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Just Saying

Just Saying

Saturday, 27 July 2013

You're my love, not life Chapter-5

** There lay a heart that embraces me in its refugee promising me to love till the last. And there I cry silent tears with the thought of getting apart. **

He hugged me tightly. I hugged him back, never wanting to let him go.
“And when you mother wants to get you married?” he whispered in my ear by breaking the silence.

“Three years from now.” I replied, softly.

“So we have three years to live. You should be thankful for that.”

“What you mean?” I asked, departing myself from him.
“You have three long years to get married. It’s enough for us to collect wonderful memories and cherish them all our life. Why should we let go of this moment? Future is uncertain; you never know what happens the next moment. We may not even be alive to see the coming year. We should make the most out of what we have at present. Let’s be in love forever and let’s be together as long as we can, let’s live the moment.” He explained.

I did not know how realistic the words he had said that moment were, but all I wanted to do was to believe him. All I wanted that moment was to dip in the purity of love and feel that ecstasy so sacred. I confessed my heart out. Yes, I loved him back. He seemed to be the happiest person on this universe as I uttered those three words that night sitting on the wooden bench of the resort garden.

We were in love, we were together and we were working for our future. Kartik concentrated on his career and every lecture he attended and listened to with absolute attention. He wanted to be a perfect architect now. He wanted to get a good placement, earn well, be a responsible guy and then, he wanted to clear the next level of our togetherness, convincing my mom! 

Days turned into months and slowly, months began turning into years. Time flies the fastest when you want it to stop; we were experiencing that little play of time then. We did not lose any hope for we were deeply drenched in love. We were living every second of the uncertain time we had in our hand. He graduated the next year and got placed in a Mumbai based architectural firm. He was happy to be independent and responsible. The day he got his first pay, he managed to get me a crystal ring from Swarovski, real diamond he was yet to afford but that crystal held all the pure emotions rooted in his heart. 

My mom knew by then that Kartik meant a lot more than a friend to me but she did not react, maybe she did not bothered, or maybe she did, I could never know.  I was a horrible cook but I used to cook for him every evening. He used to eat the chapattis made by me, they were no less than a rubber like substance but he ate them as if they were the last eatable thing of the world. By the end of two years, his book “My best days” completely filled itself with the pictures of our days, our best days. For all these days we were together, best was just so obvious. Kartik’s flat became my second home, it seemed as if I lived in an all new world were no worries exists, all that exists is the unadulterated form of love. We used to dust the house, fight over the color of the curtains to be hooked, practice cooking together and then, we used to fall tired on the couch watching romcoms. There were nights when he used to snore tired on bed while I sat in front of him and wrote the words of my heart out in the form of blog.

Meanwhile, my blog began touching several hearts. It began reaching people and they accepted it with all their love. I never wrote for others, I wrote to let go of the bondage of my soul, to express and to keep breathing and that purity became the reason to evoke hope in other people’s heart. I just had three important reasons to live, first was my mom, second was my love Kartik and third was my reason for breathing, writing my blog. My life was picture perfect, I was happy as never before. I had every reason to live, it seemed as if Jesus granted my wish, he gifted me a new dawn in my life. The question was, till when?

I rubbed dust out of eyes and realized that Kartik and I had completed two years of life together. I had spent the best two years of my uncertain life. With the end of two years, I had the degree of my graduation in my hands and my mom had the degree of becoming my matrimonial site. She kept searching for the perfect match for me from our community in her database. 

I had no choice left except making her interact with Kartik.  But how? Why mom would want to talk to Kartik for no reason.  I had to find somehow a reason, a reason which would eventually let my mother know more about Kartik.

I planned out a dinner. Though, a typical Bollywood movie gave me this idea. Yet, I was quite confident that my mom would understand and she would let me marry him. Kartik was a nice guy and I just had to make my mom realize this.

“What should I bring for your mother?”  He asked teasing me on phone.
“Nothing required. Just be there on time… ON TIME.!!” I told him twice.
“Yes madam I will be on time… AS ALWAYS” He retorted.

Few hours later moon made itself appear on the blue sky which turned darker.  Hour hand of the clock kissed the “Nine” digit and there he was, ringing the doorbell with his index finger.

I sighed. “Thank god he is on time,” I murmured.
“You said anything?” My mom turned and asked suspecting.  

“Ah… Nothing! I was just saying look he rang the bell exactly at nine.  Was he standing outside since long… waiting for the clock to struck 9.” I smiled, but mom didn’t like the joke much.

She welcomed Kartik. He had brought a bouquet of lilies and roses with him. He presented the bouquet to my mom and said “Hello, mam”. 

My mom took the bouquet and said “Welcome beta,”. This word “Beta” gave me a relief.
“Aditi give him some water dear.” She said politely. She was always polite to me. She never shouted on me. I followed the instructions and offered him some water. Meanwhile my mom placed the bouquet on table and started conversing with him.   I kept looking at them from the kitchen and then took the glass of water after some time.

I offered him the glass but they kept talking and I kept listening to them with my head like a shuttle cork going left and right now and then in badminton. The conversation was going good. Kartik took full advantage of his so called ‘Charm’
“Show him your room dear till then I serve food on dining,” my mom said.
“BINGO.. She trusts him that’s why she is allowing me to take him to my room alone,” my silly mind thought.

I followed my mom’s instructions again like an INNOCENT child and took him upstairs in my room. I did’t know that whether my mom would allow me to show him my room. Still, I cleaned my room for a just-in-case-situation. He looked at the pink wall, the pink curtains and more pink teddy bears around.
Few minutes later my mom called us downstairs and the second half of the badminton game started. They kept on talking and talking and I was listening. She talked about his job, his family. He didn’t ask a single question. He kept answering her with that charming smile on his face.
Time slide to 10:30 and now he had to leave. I bid him goodbye from behind my mom and he took ashirwaad of my mom before leaving.
 “Nice guy, isn’t he?” I asked my mom. Kartik was gone and my mom was taking the plates to the kitchen.
“Yes,” my mom replied with a single word.
“mom I want to tell you something.” I said with the nervousness in my voice.
“What? Now don’t tell me you like him,” my mom said straight forward.
“Actually I do,” this is what I managed to say.
“Aditi, you can’t love him. What if it is just lust from his side… You will get married and someday he will realize that it was just lust.” My mom shouted on me for the first time. Tears beamed out of my eyes. I failed to argue. I ran to my room and locked myself.

I cried for the reason that I failed to argue with my mom. I cried because I failed to make my mom understand that He loved me and it wasn’t lust. I cried for almost two hours. I was expecting my mom to knock my room’s door like she did always. But she didn’t knock this time. May be she was sobbing too other side of my room’s wall.

I wiped my tears and thought of diverting my mind. I browsed facebook on my cell phone. I checked my inbox. It was flooded with the numerous messages of my fans. I scrolled them without even reading and then I found this name “Shamita”. I looked at her messages. There were around 18-19 messages. I read few but then threw away my phone away on the bed. 

Yet, she kept my mind busy. There was something strange with this girl called “Shamita…”

-Dhristy Dasgupta (Blogger at Maple Leaf

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