My secret confesssion – part 3
My secret confession – part 3
My mother was telling me to put some ointment on it but I refused, staring the view out of the window; the dancing water bolls on the road.
The moon and the rains are a rare combination but today was already a day of surprises.
I still go to the banks of the holy river in that long lost hope of seeing you by any chance and stare all those hundreds of the sailing diyas which once used to have my stupid wishes of you coming back to us but neither you came nor my long lost soul.
Wasn’t it enough of a coincidence that you made the hopelessly romantic person to turn into a patient waiter who searched your shadow in every passing stranger that you thought to turn every prayer to turn into well being of you.
The kid beside me was throwing pebbles into the waters and though I felt a pulse to stop him I didn’t, cause the water droplets which were ruining my white dress made me remember that rainy morning.
That embarrassing morning when I had commented rains were awful and just then I saw you coming not bothered about the drops ruining your white shirt and your still wet hairs after a shower, my friends had teased me all day if I still hated rains.
The practicality in me always shouted on me that violins don’t start humming in real life, and you never going to wait for me but then who was to blame that teen self of me.
That groom on the stairs of river banks reminded me of a popular ritual of Hindu weddings where grooms were meant to wear Kajal in eyes, and my repulsive self decided in no time I wasn’t going to let my maasis to do that with you.
Alas! One more time heart took the reins in its hands and started dreaming unreasonable dreams.
The calm groom seemed so pathetic at that moment, I wished I could help him.
The crowds always made me uncomfortable, it made me think worst and so I always searched a far corner of the banks but the corners gave the relief and relief came with you.
Still, the fear of crowds overpowered all other thoughts and I always took the secluded corners.
The burn on my palm is still fresh and I haven’t opened the piece of cloth wet with river water to sooth it.
The hot cotton boll which fell from a Diya kept on the building railing over me had been burning me suddenly but I was drenching myself in unexpected drizzles.
And someone shouted was I out of control and I jolted from my position, the cotton boll was thrown to the water and it landed on an empty leaf diya and sailed with it… dumbstruck and filled with positivity I jerked away from the arm clutching my arm.
My prayers were being heard and suddenly the bails in nearby temples started ringing telling me the evening prayers time and teary-eyed, I joined my palms to thank gods.
But in the next moment I was being dragged, he was pulling me through the crowd, the drops had turned fiery beating my face and felt no more a blessing.
Suddenly the city drowned in darkness and I recalled the radio announcement of a two-hour blackout in the evening.
The crowds suffocated but the tight grasp told me safety.
Finally, the pull loosened and my burning skin touched water, the careful touches made me desperate to see his face but earlier I was engrossed in my thoughts and this time darkness had its reasons.
he seemed familiar to every stair and citadel with the rush in his actions and in no time my skin was being rubbed with something cool and the smell told it was the sandal mix he has gotten from one of the monks.
I was transfixed on the last stairs near the entrance with the soothing atmosphere of ringing bells, low sounds of holy chants and him tying perhaps his white kerchief on my palm.
After he was done he told me to return home cause the banks were not safe in nights and started walking in opposite direction to the banks.
I kept gazing his retreating back which was not going to return to me even if I managed to call him; the group of boys joined him.
Smiling on my stupid behavior in front of a stranger even if it was dark, I started going up the stairs to leave the river area…
“it seems she fell for you ******.” one of them laughed and my heart skipped a beat hearing the NAME.
it couldn’t be you and I ran back only to find you had entered the crowd and it wasn’t going to help even if I went to search you in the dark crowd.
So with the white kerchief still wrapping my injured palm, I am staring these rains in hope for the guy to be you even when he didn’t wear the same cologne you used to have.
Perhaps the long lost prayer was heard and you indeed came for US, what if it was for a little moment cause I never told God how long I wanted you to stay, I only prayed for your return and God granted it.
Hello everyone, so again something from my heart to your heart.
Enjoy and do share your thoughts.
With love Morusya.