𝓐𝓫𝓱𝓲 𝓷𝓪 𝓳𝓪𝓸

Abhi na jao - last pages of dairy

The evening went with the moments of watching the sunset with her . A ups and down came and left with every good fate . A beautiful face of hers now becomes the figure to worship. Every morning I woke up and touched her feet, the only woman I loved so much in this old home. A one I cared so much, I wished she wouldn't leave me, yet the destiny is something made up to happen. It goes on its own, a wisdom which was never the fault . A gift that always feels so close  yet the attachment hurts . A person who was hugging me a few weeks ago now framed the pictures of emotions, hanging in the middle of the room ripping the old memories so painfully. Yet the soothness still has not ended. The journey with her from a young heart to the old wrinkles, from a mass cinema to old songs vibes. We came together at the end of night . Putting flowers on a girl I loved, it was the painful thorns ripping my emotions. You remember anya when in the last moment I was holding your hand and kept blabbering to stay with you, you said "waqt aa chuka hai , ibadat khatam karne ka" . People really become like a person who they love, or live with them. Maybe not because I never saw my parents copying each other's behaviours, any resemblance of father I never found in my mom. Rather than they were two opposite souls . One was courageous and the other one was vulnerable. It was like two opposite souls were tied up and forced to cut the vigil path of life. And they succeeded, they lived their life together . But still I never felt love, a contract was signed to be together and they just followed it for life with some wholesome memories. Or that what love to them, living without resembling each other. 
  I saw you copying my style, scratching a head whenever you sat silently somewhere. Which was not your habit, in fact you used to chide up on me for that. Later ironically I caught you with a habit of scratching your head. It wasn't only you who copied.  Throughout my whole I imitated you, you remember the 15th anniversary of ours . We planned to celebrate it alone with each other at the old beaches of odisha. Maybe hidden, but my sister surprised us with a party.  Priya was so happy to see us together living our tragedies in compliance with such sweet Ghibli moments. We didn't get into fights , not in big fights . I know we had small arguments about things mostly about the outside world. A world so different from us, different from our small world. In which we allowed only some sprinkling of people, to talk , to hug, to celebrate. After marrying you I continue on writing, however the fame doesn't affect my small world. My small world was never so strong but wasn't vulnerable like me. You changed me. I know I told you that thousand of times and I will repeat it till my soul is alive. Seeing you vanish with wind, I felt peace. I was happy seeing you going along with the companion of your childhood, the best friend of yours - nature. I never stopped you from playing with nature. It was you and nature who had all right to live alone , play alone and I couldn't hold you that time too. When your breathing was slowly and slowly dissolving with the wind . Whispering to it, about your glorious memories of life , your mistakes, your love. I heard you both , not only you chattering with the wind . Telling him about me .
You said:- so you came to take me along with you , ahh isn't it so early to leave him, a donkey old hag. See him , he got old. Even tho he doesn't accept it. He still shows me his fascinating body to tease me , but I am not an old woman. I am a young , youthful and energetic girl . Just weary now of the things. I have him who does care about me, If I left him so early. How could I see me being cosy along with you ? Maybe I will be the wind of thunder at night . Scary, guilty and tortured, I promised him that I will be with him till he wears that bracelet. And he is still wearing that, see on his hand. The only bracelet on his hand. He never drew it out . What if he did? Ahh I remember once during some function. For checking purposes a security told him to draw out that bracelet and then again gave it . But it was around 20 years ago . So why didn't I leave him 20 years ago . Maybe I think the bracelet wasn't the reason for our tremendous relationship. It was him , his efforts who did it . Did everything for me.  I owed him love. A love that couldn't be paid back. It is mine, his  love , his sorrowness, his cry ,his vulnerability, his smile , everything is mine and after I will leave him . Every memory and reminder will be me. I know he will keep writing about me, will laud me , cheer me , glorify me , commend me , lionise me , adore me , eulogise me , he's gonna rhapsodise about me . He really loved me . It's a delight to become his inspiration. You know wind now I am thinking that it must be a long dream , the moment my breath will dissolve in you and my eyes will shut and hands go numb . I will wake up in my classroom in between people I do not know. The people who aren't my friends.  I will find myself again a lonely kid who never got appreciated. Will go home alone and will write about this dream of how I met a yashuu. An imaginary Greek feels. Hmm
You chuckled , you looked at me like I didn't hear you . Maybe you knew I heard but you care not to ask me that. You wanted to cherish the last breath. Your breath became heavy, you were panting heavily. I wanted to stop you to talk but I didn't. It was the last time you were talking, chattering not with me , but with wind . In so loud whisperly voice you kept on , you kept on telling the wind our memories, our reunion at wedding, our reminisces of happiness.  The last words you said "it's time to wake up" and you became silent. Only the pesky sounds of machines there I only heard and remember. Your eyes were closed and the face beguiled with a smile. I said "your wrinkles started showing, you have gotten old" . You didn't respond, you just kept smiling at me , like pleasing me and teasing me both . The doctor came, announced your death. After 13 days in your ceremony, Priya came to me. I thought she was gonna show concern and be sad like others, somehow she smiled. She looked happy. I thought she was happy you died. I asked her too. She knocked on my head. She said "I am happy because you spent time with her, I am happy she was with you. And she is always gonna be with you. In the wind  like she said". And that was the last conversation I had that day . We sat silently watching your photo hanging on the wall. People coming showing their concern, condolences to me. That day somehow I felt my small world was intruded by outsiders after a long time. I want to obstruct them and to get them out of a boundary of a small world . Then I realised it was for you that they came for. To celebrate you, to snitch my small world, to conquer it because the ruler died. I didn't stop them, they conquered our small world by sharing their stories, relating their stories, and celebrating their stories in our land, our home . I feel uneasily unsafe, Priya understood it and ended the ceremony soon with her vocabulary and verbal words , so you had to their heart to make them cry. They left with their concern. Priya stayed with me . Helped me clean the house . Maid was there too but I don't feel like letting any outsider touch my home. We didn't keep the maid until you got sick. That's when a spy entered our boundary making it a vulnerable world to conquer it so easily. We both cleaned the house and ate the dinner-leftover of your bhoj food. She said goodbye to me and left home. I was alone with you, alone now too. Feeling it's so fragile to write. I am getting old too, my body doesn't react much . And my eyes started to get blurry . I fear I will be blind soon . There is no one to care for me . Priya also slept last month, my small world totally intruded by aliens. My people aren't here . They are travelling through winds , going to new places to become the intruders. You are with them right? Maybe watching me from a distance. Aah I feel the touch of wind now . Is it you ? I know you are calling me, I want to hear you. But my death is not so near, it's still a mile away. My companion winds must be lost in the path of my death. Maybe they were still somewhere enjoying the relationship, not ready to accept my presence. Writing about you was never hard, it was just coming close to you, I faced hindrance of fate.