No human life is without pain and suffering, everyone, no matter how rich they are, how happy they are, how satisfied they are, have at one point or the other, experienced sorrow. Life is a mix of highs and lows but sometimes it feels like the lows overpower the highs. I have felt this more often than not and have either blamed god or my bad luck for it. Today a realization dawned upon me, we don’t nearly thank god or our good luck when things do go our way, as much as we blame them when they don’t.
Needless to say, I too am no exception to this rule. When I was in class eleven or twelve, I don’t remember now, my grandmother was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer. It was as if the roof had shattered over our heads. I was devastated. I blamed God, luck, myself and anything and everything I could think of. My mother, who is nothing short of a superhero, singlehandedly saved my grandmother (her mother) by taking her to regular chemotherapy and radiotherapy sessions and adhering to the timely delivery of medicines to my ailing grandmother. My mother’s routine was impeccable, almost like a robot working tirelessly towards achieving that one single goal.
This promise led me to explore the deep crevices of my locality and today I stumbled upon the alleyways of nostalgia. The fragrance transported me to a time when I was a naive young boy and much like how I stumbled upon this road today, I had stumbled upon love.
“No”, was all she could reply. She could not think of anything else than this, dancing to the folklore has been her passion and everything in her life till this date meant this thing. Be it risky as it was, but she was clearly against transition. For her, the nascent had no meaning. Bhagyashree therefore knowingly kicked the opportunity away. In addition, who would look after her mother when she was gone?
They were almost on the verge of completing six months of living together coupled with being in a relationship and on one such fateful night, she was en-route to her mother’s place when halfway through her journey she realized, she’d forgotten an important gift she purchased for her mother weeks ago. On reaching the apartment where they both resided, she found it was locked from the inside. Margaret called an umpteen number of times before her knock took the form of banging, suddenly the door swung open and there ‘her Ben’ stood, stark naked with a particular dominatrix at his feet begging for mercy. Clad in the symbolic latex, she was badly bleeding from her nose and mouth, terrified of the suddenness of events.
Margaret gasped putting her right hand on her mouth and looked at Ben, ‘her Ben’.
Now, as if by premonition, I knew you would leave me,
‘What did I lack?’ I asked myself, I could feel the air around me going sooty and black;
I cried, yes I cried for the umpteenth time; my head ready to burst…
Our love was so pure, perfect; why did it have to end?
I was dying inside from your thirst, needed a ‘drop’ of you to survive,
Watching the tracks I reflect, why can't we go alike them?
A speeding car reminds me of perspective and I start pushing my cart at a slightly higher pace. But I could never reach that speed, even if I lighten my wobbly four wheeler of the love that I was selling, of the love that was already stale. Blame the rain.
I blame destiny for bringing us together, I blame fate for making our paths cross, I blame providence for it did not keep me ready with any contingency plan. You left me, I had no other choice but to forget your existence and time is a great ally to have in times like these. I was flanked from all sides by you, not by any of your skills or good looks or anything that people get attracted to you by. I was flanked by the whole of ‘you’; caught off guard.