Thursday 12 January 2012

HER RECURRING DREAM (Binita Rai)

She was waiting & suddenly but carefully, he hugged her from behind. She knew the touch, so familiar & realized that it was him. She turned around, looked into his eyes & he smiled his smile. He took her soft, petite hands into his rough ones. Her heart which seldom makes her feel its presence, except for the scientific fact that it works & pumps down her chest, started beating & to quote in her own words "came to life". The mere organ of the circulatory system felt her feel & responded in its own arterial ways, but then she opened her eyes.

In an instant, in a nanosecond of a time, in a rush she was dragged out & couldn't even grab her dreams & bring them along with her, to the other side. She couldn't remember a single fragment of it & likewise didn't know the reasons behind her fluttering heart & her being ferociously happy in an early morning. She looked around her & saw chaos; noises, sights & smelt to sense in.

And suddenly it dawned upon her-the reason for her happiness. She found it, it was him as always & she smiled.


Nobody owns the trait to bring smile to her face, make her feel happy & lighten up her heart, but him. All the magic works when he is around, when her first love is around. He's been visiting her dreams quite often lately & she on her turn has made a few, reluctant steps to bring it all to an end. She doesn't know about his whereabouts, has stopped asking about him to his friends & she believes that he probably has some other hearts to work his magic on. She makes a brave face & acts like she doesn't care, like none of it smolders her deep but there's never a single, soul-searching, lonely moment when she doesn't close her eyes & takes a silent trip down the memory lane, to her school & to his first day as her new mate-class mate, soul mate.

She reminisces the moment when the bright, sunny day meant nothing to her when he was not there in the morning assembly, the innocence of filling her lungs with as much air as possible because he is breathing the same air, the teasing of friends & the shyness, the hours spent in front of the mirror prior to the silent dates, the cliched love songs that made sense & the piece of her heart that she gave away. Yellow never was her favorite color & she never was a bubbly girl but it all morphed, morphed for good & she wished for nothing but his love in return.

Eventually a day arrived when there was nothing sweet & lovely to say, no more good feeling to feel & an end to happy endings. She took the road that everyone chose, the road of love & she suffered, was betrayed. She cried over the deep crevices & wounds, the emptiness he had created over years in her heart. She blamed herself & blamed the God. She no more kneels down & prays but unknowingly, she surrenders to the bitter sweet changes he & his dreams brings in tow & nods her head in agreement every time Sheryl Crow croons "first cut is the deepest”.

Hence, on days like this when he haunts her, in her dreams, she smiles at the forgotten moments, at his smile, exhales & moves on with the pieces of unwanted dreams, roaming all day in a loop.

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