Saturday, September 15, 2012

Being with you..

Landslide is Kohima. I'm stuck in Guwahati, we need to change the time. I'm reaching home after the date we have talked earlier to meet at home. You know how eagerly waiting for that day we will be meeting after facing so much of inconveniences.

It's everything for me -being with you in my sub-conscious mind. Would you mind changing time? I rang up in his hostel 5 times standing for an hour in the telephone booth. Finally, the ring goes but he was not in the hostel but gone home for lairoi . What a bad luck I could not get a chance to talk to him and inform what's happening here. His home does not have a phone and same as mine since then the phone line starting from his place to my place has been burnt and dumped in the river my the miscreants. While living in a hotel in Guwahati I wrote the mail to him without any surety of when he will read and he can reply. No choice and can't complaint about this uncertainty but just have to trust in unpredictable luck.

What good time I spent with him being so close to him though we live virtually 5000 km away from each other. I was in Delhi doing my graduation second year and he was in Manipur. Still lingering on those paths of memory though it was so fragile and I can no longer hold on it. Till today I had only one wish- could I relive in those moments with him. Getting angry with him in petty issues, remembering every word he said over the phone and writing his name in every page of my notebook and jotting down everything he wrote to me in mail in my diary.

Yes, ruchell38 you have got a mail.

Your birthday is coming. Let's fix a chat on your birthday. I was excited from the two days thinking what all I will talk with him. Should I ask him how he looks like now after going to the new college. Does he change anything from the time I used to see him in the school when he drove in the evening in his cycle wearing his school dress to study English literature from Sir. I remember watching him from the window of my class but always worried that if someone noticed me and also scared of him coming to know about me. I used to literally walk away from him whenever he was in the school. May be he will get to know how nervous I'm whenever I saw him even from a distant place.

Well, everything was part of my story I have only shared with my diary in every night after I closed my books whilst watching the moons and smiling at her. I told the moon with a smile, I'm in ecstasy of his love! I will let him talk to you someday and he will be sitting besides me holding my hands, playing with my hair just like evening breeze would do. That day you will look so beautiful..

Sometime, the taunting call from mother disturbed my thoughts about him. In an annoying tone I always replied to my mother like I still have lots of things to study. My diary which I bought it from my friend's shop was the most special dairy, it was from that time I started to write poems in Manipuri. I wish I had that diary with me. That will be source of thousand other poems in my life. I only know how does it feel like living with a diary having so much of stories and love for someone who does not even know me. How sad I was especially when his smile drag me every moments of my life towards him while I was living helplessly in that tiny room of Delhi living with a big dream of becoming someone very independent to fulfill my parents aim without a string of hope of meeting with him someday. I thought his dream will make me a looser and distract me from fulfilling my aim in life. So I teared off every page of my diary and burnt it off. If he ever read those innocent stories written in that diary, would he be one of the most happiest man ever. Till today, he made me the most romantic person without filling the gap in my heart with any clutters and today I'm a writer because you are the one who taught me to feel the love, pain, anguish and hurt for the first time in my life. That flow of emotions will never end till my last breathe. That's the source of my writing and truly you are the poetry of my life.
I know it's late you should go. He would always tell me but we always wait for each other to leave the cyber cafe first. The bitterness of Delhi winter was not enough to stop me from chatting with him till 10pm in the night. Oh! how sweet of him bearing the hit of winter till 10 pm in a lonely cyber cafe in home where no one dares to walk after 8pm. It has been years from now and sometime memories are even fade away so easily, I could no longer hold on it. It's in that September you went away without even saying a goodbye. I don't know why I'm searching for your smile in this big city among the crowd with the hope that we will meet someday and we will be spending another memorable days in this life hiding away from the peeping eyes of the world just like we always did. I'm not tired yet on this long wait. It's the unpredictable faith and the mysterious destiny I'm trusting till now. It makes me disappointed every now and then though I always believe like we met in that July just after the Kanglen, you will come someday to fulfill my promise to the moon to watch her sitting by your side in your courtyard and wishing to her....

No comments:

Post a Comment