Part 2: Who gave this soul to me?
The thundering sky cracks open to let out an anguished cry, almost as if nature too laments with me over my terrible fate. As the clouds rumble, I sense that they're mocking me. My mind screams at me for being orphaned, then widowed at the prime of my youth. The pieces of my shattered dreams threaten to cloud my eyes with copious tears, but I fight them back. The downpour doesn’t bother me, for I have nowhere to run to. Instead, I hear myself thanking the Gods for these showers, as the blood from my wound oozes away into the gutter, for it has no place on my forehead.
“I need to meet you” I say over the phone.
“Where?” He asks.
“Where you left me”, I disconnect.
Under a dimly lit street, I wait for him. He is the last thread of sanity that binds me to this world despite his grave accusations. He’s the only one who can set me free from my miseries. I need to know why he did this to me, did my eyes betray me when I saw a human in him?
Every passing minute is driving me to the edge of insanity, but I hold on to my shattered but raging soul.
When will he find me?
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The downpour is harsh, just like my words to her, about her. Guilt washes over me, but I suppress my conscience. This world is too cruel for those who listen to their conscience. I've walked down that road before, only to be left with a broken family. Strangely, I find myself having no control over my raging emotions in spite of talking myself out of guilt.
She says she needs to meet me. I don’t know why I instantly agreed, but I know that I can neither deny her nor myself this last meeting, despite what she did to me, and I to her, for I need to know why she did this to me. Away from prying eyes, in the dead of the night, I wish to see her one more time.
Where you left me, that’s what she said.
Every passing minute is driving me to the edge of insanity, but I hold on to my shattered but beating heart.
But, will I find her?
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I hear his car screeching at the corner of this damned street. A strong gust of wind throws me off balance slightly, my sandals now in tatters. I know it’s him, for his mere existence spells doom for me, each time I meet him, yet I can’t find myself away from him, I don't know why.
It’s him. He steps out. I fear I may see disgust on his face, but I continue watching him intently. I need to brave up, for it’s going to be a long treacherous night.
But I’m glad he found me. `
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I see her, standing under that dimly lit street. I know it's her, for my heart starts palpitating at the mere sight of her her slight form, an emotion I've never been privy to before, in spite of having a promiscuous life. What led me to drive here and not to her place, I cannot say. Maybe the strings of broken hearts know what the mind refutes.
“I’m leaving, Anna”.
Farhad's voice breaks me from my reverie. I nod at him, it’s not his battle after all. I watch him walk away, knowing well that he's sent a prayer up in earnest, not for me, but for her.
After what seemed like an eternity, I slowly make efforts to close the distance between us, taking each step forward watchfully, afraid of unnerving her.
I’m glad I found her, but I feel myself needing to brave up, for I am not yet ready to look into her probing eyes.
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“Raghav”, I hear myself speak his name in a dreaded calm.
“Pallavi”, I say in reverence, betraying my vengeance. I meet her eyes and right then, I know she will be the death of me.
The sky lights up momentarily, as if mimicking the lightning passing through our torn hearts.
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“A night full of talking that hurts,
My worst held back secrets,
Everything has to do with loving and not loving,
this night shall pass too,
then we’ve got work to do”
Rumi.
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That's it for this weekend. The next chapter will be the confrontation. I must say Raghav's heart is emotionally draining, but with the depths of an ocean. Complex but tender. Pallavi's heart is a mystery of penned up feelings, dreams and desires. In this series, as you must have read, both of them are already aware of their feelings towards each other and that is one of the reasons they're greatly hurt. I strongly believe that one can act in contrary to their feelings through denial, but we cannot hide from our conscience what our heart and soul tells us, then it can be a fleeting thought, a lingering moment or a pang that you cannot put to words.
My attempt here is to develop their love story without external catalysts. No amma, no lion, no forced marriage. Because love is intimate, not privy to any other soul other than two people.
Thank you for all the likes and comments. I will be responding to them shortly.
Arjun
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