She’s been waiting for me,
in the hot sun, for hours now. Things haven’t always been so.
A year before today:
It’s been an hour since I arrived,
waiting for the only woman in my life who could make me wait. My levels of
restlessness have been high since childhood & I abhor waiting. But well,
they don’t just say for nothing that love makes the world go round. And I wait
for her, uncomplaining but feign irritation the moment I see her. Why? ‘Cause I
love being fussed over by her.
I rush into the bus, and
she follows me trying to grab my attention. We, as a couple, have always been
fascinated by travelling together, be it the bus or train journeys. Travelling with your loved one is a felling
that is one of its kinds. She tries to get me talking, asking if I got to the
stop early today as well. That’s how our day starts. I bask in her attention
while she tries to fuss over me, repeating how sorry she is, how she wouldn’t be
late tomorrow & how much she loves me. That’s enough to put a smile on my
face.
We get talking; somewhere
along the way she mentions that it’s high time I need to tell about us to my
parents so we can get married soon. We’ve had this conversation (I call it
discussion & she calls it an argument, so I prefer a neutral word) a
million times already. Each of us wants the other to tell at home first. She’s
obviously in a hurry as her family has started the groom-hunt; while I am the
youngest at home which means my siblings had to get married. I have the feeling
that she doesn’t trust me that I shall marry her, in spite of all my
assurances. To her, I just don’t value her or her family’s dreams over having a
stable tomorrow so I can support her. I just get down the bus and start walking
off irritated again, to my office building. She sms-es me about being sorry for
having messed up the morning and that she shouldn’t have brought up the topic
in the morning.
That day was different than
others, we had a huge tiff. I leave office early, citing ill health. I sms her
and leave quietly. I get a call in an hours’ time. It was her. She asked me if I
was okay, when she very well knew what upset me. She then asks me to be ready
by 5 so we could watch a movie. She knew how badly I wanted to watch a movie
with her, something we haven’t been able to do since we started dating
eachother. But I was still upset that she planned it when I was in a bad mood. I
said no until she sweet-talked me into saying yes. This was her way of making
things up for the morning.
When I reach the mall, I see
her waiting for me impatiently, along with a group of our friends. We watch the
movie in silence. I hate tragic movies,
like the one we just watched & I kept ranting about it all way, pissed off ‘cause
it reminded me of the past. She looks at me in the eyes & says she’s sorry.
That’s when my cell rings, its dad. Dad wants me to reach home quickly so we
could go “see” a girl. She overhears the phone conversation but doesn’t say a
word. She glares & fumes at me but I am already on my way. What I did not
know was she was to follow me to see who the “girl” is.
I reach home and our family
leaves in half an hour promptly. Everyone was ready & waiting for me. We go
to the “girl’s” house. The formalities completed, we were served ice-cream. It was
a flavor I could just tolerate, but my girl-friend’s favorite. I had already
made up my mind but did not want to create a scene in a stranger’s house for no
fault of theirs.
We get back home and the
first words I utter to my family were “I’m not interested”. I remind them that I
do not like all this boy-see-girl-stuff and ask them why are they doing this. Dad
says it’s for my own good; to which I retort that there’s no good that will
come of it & I do not want this marriage. He wants to know how long I will keep
saying no. He opens my wallet, shows my girl-friend’s pic & says “I know
you keep saying no because of this girl. It’s been a year since she died in
that accident. Forget her and move on in life.” I fight my tears back and
retreat to my room.
I can’t see her but I can
feel her next to me, staying by my side for eternity as she had once promised. How
could I just be a witness to the accident and see her pass away? And to all the
love we had, in spite of our fights, how could I just “move on”?
Today:
I walk my way to the place
where they burnt her, the only place that brings me peace.
