After some days I lost him again. I felt how severely desperation punched inside me when I didn’t find him on the bus. It drew tears in my eyes, injected excruciating affliction searing my heart in perpetual insignificance. The whole day-long stifling dejection kept me clouded. I found nothing to motivate myself from this dire despondency. I knew he did not care for me. And why should he care? We did not know each other even. It was my problem, my insanity. But thoughts gnawed my mind, scratching me, bleeding my soul. I rebuked myself; I admonished myself; I hated myself. I tried my hard to erase all the craziness, tried to forget, to avoid but my mind didn’t obey my reason. It kept reverberating in pain, in agony, in the hope, to meet him.
Trifling incidents whirled in my memory. Relishing them, again and again, became my habit. The day he told the conductor to stop the bus for me, the days I met him unexpectedly, the day I found him at my stop unexpectedly – all of them came flashing up in my memory.
Really, at that point of time, I did not have the feelings that I wished to have him in my life. What I just liked to cherish was his presence on the bus. I wished to talk with him. As we joined the same group of daily passengers, after a few months when I became quite acquainted with their troop, sometimes he spoke to me, but I never dared to show any smartness. Even I could not look at his eyes, as if he could read me, my eyes so full of passion for him- love or madness. He might read the message embedded in my eyes – ‘Prasun I like you, I like to touch your eyes, so pensive, so indifferent, yet so lovely. I want to talk with you.’
My conscience was tearing me in parts. I knew I have to get rid of my foolishness. It was a sin. I could not hurt the belief of Dipesh. I knew Prasun had his own life that was far beyond me but it was so sweet to face him, to put my eyes upon his eyes… all my resolution and reasoning crumbled in front of that blind desire.
Life is a puzzle; you don’t know what is waiting for you the next moment. Every segment of it is uncertain and ambiguous.
“I’ll stop it, I’ll settle it.” I always thought. But nothing was at my hand…at my control.
Love must be open-ended. you must not feel trapped within. Life has no easy solution but that does not mean it has no solution at all.
Hey, I am Munmun, the phoenix fabulist who wants to tell you stories. I love to read stories and I love to weave stories. I feel life is an amalgamation of multiple stories, colourful threads, and threads of pain, pleasure, hope, and hopelessness. We just need to pick those hues and arrange them, knitting them with our own emotions and perception. So let’s celebrate the stories of life.