Describe your life in an alternate universe.
Not a life, but an episode in life.
Indelible feeling while travelling in a fast moving bus on a rainy day that made my tears threaten the eyes to fall or not to, to roll or not to, on the slight wrinkled cheeks of 40. “Am I still romantic?” the thought swayed my mind recalling the best moments spend with Be. The conductor’s garbled voice broke my momentary epiphany that made me aware that I need to get down.
Descending down from the bus, I looked at the gloaming sky that let the birds chirrup all around, someone reminding the others in the flock, “It’s getting darker, we need to go back home.” I hummed the tune, “Kya huwa Tera waada…..woh Kasam , who irada….bhulaga Dil, usdin tumhe, jisdin jindagi ka aakhiri din hoga…” (What happened to your promise, that vow, that intention…heart will forget, the day my life ends…). My feet took the rhythm of the song on the pavement that was filled with water here and there, which was often accompanied by splash on the ground from the moving vehicles on the road. I looked at the bridge and then the watch, ten past five it read. I walked a little faster with the thought that if only you were waiting for me here. It had been years that I did not see you.
The white benches placed along the footpath of the bridge where now grey. But there, not many days ago, those chairs were painted green. I left my people somewhere in the other world, and there was no way I could send them the message that I was alive, but in a different world. To the calmer wind I said, “Please send the message of my well being to them”.
Somewhere, my heart was still singing the rhythm of the song because, there were no groaning suspicious judgemental eyes trying to catch a sight of me. I, as always, longed to meet you here, away from all. A twin thought too emerged about the inconvenience regarding your transportation to this world, because you were late to reach on time. My hope to see you was endless. It was, as if I were meant only to wait. But, it’s okay because hope too is there in waiting.
I quitely took a seat on one of the benches and stared at the tall buildings those were painted in the vast canvas- the purple sky embracing whatever is on it. At the backdrop of the tall buildings were the multiple flyovers. It started drizzling, perhaps the grey patches of clouds were unnoticed by me. Accompanied the rain, was the humid breeze that made my waist length hair more frizzy. “Be, wil you be late?” I asked to Be, as if I was in a telepathic conversation with him.
“Me, I won’t be late this time” a heavy voice whispered into my ears.
Seated, I turned around to find Be smiling at me while holding a folded umbrella. “Do you still want the drizzle tease your skin?” he continued.
Words fail usually, but this time I said smilingly, “Yes, let us both be under the bigger umbrella,than the one in your hands.” He understood what I meant was the sky.
Within no time, I broke in his arms letting my trembling tears mixed with the raindrops on his navy blue blazer. With a warm kiss placed on the temple his arms tightened around me. The bulge of stomach that he once had would not allow his hands around me, but now after the surgery at the age of 50, he was better. However, his stomach missed my pokes. I smiled, with a relaxed heart I said, “I miss you Be.”
He kept his promise. We were there to live the days we have it here untill the next thunderbolt that would roar, without a warning, behind the fourth pillar of the bridge, and then within fraction of seconds we would be transported back to the world of questions, a parallel universe.
@jishti 26/08/23
Sprinkled feathers 