2 Morning:
I woke up with some words that sounded like, “When was the last time I talked to her? Is she still gonna hang up on me?” Last time I heard from her words were like “You should not call me ever again.” How easy was that for her? She moved on switching relationships. But I was never able to forget her. I pretended to have not caught her words. And sunlight fell from the window on the chair on my right. And it was like a spotlight of her absence in my life. And the ceiling fan that always hummed​ in my mind mourned for a moment. Her earrings. Her eyes. Meanwhile….I stared at my glass of hot chocolate which I placed before her. And then I realized that she is gone….She has never actually been a part of my life. And then I mouthed “What if…” and spoke something even not making sense to myself. Then I lifted my cup and took a sip to make the most arrogant toast ever. I walked away.
Day 2 Evening:
I had been walking for hours. I walked across the city, past the homes, the shops, the meeting places, the docks, the temples. Somehow I felt a bridge under my feet uniting distinguishable and every individual anguish and struggle. Here, under the lamplight, I wonder whether I have been cursed or healed. The people on the street. Every one of them different and yet the same. A child runs, a mother calls. A group of men carry a heavy elaborate structure of steel. Two schoolgirls pass by. The child is back, with his father this time. These things you see everyday. To watch in leisure. To never consider or question. And yet something escapes. Just as it has escaped me today. Should I retrace the path to offer her another sip of my hot chocolate? The darkest streets are home to the deepest of secrets. The worn-out walls that stood through a window somewhere. People will watch you with suspicion. Something happened. They turned to look for once. But the thing escaped them. Just as it has escaped me.

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