*One more*
The piled
stack of files, resting on his desk, was the last thing in the world he was
interested in. He couldn't wait to eradicate from those dull covers and gloomy cubical. They reminded him of those tussling days when the radical swankie in
him was brutally killed by his current-form. The need of coins volunteered to
be the weapon.
The
monotonous eyes constantly stared at the vintage clock. He was giving up on his
patience-level. After all, it was Saturday’s sunny afternoon. Any normal human
being won’t stand for it, would he? Of course, he was normal.
The clock’s
needle struck at 2 and his heartbeat rose to the peeks of mountains. He threw a
careless look at the stack, hurriedly picked up the car keys and rushed out;
his leather shoes hitting hard on the white tiled floor.
He intended
to reach on time; else she’d frown at him. He despised her frown more than he
despised a working-Saturday. One wish that he asked from Mother Nature to
bestow over him was desolated roads. Well, he was blessed. Atleast somewhere. Eyes
were cheerful now; foot on accelerator was in high spirits; ears were ignoring
the blatant horns; lungs were happy inhaling fresh air; lips separated
involuntarily and exposed the weak yet smiling teeth.
Finally, he
was going to meet her. The love of his life. His lifeline. The former name of
world. The yellow leaf of autumn. The blue horizons. The winter’s fog. The
blooming buds. The baby’s giggle. The void roads. The Sunday.
It’s been 1
month and 12 days since he last met her. Back at his home, his parents didn't enable him to see her or visit her. The emotional blackmail worked in their
favor. As a genuine reason, they couldn't bear their son to undergo those
despairing cells once again.
But now,
everything was finalized. Maybe, the odds were his crutches. He was all set to
splurge in his remaining Saturday with her. What better could she do to him!
He couldn't stop thinking of her. The galore of strange feelings kept bouncing back from
the skeptical walls of his brain. That moment was a scintillating moment. He
was a slave to the hedonist in him. The truth was to be spoken today. The great
news was to be delivered today. Yes, it’s high time. Not that, she never
imagined or expected it, but anyhow, she had to hear those words from those
pale but for-the-time-being pink lips.
Outside the
The-Flower-Frolic shop, his car stopped with a screeching jerk. It’s a special
day and indeed, he intended to make it even more worthy with prowess. As usual,
he got artificial white lilies for her. She had been a huge hater of those,
proffering real flowers as bouquet. She believed in the beauty of a flower only
when it’s planted, not plucked.
On the next
red light, Bindu knocked at his window, asking him which Diya he would buy this
time. He was her regular customer. He bought a tiny little Diya for Dia. She
was as glorified as her name. Isn't Dia beautiful like her name? He thought to
himself and a lovely dimple tinkled on the left corner of his lips.
There he
was. He had reached the destination. He could sit there and talk to her from
the moon and back. Like really 24*7. It was twilight. The sun was waving him
Bon Voyage. Today, it was really going to be a journey. He took a deep breath
and went in. He was going to tell her. It was time.
She was
sleeping peacefully. She was still beautiful. He wiped off the dust particles
from her grave and drove back in the flashback. Because that is where, he can
see her, adore her and decorate her. Once during her chemotherapy, she told her
father her last wish.
“Papa, on my
grave, under my name, will you please write my everlasting message for you?”
“No.” He
replied bluntly. For heaven’s sake, she was just 7 years old. She was supposed
to ask for chocolates, teddy bears, frocks, kitchen sets, dollhouses, art books
and all that pink stuff.
But that was
simply beyond imagination. When the skies had to snatch her back, then why did
they bestow her over him! The flood of tears found their way.
The eyes
were then watering, now watering. He took a step forward and kissed her
debossed name on her grave. She kissed him back.
Wasn't this
the purest form of unconditional love? Was it defined? Was it weeping?
The soul may
rest in peace but the hearts left behind never. Love does cease, but it
continues in the parallel world. Diyas don’t keep the love alive, neither do the
white lilies. But the emotions, sentiments and feelings do.
Whilst he
read her everlasting message- ‘Kiss me, I’m conditioned to respond’, he gave
her the big news, “Tomorrow, I’m going to adopt one more child, one more
daughter.”
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