Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Painting...

It has been 5 years since we last met. I can still remember the day we met for the final time. The day we broke up, the day you sent me into a pit full of darkness and self hatred. I know I had not been the perfect guy you wanted me to be; but I thought you loved me for who I was. That lovely yellow salwar you wore on that fateful day is still etched in my mind. That fragrance of Jasmine, those pink lips; they all haunt me everytime I think about you. I know 5 years is a long time but for certain people like me, time is not something that can erase away memories of the best days of my life.
Years have passed by, I almost forgot about her, but then as I attended a party hosted by one of my new friends at his house, I saw something that just seemed to suck me out of the party and throw me 5 years back. The memories did not appear to be memories; it all seemed to be happening all over again.
She came a little late that day looking hauntingly beautiful in that gorgeous yellow salwar. She gave me a slight weary smile as she sat down on the bench with me. Her eyes were intent yet weak. Her face steady yet sad. Her eyes focused yet lost. “How are you?” she asked. I just gave a slight nod. How was I supposed to be on the day my heart was tearing apart? I managed a feeble smile, which she understood completely as if it were a direct mirror into my mind. I turned my gaze away from her. There were children playing, birds flying in total harmony, an artist was measuring the landscape for his new artwork. Suddenly, she blurted out rather robotically as if the dialogues were rehearsed a million times. “I have put a lot of thought into it. Now it seems to be going nowhere. I don’t think that it is a good idea to continue with what we have gone through. It will just get worse as the times pass by and we will get hurt to the point that….uff I can’t speak anymore!!!”. Yes, as you must have guessed by now, it was the day I broke up with my girlfriend, the one true love of my life.
I begged her to give it one more chance, that maybe something might just happen that shall change the way things are. “I can’t count on you anymore. I have to go to Delhi to finish my Masters and probably get a job that will sustain me. I cannot depend on you anymore. I can’t live like this! There’s just a few days till the end of my final year terminal exams. What are you planning to do then? You’ve already screwed up your job interview!!!”
“This is not the end of the world, honey.” I pleaded. “I can still try again.” But she was in no mood to listen to me. She had “put a lot of thought into it” and had already made up her mind. Her nonchalant attitude really angered me. It was shocking how this sweet girl who never raised her voice at anybody could transform into this Dracula, this gorgon. I guess that how women are. You never know what they can be. There’s a joke about this I can recall. “Women marry men expecting them to change, they don’t. men marry women expecting them not to change, but they do!” I know this was not the right moment for this stupid joke, but this not a Balaji soap; too much tension is avoided.
Yes, she left me. She went on to pursue her most important immediate goals. I could not dare to stop her as I had no means and backing to do so. No job, no money, no guts, nothing.
I shall continue with the filmy dialogue of “days passed into months, months into years, years in to even more years, but no sign of her.” Not that I was looking for her, but I was waiting for her to come back to me someday. Waiting patiently, with some hope that she would maybe realize her love for me and come back with tears in her eyes saying, “I missed you so much!”
That would be a perfect ending for sure, but then, like I said, its not some TV soap. If it were then it would be difficult for my small mind to remember the twists and turns and besides, there are only 3 characters in this story, the third one you will find out. No offence there! Just plain humor.
Well, I had been thinking about her for just so long. Hated her, and then loved her back. Slapped her, kissed her, played with her, fought with her. So many things I felt inside. My heart felt tight when I thought about her. It felt almost as if somebody was squeezing the life out of it. Almost every night I would think of her, secretly kiss her good night and smile at the thought. How innocent I was not to realize that she had gone away, far away from me. I could not do anything to reduce the distance or the time that lay between us. But that did not stop me from loving her. I still loved her the way I did and waited patiently for her to come back to me.
One day I received a letter from her. Probably her last letter for it went on something like this, “Hey there. I don’t know how to say this(bad news), or even if I should tell you (even more bad news). But I have to anyway, my heart forces me to inform you about this. All these days I was away from you, I fell into many troubles. I was so lost, lonely here. Nobody was there for me, not even you. Then there was this wonderful guy Moses. He took such great care of me. He treated me to health when I fell ill. He took me out when I was sad. He protected me when I was lonely. He was there for me all the times you weren’t. I need to tell you, I AM GETTING MARRIED TO HIM. Hope you will understand. Take care.”
Take care???How on earth was I supposed to take care? Was this her idea of a joke? No it can’t be. Why will she send me only one letter and joke like this? Oh my God! She’s getting married, to someone else!!! What am I gonna do? O! Somebody kill me!!! Take my life away!!! I can’t live like this!!! I screamed and cried for so many more nights. I cannot remember how many times I cried myself to sleep.
Slowly but steadily, the wounds healed. I got my faith in humanity back. I finally found a reason to live. That’s how everybody’s life passes, I guess.
I was living my own dreary life but as the times passed, I got into the happy mode. I started celebrating with friends. I took my life seriously now. I even got a good job. Yes I was working, earning, partying with friends, everything. It was at one such party that I saw a painting. The artist I was talking about at the beginning of the story had actually painted a picture. A picture of the park, of the bench, of the yellow salwar, of the two of us. The artist had preserved my love in his canvas. The one love I had had not yet faded away. It was to remain till time held it preserved. The two of us… in the canvas… together… forever.
PS The artist in the 3rd character, not Moses.