But for the tea at Jamshedpur railway platform

I

The quizzed look in her calm eyes made him flinch for a moment and he was transferred to the past when he would look into those same eyes and would find himself drowning without any regret in the blissful ocean of love, trust and care.

It was during a train journey that he had first met her. 

There was nothing romantically unusual about the first meeting. They both had alighted at the Jamshedpur railway station to have tea and by some innovative method, known only to girls, she had managed to miss her train and if it was not for the classical scene from Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenege, he wouldn't have known to how to give your hand to a girl who is running to catch her train like a bride escaping from her own marriage.

That was the first time their eyes met and soon the casual glance turned into an attentive stare. Her eyes were like the best thing that he had ever seen. The light blue Kurta, the black cascade of black falling hair and a spread of innocence worth their weight in Scottish chocolate was too much for him to fight against.

His non belief in love was taking a serious dent, for he was experiencing the gravity of love that was pulling him down. Something was happening, he could experience it. But to describe it in words was something he would have miserably failed even if he would have tried.

He was falling in love. And he knew that had no chance of coming it out of alive.

This happened on a quiet day of a warm winter of January, 5 months ago. And soon their love became the talk of the small train.

And as their love blossomed from Bhopal Express to the dim lit walkways of Connaught Place he discovered that she was the more extrovert of two, always cajoling him to hold hands, swing legs, run aimlessly on roads, pushing through crowds. When she was in her full bloom she could make a 5 year toddler look like a man planning his retirement.

Every stare of her, her every word were like a gentle flowing stream or a subtle blowing air of a cold breeze. He was living in a world that was weaved by her, every string, every colour of this world was painted by her for him.

She was last thing that came to his mind when he closed his eyes. Wordly desires lost their identity as the intoxicating potion of love started flowing in his veins.

She was like a hand that was guiding him though this world.

II

And then everything came back from the past to the present. A crowd had assembled around the body that was very still. Yet there was something unusual about it as one could sense that a final wisp of breath was still trapped somewhere inside

The people watching him sighed in amazement as he opened his tired eyes for one final time, as the light inside those once bright eyes dulled the rainy morning.

And for the last time in eternity their eyes met again. She had the same quizzed look which she had at that time 

when he had pulled her on the moving train.

He saw her for the last time and his eyelids fell down; never to open again.

some months back...

A joyous ride on horse drawn carriage overooking the magnificent taj…some beloved time it was,

your laugh and your smile brightned my somnolent soul,

but then the moments in the black and yellow cab too were no less,

or the feeling of longingness on the volvo from pune to jaweri bazar;

exchanging of notes and something more in a dim lit atm, as i fervently wished it rained

and i leave myself in your hands on a not so empty local train

a whippy dog scares you as we play in one of those park

we say bye and soon the heart starts missing you

When it all started…

Things were changing too quickly for them to react. A moment ago it was he who was seeking answers and the very next moment it was she who was asking questions.

Questions and answers; answers that were hard to come were by and even harder to absorb. And in between all this reasoning and explanation, love, that used to be the soul that connected both of them, was laid into oblivion.

The trust that still was in its blossoming stage trembled as every step taken by both of them to resurrect appeared to be like lighting a candle in a windy night. The hope that the candle would not extinguish once it was lighted, and the belief that it would give enough light and love to extinguish the stark recent days and nights of darkness was pushing them to try more and more. But the darkness prevailed. Darkness that was because of the other forms of love; Jealousy and insecurity.

No longer words inspired trust and no longer was expressing of love the response to all bitterness. The tomorrow that was built of love, of dreams, of moments that were inspired by looking into each other’s eyes, and of innocent touch, was slowly crumbling. Also ignored were the many love-filled ‘yesterdays’.

One was not willing to forget the past and the other was not ready to accept that past as a part of the present. The past that had come back brought with itself the unknown, the invisible yet a powerful poison due to which a love that was still adolescent and vulnerable started withering away.

What he asked of her was to forget the past. But for her this was too difficult 'choice' to make.

Suddenly the so promising future appeared a distinct reality as everything was forgotten in some hours of clash of emotions.

As one of them tried to walk the thorn strew path to the others heart, the painful journey was compounded by words that made the pain even more unbearable. A solace, a silent succor was all that was required to reach home. It never came.

In times of love they would talk about who loved other the most. Sometimes she won and many times he lost. This time no one won.

As Chunmun, the only living being that was mutually attached to both of them, tried hard to fight off an imminent death, the mutual love between the two, too was fading away .

Jaanu and Doggy will never be just a pair of words for them. They never were.

As one of them developed love in dogs, the other one found an added interest in the latest songs.

As is said, good things come in small packages. Four months fifteen days was small indeed. And it was sweet and a little bit of sour.

Memories that will come back will be hard to describe or to let go. Metro, Airport, Delhi haat, morning alarm, sleep calls, Raj Thackrey, CCD, Bhopal,Wadala,Nizamuddin,Bandhavgarh, Patel chowk, Republic day, Bournvita and the not so warm Maggi will sometimes bring fond,warm memories that will make them steal a concealed smile or a twinkle in the eyes.

