March 23, 2011
I always knew when it got started but it has become difficult to recall – how I let it happened to me and why?
It has escaped my memoir long ago, the reasons of this wild pull that dragged me towards him, the dawn of this irreversible attachment which appeared wonderful in the beginning but robbed me at last. I don’t know what was that which lured me into the pit of endless suffering & pain.
It’s been decades; but the longing to get close to him is still alive and getting intense with every passing moment, shattering me into pieces. Things had surely gone out of my control; as I was just lingering with time at its dullest speed, with sheer grief, waiting for an end.
I should have forgotten him by now but I couldn’t. I quickly learned – how painful it was, erasing someone from our remembrance. I tried many times to remove his marks; he left on me, “the more I attempted, the more they got darker”. How helpless I was!
Now, life has been taken over by the dark of gloomy nights, squandering at night-spots, gulping down heavy shots with anyone who is around, dancing, shouting, running down the streets and hurling abuses in joy, in pain, has become a daily routine.
“People say – heart always spills out of our eyes but I would always give my best to hold my heart back, and cheer”.
The misery takes a pathetic turn when the craving to cuddle my love ends in someone else arms. “The journey to make him mine has made me a slapper, a real slut”. The repentance demands a heavy cost later on; I can only rue and drench myself with tears, nothing else was at hand.
“I know what it means to be faithful when you are in love nonetheless I stumble many times, over and again”, tears rolled down.
In a moment of aberration, I have shared this body with so many people, “the influence of dear alcohol makes it rather easy when one decides to fall from grace”, no one could touch my soul because there was no soul, it was just a body, a rotten body.
He is the one who carries my soul, my heart, he carries all of me. Doesn’t matter if I succumb to grave anytime soon, they are safe with him forever.
Every one of them who joined me in the corner of a bar, they reminded me only of him, as I hopelessly tried to find him in their eyes as long as I was zonked. I would share my story in a desperate manner with everyone, “how much I love him”. It’s a pity, I know, but I can’t help.
I just need someone to talk, I want to share myself with someone, the loneliness is killing me slowly.
Why does it hurt so much?
PRESENT DAY, 2019
After a couple of grey days, finally, a big but lambent sun was in the view, as I opened my eyes late morning following a deep slumber. I should have spent the day out but unfortunately I had to clean up the mess we made all-together in wild excitement last night. The house was totally jumbled up after a loud stag party. I had to put the house in order. Shockingly, every one of those who promised to help me in cleaning the mess after the party is over had vamoosed.
Rubbing my eyes, I gave a round to the house and damned myself; “they fooled me one more time”. It was unbelievable, somebody had tilled the entire garden and the azure pool had turned pale as if everybody peed into it last night, including me, of course, I frowned.
I came to living room and collapsed on the coach awkwardly in a huff. Thinking, how to fix all this mayhem. I had hardly closed my eyes when an annoying creak sound caught my attention. I opened my eyes in a daze and turned my head quickly in the direction whence the sound came.
She was Mikaela, slithering up the stairs, coming from the basement, still grogged up, finding it tough to hold her steady, totally out of senses.
A silence filled me, and then I burst out of shock, “bloody mofo”, “where the hell you were”. I run down the stairs to ensure if there was someone else in the basement.
Even the basement was not spared where they didn’t bring up, what they devoured last night – beer, vodka, and all. Thank god! “There was no one”. I ran up, and gave a water bottle to her, made it sure that everything was all right. She hummed in low voice, alluded that she was good, lolling in the sofa.
I got back to the basement tried to figure out how to fix it. While collecting the waste papers scattered all over the floor, I found a few tattered paper consisting a few pieces of writing, smudged but legible. One of them riveted my attention.
It was a kind of journal. I started going through it and whatever so-called brightness was on my face, it got dissolved into thin air all of the sudden. Somebody wrote it down with an abyss of emotions. The way it was written, revealing so many things about the person who wrote it.
I rolled the paper in my pocket in haste, came up, called my friends and managed to get rid of Mikeala.
I didn’t go out that day, couldn’t find ease, the echo of the each words, written in those papers, disrupting me harshly.
The sun was about to go below the horizon. With those shabby papers in my hand, I was sitting on the very edge of the terrace, face towards the nothingness, eyes little wet. I have never ever felt so dejected as I was that day.
Well, the reason of the dejection, which was brimming over with shivering chills, was not that I accidentally discerned someone’s pain wrapped in words. No that was not the real cause, the real cause was, I finally got to know, “who wrote it”, eyes wide open, tears threatened.
She was my mother. She died of heart complications eight years ago. I was only thirteen years old when she left me all alone.
She was a mysterious woman, someone who is difficult to understand, now, I can say that. From this day back, it never occurred to my mind, but she was mystifying for sure.
Each day that I spent with her she was pretending to be happy. For long, she had been going through an ordeal without leaving any trace behind; she was doing it so surreptitiously that no one could notice her inner uproar.
As she mentioned, she shared her story with everyone on the table of any bar but she never let me know what happened to her.
She brought me up with an ear to ear smile on her face, with so much love & care, she never gave me chance to inquire about – who is my kin & kith, who is my father. I never asked her, simply because she never let me feel that way.
Disappointment slammed me hard, why she didn’t let me share her pain. My eyes were blazing like amber, I wanted to embrace my mother right there but ………….
The last beam of auburn sun vanished in front of my eyes, a fine evening was in the offing. Following, a sweet gust of wind around me gave me some peace as it touched me gently but it secretly took that piece of paper away from my hand, blowing all over with the flurry on and on towards the heavens.
I saw it going away, up in the sky and the sorrow inked on those papers disappeared soon after in the space. I took a deep breath, wiped the tears flowing in stream.