She…… My Sweetheart
She…… My Sweetheart
I was reluctant to go but had no other choice. Ma was not keeping well so she needed a companion to accompany her and Vani could not go leaving kids. I tried to reason with Ma, but she was very sentimental and feeling bad. Bua was her age, and both shared a beautiful time together. Her sudden demise made her sad.
The house was full of people. Though it was a sad occasion but it felt good to meet all cousins and relatives close and distant after ages. I was talking to all, telling them about my life and listening about theirs. I was meeting them after twenty years. Faces and structures were changed but still recognizable. All the oldies were sitting in one room discussing their long gone youth, we middle aged still trying to hold the slipping youth, women crying, laughing, talking, gossiping and working in the kitchen, or near the tap washing clothes. Older ones were sitting cutting vegetables, remembering departed soul and instructing the young ones.
Actually this Beena Bua was not related to me. She was a close buddy of my father. Bua was his only friend and mentor. Who switched to the roles of mother, sister, father and brother to my father, who was left alone after his parents and siblings died in a road accident while coming from Pakistan at the time of partition. He was saved because he came few days before with Bua’s father, Bauji, in train instead of a truck. So it was Bauji who became the family to my father and my maternal grandfather. So Bua was more than a family to us. Ma was justified in coming in spite of her ill health and I too was happy that I bought her there.
Suddenly there was a hush in the room. All the loud voices reduced to whisper or a perfect silence. I looked back and… Froze. She was there, with eyes downcast, with a tray of teacups. My heart started beating fast or stopped for a moment…or in between something.. I can not say. I was looking at her and she was looking away with a small nod of head. She had the same effect on me. Twenty years!! I was forty five, and behaving like a twenty year old kid!! But nothing was changed. She was there in front of me with her same style of smile on her lips and same style of hair, clutched in a pin but locks dangling on both the cheeks. She lifted her eyes for a second and I could see there was a request to turn my gaze away. Our eyes met for a second and I could read what they were saying, even after twenty years, I wasn’t amazed.
Whole of the family knew my obsession for her. I was madly and naturally in love with her. I was five when she was born, and that was the precise moment when I knew she was born for me. This was not only confided to me but I made sure all in the family should know this. It was a huge house with so many people living in it. She was the darling daughter of Ravi uncle, Beena Bua’s brother.
So it was a no secret. Everyone from the oldest to the youngest knew it but alas… she did not. If she knew she never told that, or expressed that. But I was sure that one day she was going to be my bride. Life was running at its best pace, she always in my thoughts motivating me, making me think of some big dreams and I was doing that. Stepping step by step on the ladder of success, just for her.
When she was twenty and I was twenty-five, Ma and Papa went to Ravi uncle with a proposal of our marriage. I can never forget that site when Ma opened that huge box in front of me. The soft velvety blue box…. in which a beautiful necklace and earrings were lying royally. I smiled…perfect for her beautiful carved neck and ears. There were two bangles too, which was ma’s favorite. Those were ruby and emerald studded, with a faint sheen. I was thrilled. This was ma’s precious collection that she was going to give her happily.
I can never forget the sleepless nights when I saw those bangles in Vani’s thin and fair hands. They used to make a lot of noise when she moved her hands. Her glass bangles and gold ones used to make a rhythmic pattern whenever she entered in the room or was sleeping with me. For so many days I was afraid to touch her, thinking that I will call her Meera instead of Vani. It was a shock for me, which I was trying to overcome slowly. After so many baseless excuses, I persuaded her to remove them. Now she occasionally wears them, still disturbing.
News was spread in the whole universe like fire. Ravi Uncle refused. He said no for the proposal. I saw Ma and Papa going again and again to their place with folded hands and tears in their eyes but Ravi uncle was not even ready to listen. I saw both of them looking at me, with a pleading in their eyes. They knew how it was for me but still they tried. Even Beena Bua tried her best but Ravi uncle was not moved by anything.
Everyone tried their best even Meera’s mother but it was a no which meant a no. Papa was hurt and humiliated and within a month he fixed my marriage with Vani. And Meera was gone in wordily sense from my world. But not virtually. She was in my life from last forty years, never ever gone for a second. I never tried to meet her, she never said anything but with this refusal all the relations changed forever.
Now Beena Bua’s death got all of them back. Ravi uncle was old, the lion who roared once was at peace now. I hated him, but did not show any disrespect. He hugged me, asked me about my family, with guilt in his eyes and actions. The extra care and love he was showering was just to ease his burden of that guilt maybe?
It was time to leave. I went to Ravi uncle’s room to tell him about my departure. He insisted that ma would stay with them for another week. I tried to tell him about her ill health but he was adamant, so reluctantly I obeyed. Meera was also there. Suddenly uncle asked me how I was going when I told him by car, he was pleased.
‘See Meera your problem is solved, now Viren can drop you back. No reservations and bookings available so it’s better that you go with him instead of leaving alone.’ He was happy with arrangement. The man who did not trust me year’s back was sending his daughter today with me? I was surprised. So was she. We both were speechless. She tried to say something but man had said yes and it was yes.
We started around 5AM. It was a beautiful morning, with the shades of light, in that pitch-dark sky. Birds were chirping, and trees were wet with last night’s rains. Meera was crying, leaving that house where her Bua was no more was tough. She was like a friend, philosopher and guide in her life. So vacuum was evident. Bua who was a spinster all her life left so many relations, which were stronger than any blood ties. I too was feeling bad, and sad. Everyone came out to see us off. We left with a heavy heart.