Memories of time that was felt only by them and no-one else. Of standing in cold nights and watching the sun rise and of witnessing the many a toothless smiles. Moments of winking and waiting, of laughing and crying. Of sweet apologies and a world of happiness. Sometimes eyes may give away the extent of ‘happiness’. They always do.

Who loved whom the more is something that no one will be able to ever answer. Perhaps the saddest part of this tale was they even they themselves were not able to make each other understand how much they loved each other.

Maybe both of them loved each other equally, but some things should be left upon god to decide, for he sees what we may never even imagine.

It was the month of October or perhaps even before when it all started …

The siege

It all started when Delhi, as the media had put it, was under siege. A young writer who was also into freelancing, Abhimanyu could not stop himself from rushing to India gate where a fierce gun battle between the terrorist and the security forces was still raging on.

India gate, like the country itself, had been a witness to many a different vibrant colors. It was a place which saw everything and had seen everything. The peace march, the solemn martyr remembrance, the glory of Republic day, the display of awareness for many a human rights spirit. And now a mindless gun battle. The end of which will be culminated by bodies and blood.

In spite it being a Monday morning, the black and yellow autos synonymous with the streets of Delhi were missing. He decided to walk. The presence of the khaki clad police personnel in the sprawling greens had increased, but the morning joggers with shapes of various contours were missing. The vibrant Delhi was now transformed into a vulnerable child. The silence was strange yet peaceful.

The tranquility was suddenly shattered by the hoarse sound of a security man who was vainly trying to stop a girl from jumping over the barricades that were erected to stop people like her from going too close to the actual spot where the firing was still going on.

The girl was in a white colored suit, with a red duppata that draped her head. An identity card swinging from her neck proclaimed her as a journalism student and read “Meghna”. Nothing was too striking about her, except, perhaps her voice, which was too intense, completely in contrast to her fragile appearance. Abhimanyu had no intention of meddling into what was happening and he deliberately changed his direction so as to avoid the ‘argumentative Indians’.

Soon he was where he wanted, behind a police Gypsy, from where he could get the perfect view to observe and to write, a spot, which could justify the use of word ‘on-the-spot- reporting’ which he would use in his blog. The sound of gun fire had decreased, a sign that the final stand was being taken up by the terrorist who were holed up inside the secured perimeter.

A flock of pigeon flew over the large monument as a loud blast echoed through the area. The earsplitting sound made him loose his ground and he fell. The fall was interrupted by another body; that of a girl whose head was covered by a red duppata. As both flirted with the last few moments of their life their eyes met for the first and the last time. And then without any protest their eyes closed.

The siege had ended.

Love Lives

She asked him whether he can promise her that he will take her on a candlelight dinner, on the coming full moon which was coinciding with her birthday, just the two of them sailing in a boat. He said, "Yes".

Though, he was scared, but then also Joshua was convinced that he would be able to do what he had promised. Perhaps his belief in love convinced him, perhaps.

The day arrived; it was the birthday of her beloved, the day when Joshua was expected to fulfill the promise. He waited for the night to arrive, the moon to rise and sparkle, and then he brought her, his love.

The small boat was waiting, inviting the lovers. The phobia of water, of drowning which was a part of Joshua's life had surprisingly vanished. Presence of love had perhaps overcome the fear, love is more mightier than any fear; believe in love.

He started to row. Helped by the soft breeze, soon they were in the middle of the lake, just the two of them.

The calm, silent blue water had silently accepted the intrusion of the small intruder. The breeze that was blowing was slow and soft, singing a love couplet for the two.

When in love, people become careless, worldly affairs become of no importance, the feelings that arise from deep within the heart, engulfs your mind, hear and soul. So neither of them were surprised when they discovered that the pizzas, the pastas that was a part of their candlelight dinner was not there.

Joshua, was happy, for there will much more time to look into each others eyes, more time to spend while holding each others hand, and just that extra time to bid the final goodbye, the last farewell.

As if with magic, Joshua took out a bottle of champagne, it was as old as their love and as pure. She was astonished, but he was not. After its content was emptied, it was allowed to drift in the waiting arms of the lake.

Their was no need of speaking, for words would have betrayed what they wanted to say, and even if they spoke words would have failed to express their feelings and emotions which only can be comprehended by those who have experienced it. Joshua then spoke, the expressions on his face were that of calmness, as if he had been waiting for a moment and that moment was finally about to arrive. He only wanted to live this moment, and he desired the moment to last forever.

Softly he said " Why were u leaving me behind?" for he knew that she only had few days to keep her eyes open to breath, to feel any emotion, for after those few days, all these things would cease to exist, for she herself would cease to exist, she was dying, her heart had failed her.


Emotions got the better of him, and after a while he spoke, the dilemma, the pain, visible in his eyes. "My dear, my love sometimes you and many times I, must have thought of living happily, spend the remaining life with each other, hand in hand, but fate was not on our side, and like true lovers we shouldn't try to go against our destiny, and it has been decided that we will slowly embrace death, welcome it with open arms, for the champagne we just drank will not allow us to live for more than the moments we need".

She just kept staring, as if to say that she was now happier, more content, and they slowly embraced. They fell into each other's arm, and they waited.

The boat drifted, the moonlit sky turned black, the moon was covered by a patch of clouds and it rained. They died, their love didn’t.

( Wrote this in 2001)