OS - The Promise of a Spring

"Will you wait for me?"

"When will you be back?"

"I will be back when it is spring. And I will meet you, beneath the cherry blossom tree."

His last words still echo in my ears, filling my heart with the sudden desire to hear his voice again. Sometimes the distance scares me. The power of time scares me. It can steal away the strongest of memories by making them faint so that you no longer remember them. And then slowly, it becomes as vague as a dream. I am afraid to let go of our last memory, three years ago. It has been too long and with each passing day, the memory of him fades away slowly, like burnt paper crumbling into ashes. I no longer remember what he smelt like, what his heartbeat sounded like, what his touch felt like. I while away my time, living like a shadow, devoid of any colour. Waiting for the day of spring when he would be back in my life. Waiting for the memory to become a reality once more.

For he made a promise. The promise of a spring. It is another spring for me, and another season of wait. A season of hope.

My feet carry me towards the park where we used to meet once. I have waited here for three springs waiting for the sound of footsteps that never came. I came every day. From the day the first buds appeared on the bare branches. I saw the buds bloom into tiny pink and white flowers. I saw the flowers gradually dispersing a shade of white and pink all over the tree, until the boughs were laden with cherry blossom.

And then I saw the colour fade. I saw the delicate petals detaching themselves from the flowers. I saw them floating through the air, carried away in the wind, one by one until the tree had no more flowers left on it. And that's when I lost hope for the year. That's when I started my count again, towards the next spring. My eyes longed for the cherry blossom to come back upon the trees.

I have waited three springs. I have seen the trees turn white and pink to green, yellow and then turn bare. And yet the grass beneath the cherry blossom remained vacant, untouched. Pining for his presence.

The wooden gate creaks as I swing it open and step into the park.

The early morning mist still lingers on the ground and the trees appear vague, their branches peeping out through the mist here and there. There is a strange silence that hovers over the park, as if it had been waiting for me. I wonder if I should wait until the mist clears. Because the magic lies within, concealed in the mist. The hopes, the dreams, the promise, all lie beneath the boughs of those trees. I settle down on a nearby bench and wait for the sun to rise higher into the sky.

Slowly, the first ray of the sun finds its way through the branches and touches my face. I see the mist fade into nothingness right in front of my eyes. The curtain of white lifts and reveals the cherry blossom trees that were so carefully concealed a moment ago. The pale shade of pink and white spreads through the park like a wildfire, right before my eyes.

I get up from the bench and start walking through the grass. It is no longer just a shade of green. Spring has spread its magic through the grass as well. Snowdrops bloom here and there, splattering the wide expanse of green with patches of white. And then, there are the daffodils. They border the path that winds through the park, their bright yellow cups dancing in the wind. Their petals are so bright that it looks as if they have been sprinkled with sunshine.

I close my eyes and let the colours sink in, into my memory. But somehow, the colours aren't bright enough and disappear as soon as I close my eyes. Wind blows through the trees and I hear the faint rustle of the flower petals.

And then, I feel a hand upon my shoulder. I breathe in sharply as the touch sparks a sense of familiarity in me. The fading memories start becoming clearer. His touch is like the spring that comes after a long, cold winter. I don't open my eyes, lest it all disappears like the mist.

"Open your eyes. It is me. I am real." I hear his voice over the sound of the rustling flowers. The memory isn't a memory anymore. It is a moment, it's a reality.

I open my eyes and turn around. And I see his face. His face appears pale, like the winter. But it is still the face I fell in love with.

He continues without waiting for a response, "I am here to take you back. And I am never letting you go again."

His dark, intense eyes look into mine, like they once used to. They still hold the love, the promise, like they used to. His eyes make me realise, time isn't so powerful. Love is. Love has the power to keep everything alive.

I hold his gaze for as long as he holds mine. It has been too long. I look into his eyes until I can contain myself no longer.

My knees give way and I find myself collapse in his arms. He wraps his arms around me tight, holding me closer to his heart and fondling my hair. I bury my head in his chest; holding on to him and feeling his heart beat against my ears. I don't cry. Time has drained away all my tears. But time has returned him back to me.

As I shake in his arms, I manage to whisper, "I never stopped loving you, Siddharth."

I open my eyes briefly to see the wind carrying away some stray white and pink petals from the trees, all around us.

I stare at the petals swirling in the wind and I hear him whisper, his voice blending in with the wind, "I have always loved you, Riya."

***

We lie under a cherry blossom tree, our eyes staring into the pink canopy that's stretches above us, obscuring the sky from view. It almost looks like the sky has been painted with flowers, pale pink flowers. A few stray petals fall from the tree now and then and we watch the fragile petals get closer to us until they come to rest softly against our skin. My head rests on his chest, which rises and falls, softly, as he breathes. His fingers linger in my hair, brushing away every loose strand that the wind blows across my face.

After a while, he says, "You waited."

"You promised." I smile and raise myself on my elbow to face him.

His fingers brush against my cheek, ever so slightly and he says, "You kept the hope alive. Even though I wasn't here. You believed."

"Where there is love, there is hope. There is belief."

He smiles and pulls me closer to him. "I waited for this day, Riya. I waited for this spring when we would both be together again. It almost seemed too faint at times, the hope, the dream of you. But the flame of hope still flickered faintly in the dark, somewhere in the distance. It was love. Your love." He kisses my hair gently.

I reply, "Sometimes it seemed too faint. As if you were a dream, not reality. I was afraid of your memory fading. It scared me, Siddharth."

He takes my hand in his and entwines his fingers with mine. I smile at the little gesture, looking at our hands stand out against the backdrop of pink and white petals in the distance.

And then he says, "Our bond is unbreakable. It is too strong, even for time and distance to fray it or make it weak."

***

The sun is now higher in the pastel blue sky. Sunshine filters through the cherry blossom trees and kisses our skin ever so gently, leaving warmth and happiness on our sun-kissed faces. He looks at me and smiles, his fingers sliding into mine as we walk through the park, our feet bare. The grass feels soft and wet under my feet, its cool green blades brushing gently against my skin. The colours around me appear more vibrant now, a shade brighter than it was in the morning. Maybe it is because the sun is shining now. Or maybe, because he is with me. For me, spring has really just started. The season of hope, colours, the season of a new beginning. For me, spring is just a shade of colours. His presence adds the vibrancy to it. The colours feel alive.