It was a very cold breezy night. I stood by the window glaring at the street below. I had been looking at it for the past 15 years. Never before did it look so appealing to me. The silence was transcendental. No idea of what was happening around; I turned to take a look at the wall clock. 10.55pm it read. The road bore a deserted look. Just that, the sand was taken over the dunes of snow. My shadow created by the street-light, right up to the ceiling, was intimidating. I lowered the window blinds to eclipse the image which was making me live in an awe of hierarchy. My reflection in the mirror caught my attention. The street-light, now filtering through the blinds, made me look like a zebra crossing. I always hated that eerie look. But today, I don’t know, it seemed divine. My life had become something similar.
I sat back on the bed near the window. The open notebook on the table caught my attention. I saw its pages lit up by the amber colored luminescence. The scribbled letters seemed to have an incredible lustrous shimmer under the amber backlight. They were looking more grandeur and alluring. It was your notebook. I had read it umpteen numbers of times. But today, as I read it, I felt as if I was reading it for the first time around. The glimpses of the wonderful times of the past flashed across my eyes. The coffee mug slipped from my hand and fell on the floor, spewing the contents all over it. Not bothering much about it, I turned back to your notebook. I flipped the pages relentlessly. I came across a page all dyed with ink. I turned over. The ink had been soaked up by the following few pages as well. I don’t know what was written on it. I tried to guess. But I could not. I always thought girls were really very particular about their stuff. Then what were these ugly looking pages were doing in your notebook, I wondered. Indeed, understanding women is always so difficult. I gave up. I closed the notebook, put it aside and stood up. The coffee split on the floor was parched. It resembled the ink spilt in the notebook. I tried cleaning up the floor. The rag soaked up the coffee. But the stains remained. My life had become something similar.
I desperately needed a smoke. I walked into the balcony, pulled out a cigarette and struck a match to light it. The breeze made the cigarette tip burn with brilliance. Everything around seemed to have slow down, as if I was watching a movie in slow motion. I looked down below at the street. It had gone to the dogs, in both ways. A couple of dogs were making out in the solitude and solace of the night. I turned up to the sky. It seemed to follow weird sequence of patterns. I could see your smiling face form up in the sky. I puffed hard. I coughed. I could hear you cough too. It was the first time you scolded me for smoking in public and more so coz it was bothering you. I coughed again. Maybe I had taken a bite more than what I could chew. It momentarily brought a smile to my face; I looked up to the sky again. Your image up in the sky had disappeared, a mirage. My life had become something similar.
Unable to bear the solitude of the night, and to divert my attention, I decided to call up a friend. I picked up my cell phone and dialed the number. ‘Connecting’… it read. It was taking longer than usual. I was familiar to this caller tune. Before I could analyze what was happening, a soft voice was audible. I could feel the tensed tone in the voice. ‘Hello..?’ It was YOU. Why had I dialed your number?? ‘Hello..!’ and unable to decide what to say, I disconnected the call. What was happening to me? Why was I missing you so much today? What were with these coincidences?? Out of the anticipation of getting a call back from you, I switched off my cell phone and put it away under the cushion. I sat back on the bed. I could feel my heart thump. It was feeling as if I had just returned from a marathon. I could feel the heat; the gush of blood to the head and ears. Despite the cold night, I was perspiring. I was feeling as if someone had thrust a spear head through my heart, and was barbequing me. My life had become something similar.
I decided to go for a walk. I picked up your notebook. Put on my shoes and walked out of the apartment. It was freezing outside. The road and the walkway seemed to have pulled on a blanket of snow to cover itself from the cold. I started walking towards the lake. The first few steps felt as if I was chained, like a prisoner. It was hard to lift my feet, but slowly, the numbness had got the better of it. A series of thoughts hurled questions at me, just like in a press conference. What was making me think of you so much? Was it love? Were even you experiencing the same what I was? Were even you thinking of me? Are you the woman I was waiting for? I had completely lost my senses. Now, I was almost gliding through the snow. Definitely, this was love, I felt. But I thought, when I would fall in love, I would hear the sound of violins and guitars play; feel the breeze blow into my face and everything around me would slow down, verisimilitude that in a movie. But then I remembered you saying, things in real life are different from those of the reel life. My life had become something similar.
I walked around the park to take my favorite bench beside the lake. The half frozen lake with the shimmering water looked as if someone had strewn pearls on the ground, illuminated by the moonlight. I sat on the bench enveloped with snow, placed the notebook on my lap and gaped in to the darkness of the night. I could hear the breeze whisper into my ears. The leaves of the trees were flirting with the breeze, creating a rustling noise. The water of the lake provided the background score. Slowly, I lost all my senses. Suddenly, I was brought back by a sound. All I could see in the dark was a hazy figure. I ignored, thinking it to be just another hallucination. Then slowly, I could smell some fragrance. It was the fragrance of your perfume. Intoxicating! I looked back again. Indeed, just another hallucination. I sighed. Stood up and began strolling mindlessly. Just then something on the ground caught my attention. A handkerchief! I picked it up. It was yours! The trademark, ‘A’, embroidered in a corner. I knew it the moment I picked it up. I thought I would return it to you. As I continued walking further, I saw the hazy figure re-appear. Not heeding much attention, I kept strolling. The fragrance had returned. I smiled to myself and kept walking. The hazy figure now bore a more sharp characteristics and the fragrance too had increased in intensity. I looked up with curiosity, squinting in the dark to trying to identify who the lonely person was, but in vain. I walked up close; I tried to look over the shoulder. All I could see was an ink pen. The person was glaring at it and the ink, which had stained the fingers. It was my ink pen! ‘Excuse me! I guess that’s my pen?’ I said. As the person turned, and took a step forward, the street-light seemed to enlighten the whole area. It was you. I could not resist myself from staring at you. You held up the pen towards me. You had borrowed it from me long back. Oh! I had absolutely forgotten about it. I knew this was it. Now, I realized what those ink blots were doing in your notebook. I held up your notebook and the handkerchief. Tears rolled down your eyes. Without saying a word, we hugged each other. How true, at times you actions speak louder than words. My life had become something similar. The warmth had just started to set in. The snow had started to melt off. A cool breeze followed. We sat at the bench late into the night. I could hear a tune of a nice romantic song. LOVE... truly captivates you.
©ROHAN AMBRE
14th February, 2010