The sun was still deep into the womb of sky but its orange, red rays started tearing the clouds. I looked at her. She was sitting sad, looking straight, and maybe remembering Bua. Her soft, pinkish skin was radiant like twenty years back. Some lines were on her forehead and she had put on some weight. But her eyes and lips, neck, cheeks were just like I remembered. Her olive cardigan was open, and her pink dupaata was tied in her neck. Her hair was open and with the wind they were scattering on her face time and again. I wanted to caress her hair. The desire was so abrupt that my foot pressed on the brakes with a screech. She looked at me. I was perspiring in that cold weather. I stopped and asked for her permission to smoke. She nodded and I got down and started walking towards pine tress and lighted my cigarette with shaking hands. I must control myself. These hours of travel was answer to my millions of prayers, I must not waste that.
She too got down from the car. Yawned and started walking towards mountains. A small fall was there amidst that huge mountain. She bent and started drinking water from that. The rising sun’s rays were reflecting on that fall and it seemed that the light was oozing out from her cheeks, her hair and her whole body. I was stunned. I was still obsessed but I believe whoever would saw her that time like this would feel the same. The kid in her was still alive and kicking. I smiled and she smiled back. This was our first eye to eye contact after twenty years.
We sat in the car and I started music system.. Faiz Ahmed Faiz started wafting in the air and surroundings.
Gulo me rang bhare bade no-bhar chale
Chale bhi aao ki gulshan ka karobar chale.
‘You and Ghazals?’ with a surprised look she started looking at my other collections. Then keeping the entire set of CDs aside she looked at me with wonder.
‘These are all…those…you threw in the trash’ it was a whisper which I hardly heard.
‘Not exactly….not the same because those were ruined’ I smiled.
It was a warm evening when I went to meet her. She was sleeping but the music system was on… I hated her tastes. Always Ghazals? I collected all her Ghazal CDs and left the room. She was wide-awake because the music was off. She saw me sneaking slowly to the trashcan. With a startle she came running after me. But it was too late, I had already thrown her twenty-five (I remembered twenty-five because for two years she made it a point to remind and ridicule me for those) CDs in that trashcan, which was filled with water. She was mad, looking at me as if I was a mentally disabled who ran from the asylum. Same evening I got thirty CDs for her, but none was of Ghazals. All were the hip-hop, pop, and the latest ones. She never listened to those I knew.
‘You know at the day of your marriage I was sitting in a car, with a revolver in my hands. I wanted to shoot your hubby…Ha ha ha…’
She was startled again, but smiled.
‘No one knows this, you are the first and last person whom I am telling this.’
‘Then what did stop you?’
‘My own conscious, I had lost you so it was a useless fight.’
She was serious again. I knew that time she was thinking that this is the man who loved her dearly and still loves her.
‘You knew that I loved you like mad, but did you ever?’ this was the question, which I framed thousands of times in my mind, in spite of knowing that I would never ask her, but this was repeated again and again in my dreams. The dreams come true sometimes, I had heard but now I was feeling that.
‘You are changed a lot.’
‘I know..but this is not the answer of my question.’
She was silent. I could see her eyes welling with wetness. She was trying to say something but all she could do was look deeply into my eyes and two drops escaped her eyes and shattered on her soft cheeks.
Dono jahaa.N terii mohabbat me.n haar ke
wo jaa rahaa hai koii shab-e-Gam guzaar ke
Faiz was in between her and me and we both were clinging to him like a last straw. I was happy but my heart was swelled with pain. How could I ask her this? My love was total, when everyone could see and feel that how couldn’t she? How was it possible that she did not love me back?
Her mobile was ringing and we were back to reality. She was talking to her kids, and then her hubby. She was a devoted mother and a perfect wife. I smiled, the magical moment was gone.
I remembered when we all went for trekking, she was the slowest one to climb. When we asked her to hurry she refused.
‘Why hurry? Let me climb on my own pace.’ She was taking snaps of mountains, trees, and birds, and stopping at every stream of water, washing her face, dangling her feet and singing. Suddenly it started raining, and thunderstorm was inevitable, but she was least bothered. Everyone had reached the camp but we two were stuck. I held her hand and dragged her along. That was the first and last touch between us. Sometimes when she was in my dreams, I cherished that touch, I could feel the fragrance of her rain drenched body.
Hours flew like wind. She was back to her world. It was dark, she insisted to take taxi from the highway but I was adamant to drop her home. She started giving me instructions and I was listening to her intently.
‘Stop..’ it was a painful voice. She too was not detached. She was feeling the pain of separation again. My heart was heavy and I could feel the physical pain. The lump in my throat was disturbing me. I stopped the car. She took her purse, and started getting down.
She turned, looked at me, I was on steering, holding the wheel. Words were dry and difficult. Nothing came out. She got down. I too followed her. She turned and said bye, with dry lips and burning eyes I said bye too. We both knew this was our last meeting. She stopped, and hugged me tightly. My arms squeezed her in my chest. We stayed like that for maybe a second or two but it would suffice for all our lives. I kissed her hair. And pushed her. She ran without looking back.
I came to car and sat on the seat. The shirt where she pressed her face for a second was wet. I smelled her tears and smiled. Now this road to her house was added to my stack of her memories. Her smell of tears will always remain on my chest. She was gone but with a life long memories of those hours. I started car and pressed the escalator. Ghalib overpowered the stony silence in the car.
kahooN kis se maiN ke kya hai, shab-e-GHam buree bala hai
Mujhe kya bura tha marna ? agar ek baar hota
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