The coffee shop was not so crowded on the eve of Dussehra.
Only a few people, who probably were not much into the festive frenzy, were
seen relaxing over coffee and sandwiches. I would hang-out here with my mates
when I was in college. The fumes emanating from that hot coffee had that same
aroma which brought back reminiscences of the myriad times I came here with
friends, and sometimes, a special friend who had a special place in my heart.
It had some very heartbreaking memories of the past, but right now I just
wanted to feel the blues of a nostalgic expedition that had always had a happy
ending.
Three years is not so long a time span, but it seemed as if things
the way I knew them were gone. Only spirits of the forgotten were left to roam
around, not realizing that Time has moved on while they were still stuck in the
past. I sat there with my caffeinated drink, trying to feel the pleasure of
being back in a city which wasn’t exactly my home but home to the education of my
life. I could hear the BOOMs and BLASTs of the Raavan burning outside. The
commotion was deafening with slogans of “JAI SHRI RAM” and “SIYA PATI RAM
CHANDRA KI JAI” being raised. I had a sudden recollection of my roomies running
to the DUSSHERA MAIDAN on this day,
just to get a glimpse of the city girls.
I was here to meet her; knowing that this was the only time
her father won’t have a problem with her staying out late at night. The Raavan
was burnt at dusk and it took some time to find one’s way out from the confluence.
The uproar from outside became more intense when the coffee shop door swung
open to let in a family - a couple with a kid wearing a Hanuman mask and
carrying a mace in his right hand. I could easily guess they were coming from
RAMLILA MAIDAN and following them, came a cluster of people who occupied the entire
coffee shop within seconds. Even through the swell of the crowd, my eyes centred
on that couple and their kid.
Yes, that was her. So much had changed since the last time I
set my eyes on her, three years back. She saw me and shied away. From the look
in her eyes, I could see her, in a distant memory, lost in the cacophony which
we used to create as a team, those copious times I had looked into her eyes to
assure her that I was always there for her. I looked into her eyes yet again
and smiled to relieve her of that guilt stemming from betrayal. No, that was
not betrayal. We both played into the hands of Time and Fate.
My coffee was cold now. I waited till all was quiet; everyone
had gone by then, putting my hands in my rucksack, I pulled out a photo of both
of us, clicked at the college festival, holding the trophy won at the debate
competition. I gathered all my memories once again and moved towards the door
and there she was, standing across the road, waiting. I took small steps,
taking as much time as I could, to delay what came next.
We didn’t speak a word, yet a lot was said. I gave her the
photo. She took it and looked at it. I could see her eyes welling with tears,
which gave expression to my emotions as well. I just couldn’t...I had my
limitations, and she was married. Then, betraying my bravado, I hugged her and
kissed on her forehead. It had to end there for we were on different roads; she
got the life that she wanted now, so I released my passion unto the heavens.
Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.
