[Concluding Part III] - A Fist Full of Memories

I stood there in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. The rain had turned to a slight drizzle. The moonless night, with the rain and the clouds still dark and ready to burst into a downpour seemed significant - so akin to where I stood in my life. I had no idea what time it was...

Looking at the terrace wall, a distant memory tugged at my heart - long forgotten, yet so fresh. I remembered that late evening when Varun was visiting on his vacation, so many years ago - me and Varun stood on the terrace. The sun had just set, and the sky seemed reluctant to let go of the million hues it was painted with, and turn dark. It seemed to hold within it all the beauty, the serenity - resplendent in all the colors of life! Who, or what in this nature would like to turn ugly from being beautiful?

Varun stood very close to me, and together we were looking over the terrace wall into the neighbor's courtyard, as they celebrated the homecoming of their newly wed son. As we watched, I could feel Varun's breath next to my ear as he moved closer to take a better peek. There was a slight breeze that had picked up, and my hair danced with it. Before I knew, Varun gently pushed the wisps of hair from my forehead, and tucked them behind my ears and gently touched my cheeks, and whispered "This is all I need Chinni Ma. Nothing else matters". He then said "Chinni Ma, I wish I could marry a girl just like you in every way" it was a mere whisper - the softest voice I had ever heard. My heart was racing. I could hardly breathe. He knelt down, moved my sari just an inch higher from my ankle, and put my foot in his lap. He looked up at me and our eyes met - as if to ask for permission - I did not realize that I simply nodded. He ever so gently kissed my toes. Time stood still - for just a few seconds. I found my voice, and could barely utter "Prince, I can't let you do anything that's not right. Please leave". He started to say something...but, stopped. He stood up and quietly left, leaving me alone to stand there. That was all that happened, on that fatal night.

I was swept off my feet - in one unguarded moment, I had crossed over into an unknown land, and this relationship had touched forbidden boundaries, or rather had hit an unknown, undefined note - a land dictated by a different set of rules. Rules not made before, but that were made by me, made by us, just in an attempt to define this new bond we had formed. Right here, right this moment.I stood there and cried after Varun just turned and left - I was confused, I felt loved, and at the same time I hated myself - the emotions engulfed me wave after wave.

But, for a woman who was alien to her husband's love, did not know another man's affections, this was something I completely couldn't comprehend. I simply couldn't tag this feeling - the woman in me was touched, and a rhythm that I did not even know existed in me, was played upon - that's all I knew. Nothing beyond that. It was pure in it's truest form - untouched and untainted. I didn't even know what it was.

It was May 04.

As the days passed, I nor Varun tried anything to address what had happened that night, nor did we ever try to give a name to our relationship. I loved him as my son, a brother and I don't know what else, and all he had for me was love.In the end it did not matter.

Today, after all these years standing here, I did not not even know what I was grieving. I knew I had lost something, someone - but who? I didn't know.

I left the next morning back to where I belonged to. Needless to say, Bindu made sure that Varun did not even come to see me off at the railway station. One last look at him, and I never looked back.The thought that I may never ever see him again tore at my heart - but, other than still feel all the love for my baby, I was helpless.
No one else needed me. Harsh, but a bitter pill I had to swallow - life had given me the strength to endure.

I woke up every morning at about 4:00 AM - couldn't sleep after that. Dreams, nightmares, Varun, Arvind - people running, crying, laughing...it was endless torture.

"Chinni Ma, half a cup of coffee please..."

"Chinni Ma, you are my everything....my mom, my sister, and I see every relationship in you". Varun at 21 had said that. Innocent and mature at the same time. All I had done was pat him on the head, and kiss him on the forehead, and thought - my baby.

"Chinni Ma, will you come visit me regularly when I move away on my job postings?"

"Chinni Ma, I'm sooo hungry. Can I eat two packets of oatmeal please?". That was the cutest thing I thought. Feeding him had always given me an unknown satisfaction of being full myself.

"Chinni Ma, can you make this special vegetable rice for me?". For whom would I make it now?

Every single day was a torture - every single day or date had painful memories and was an anniversary of something.

On Jan 22nd we did this, on Oct 27th something else, some other day was special because of something else...where was the end to these memories?

The roads, the foods, the coffee, the setting sun, the moonlight, the hiking trails - everything that existed in nature and touched one's heart reminded me of Varun.

What do I do with these memories? where do I store them - forever? I used to make of note that I had to say this to Varun and that to him - but, never got a chance to...what was I supposed to do with all those untold things, all those things that remained undone...? what was one supposed to do?

He would hold my hand and say "Chinni Ma, I always want you beside me. I will always be there for you - no matter what happens"

So, Varun what happened? How did everything suddenly change? I don't hold anything against you - but, how can everything vanish? It defied all logic - maybe one of those things I never understood.

It was a loss of a relationship and also the loss of the person I was so familiar with and enjoyed being with - both at the same time. Which was a greater loss, I didn't know.

I had now after all this time, found a card from Varun in a book that he had been reading when he had come home on that vacation and when the incident on the terrace had happened...in the cared, he simply said he was sorry ...maybe for what happened on the terrace, or sorry for something else, I would never know.

Sometime I wonder who had made the rule that every form of love had to be bottled and labeled? Why did we need a definition for everything? Wasn't love enough for us humans, in a world fraught with hatred, deceit, and double standards? Maybe I was wrong...

Back home, I continued to live - and put on a brave face. It was mere existence. I did as was expected, by the same society- but, there were only three things on the face of this earth that knew the absolute truth on what I was going through. And, those were- God, me and my pillow.

I believe that only people who have lost something can really fully appreciate the presence of a beautiful relationship or the absence of it. The sensitivity and the depth that comes with a loss is not achievable for someone otherwise - I always thought they lived fake, make believe relationships - shallow and hollow. I still think so.

Varun called me just once after that - maybe to see if I was alive. "Chinni Ma, I'm leaving the country and going on an overseas posting. Just wanted to let you know." I quietly said "okay Varun". He immediately said "Chinni Ma, are you okay, take care of yourself". I said "Varun, take care and be happy - always" He asked me some other questions for the next 5 minutes or so - but, I had stopped hearing what he was talking... I said nothing . I had nothing else to say to him.

The Sun was setting, and it was Dec 31st. The last day of the year. The Sun had set in my life too. Gone forever was my laughter, my little desires, and everything else with it. There was no tomorrow to look forward to...tears burned down my cheeks and my throat...

Me and my memories will continue to live on - I will keep all of them tightly held in my fist - my fistful of memories....

Looking out at the sunset, I thought - I had heard that little baby birds leave the nest once they learn to fly...the mother bird actually prepares them for the flight...and it occured to me that I had done the same too. But, had anyone noticed the tears in the mother bird's eyes after the flight of it's fledgling?...

The skies are vast and blue and open..infinite, with no boundaries, no rules, no expectations...

I silently wished - may you soar as high as your wings can carry you little one - higher and higher...


[The End.....]