“Hostel to college, college to hostel, a laborious session of technical classes, college life is heading towards a monotonous routine. After toiling hard for two years, I never expected this sort of life in the college. Life in colleges is fun (at least as shown in our flamboyant cinema. Canteens, girls masti all around)”. Standing in the scorching sun, thoughts jostled my head against my heart, pondering over the decision to study in this college. A feeling of guilt amid native nostalgia made the sun hotter than it was. Her sudden appearance jolted me out of this useless reverie, as she came walking, briskly, books held in an obvious position, pinned to her budding bosoms, kajal visible on the edges of lucid eyes, a sky blue suit stitched to perfection, affirming the revelation by calculated concealability. I cannot think of anything special in her that held my vision for that moment, but there must have been something that held it , my eyes deciding not to blink, fighting against the drop of trickling sweat, as this moment may not come again. I saw her lowering her eyes in order to avoid the conspicuous glance. Perhaps it was not her, but the moment I saw her, that made this meeting a tryst, a perpetual event of my destiny. As I was tired of searching for solace in the unexpected college life, her ephemeral presence obviated the quest for that comfort zone. The mortal moment that, in future, shall become the cause of an eternal agony, brought my world to a stand still for that tick of clock. I don’t remember any other incident making this sort of long lasting impression in such short span of time. As I pinned my eyes on the ’soul immortal’ slipping again in the comfortable zone of my reverie, a sudden thump on the back of my head lurched me out again. “Kaun si achi lagi…?”(which one did u like), asked one of the seniors and I couldn’t stop myself from blushing. The other seniors, trying to fill some colors in the monotonous life, asked some of my other pals to run to those walking girls and ask their names, and I silently wished to be a part of this assignment. The wish was never fulfilled, had it been, the story would have taken an altogether different course, but destiny had its own manifestation plans.
The wish of knowing her name was not fulfilled, and I did not know if it would be materialized. I spent a few more days in the sun, waiting for the guard to escort us back to the hostel, hoping for another glance. She never appeared when I wanted her to, but the hope made the sun’s heat bearable. I kept the tropical sun at bay, while passing my time in the forlorn hope. The time passed, minutes moving like seconds, hours passing like minutes in the busy schedule of the college. An year passed with only a few sporadic moments, when I intentionally slipped into the vague fading memories of the past, trying to capture the essence of that day, and trying to prevent the dissolution of the golden moments into the acid of the past.
The ‘immortal soul’ faded, appearing spasmodically in the fraternal talks of crush and love. It became a fancied manoeuvre of staying in the conversation, exaggerated to suit the tone and lustre of the talk. The actualization of spoken words, was something that I read in fiction, but the life had something in store for me. Yet again she appeared in the most unexpected moment, in the most unexpected place, in the most unorthodox way. Again the heart and the mind started jostling, mind revising the moments of the past and heart throbbing, urging my mind to focus on the present. The connected fraternal gossips stated encircling my head, and heart started collecting them, impressing them like never before, the impressions that will never be deleted, that will never fade and never hesitate to haunt. Unlike the past, this appearance was not ephemeral but eternal. She showed up regularly and from now on was to show up regularly. I stole a glance regularly, and from now on I was to steal it regularly. I continued with my self assigned assignment, enthusiastically, without her knowing the presence of her image in my heart, perhaps without my knowing the presence my image in her heart. Telepathic connection was down for a considerable time, until I say my reflection in her eyes and the vice versa. The heart and the mind coordinated, deciding not to jostle (at least this time). The eyes met the eyes, the heart communicated with the heart and her presence comforted the affluent soul. The silent conversation obviated the need for spoken words. The silence spoke, softly, communicating all the needful. The two hearts moved in tandem and it was just a matter of time before they become one.
The silence has its own limits, and cannot preclude the necessity of the spoken words. The apprehension of the fact demanded its manifestation but the dearth of grit, chocked the voice. The words asphyxiated on the orifice. I knew what was there in my heart, she knew what was in her heart, she knew what was there in my heart, but it was me who failed to feel her heart. The love-charm, unable to exude out of the crevice, followed a passage, a purgatory passage, reached the hades, where the souls burnt, stifled in the absence of solace, smothered to a point of death. A vacuous of passing the parchment culminated the dream, the parchment acting as a red card, knocking the player out, pushing him into the solitude, the solitude of guilt. The magic of parchment battled with the strength of her hatred of love. As she waited relentlessly for me to break the silence, I succumbed fatuously, succumbed to my own ineptness and her pleading eyes looked into my eyes, this time it was me lowering my eyes to avoid a glance, a glance full of pity and remorse, the pity of fear of losing her, leading to the remorse of losing her. I gathered all the courage, the courage to shed all this pity and remorse, and to head for the moment where no one will lower the eyes, but in the absence of tenability, the courage lost its validity. The two hearts met, and the third one whined. I looked in her eyes, the eyes saying that she waited for too long, the eyes that belong to some one else, the eyes that will be kissed by the lips not mine, the eyes that were willing to love me, had I not botched the sail. The eyes saying.. if only..
