I am back; this time soon!
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Dark Bedouin- Part-2
The sun has come up and I am sitting by a window that is foggy with the breath of a life gone by. I'm a picture this morning: a hefty shirt, heavy pants, a scarf wrapped twice around my neck and tucked into a bushy sweater knitted forty birthdays ago. The bimetallic strip in my room is set as high as it will go, and a smaller space heater sits directly behind me. It spews hot air like a fierce dragon, and still my body shivers with a cold that will never go away, a cold that has been now for four decades now. Sixty three years. I wonder if this is how it is for everyone my age. Every one of my age is happy with their sons, daughters and grand-children. If none, at least, his wife is with him. Unlike me. The day is still fresh before my eyes even though my eyesight has gone poor with years. The day I was called as an unfaithful servant by her. Maa asked me to marry someone and I never satisfied her desire. This situation wouldn't have raised today if I had married a girl. Today, I have no one beside me. I may have spun out to be the youngest billionaire the world can ever have; but as a person, I was and still a loser. Neither was I able to fulfil my parents' wish nor am I having a happy family around me. Such a huge manor and it's only me, valeting the lone paths and talking with the walls and trees. I slowly stood up, my Tynor stick helping me walk. Managing to my spot in the study, I walked down and opened my chest- my very own chest of bitter-sweet memories. I sat down on the rocking chair, my stick now resting with the wall. I took the chest and placed it on my lap, having a look at my memories.
It'd been better if I had been in the same world and not this deserted one.
I noticed my watch which Mota Babuji gifted me. He always said- "Time does not change; people do," and I always used to differ from his statement: "Time changes and people don't." But today, I feel both of us wrong. People change with time and that was how Ishani changed. The watch does not work anymore, but it has always given me the power to work more.
My fingers slowly trailed over my childhood pictures with her- the happy smiles, naughty pulls, weird poses we made. I still laugh silently seeing those. Precious memories. They can never be snatched back from me. They were mine and will remain so. Life was definitely better those days. Can't they ever come back? I am still waiting and hoping that I would meet her someday.
I now took out that letter which she had written to me back forty years, when I was in Surat, struggling for a meal. Boy, she kept a track of me until then. I took the now-yellow piece of paper, its ends untidy, coiled and ripped when I reopened the paper after a gap of two months now. My eyes become moist whenever I see her hand-writing. This letter was the last and the final one that I received from her. It read-
Ranveer,
I knew that you would be in this place waiting for some job; that was something obvious. I am keeping an eye on you, Ranveer. But don't fret. I won't keep one anymore. You want to know why; Because, I have got better jobs to do. Well, I never missed you; not even a single day! And I am happily with Chirag, my relationship with him going strong.
Okay, before I get back to unnecessary things; let me say this- Both of us are getting married this week and the wedding is going to happen in a typical Gujrati style. Wondering why I am saying this to you? Let me blurt it out for you- Please don't come to my marriage and spoil my mood! And we would be shifting our base to Vancouver (I hope you know the place, too) and please do not visit the place anytime in your life!
Thank you for getting out of this house and out of my life, too.
Ishani Parekh
Ps. I don't expect a reply from you. It'd be better.
I closed the letter now, my eyes burning red. Her words sliced my heart, literally into pieces. I have read the same letter for thousands and thousands of times; yet the pain is still fresh and evident. The tag of me being the servant's son was the only problem in my love. But I never minded, at least by now. She asked me not to reply back, but then, I did reply her with a post-card. It had cost two rupees at that point of time and it was way too costly for me then.
Wishing you a happy married life, Miss Ishani.
Ranveer Vaghela
That was the reply I gave her. And I did not get a reply again and I never expected too. From that day, shares have been my strength in my business. Thankfully, I at least knew how to trade. Forty years gone, I haven't sent a message or got any, from her. But I want to meet her, at least now. Is she a mother now? Or a grand-mother? Maybe Chirag took care of her, who knows! I have to get to back to Vancouver and search for her. I am sure; she will recognize me even with my wrinkled skin and weary eyes. I am not far away from her place and I know; I can find her even today.
But what if she's not in Vancouver anymore? No, that cannot happen. She must in Vancouver, planning for her retirement with Chirag. I have to see her; for the last time. My death will be peaceful then. It is not that I am going to die very soon but my last wish will be fulfilled, at least.
I slowly closed the chest now, my head heavy just like my heart. Keeping it safely inside the drawer, I removed my spectacles. Damn, I shouldn't cry with the specs. I have to wipe them whenever I do it. And I am lazy to do it. Sigh, she always called me a lazy chap and yes, I am one.
I now stood up slowly, my Tynor helping me again as I walked through the corridors once again, making my way to the kitchenette. At this age, I have to make my own food and eat alone. Sigh, I can have butlers around me, working and helping during my old-age; but I don't want that. Because I am one servant, myself. An unfaithful one.
Taking the vessel, I made it on heat, pouring the milk to it, heating on a high flame. The fire on the stove was warm for me; out of all the cold in Toronto. Three minutes later, I took my coffee mug out, adding the coffee powder and a spoon of sugar. The milk had now heated up, the warmth of it covering for the entire place when I made the coffee swiftly now. Making coffee was the easiest task in the world; apart from discoursing brutal words. Well, people don't understand the value of persons until they miss them badly. But I know, she wouldn't have missed me. She had Chirag with her; maybe she still has.
I now sat on the table, my thoughts wandering back to the good, old days. Sigh, those days! Having a sip from the coffee, I now looked for my laptop; thankfully it was just few steps away from me. Switching it on, I quickly booked a ticket to Vancouver now. I don't know- I just have to meet her once. I would consider it as my best farewell gift, even if I just have a glimpse of her. My heart is already desperate to meet her. Forty years and I haven't seen her; not even once, as per her instructions.
Booking the tickets, I quickly finished my coffee and cleaned them, after having my omelettes. Slowly walking back to the main hall, I looked at the tiny frames of timeless memories; I am still young, just by sixty three years. I am not bald like the other gentle-men or weak like them. I am physically still strong though, mentally weak now. It's just that my hair is white dappled and my cheeks have gone down by a few inches. Otherwise, I am still the old RV, except for the reading glasses I am wearing now. I did not find life so hard until I reached forty seven; it was all the same- work, home, work, home. And when Maa and Baba left for their retirement in the other world, I started to miss everyone. It is not that I did not miss them until I reached forty seven; but after that year, my life took a huge turn.
What's the use of thinking about it now? Nothing.
My sole aim for now is to get a glimpse of my only love. I don't know of how will I be welcomed when I see her; but whatever might be the case, I have to see her, I don't mind getting beaten up brutally again for her.
Done! Constructive Criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for typos :D :D
Edited by Bloomfield - 9 years ago
