Final Correspondence- 2 years later

-
(Wed, 22nd February 2017)

 To he-who-must-not-be-named,

 Today, I went really close to your house. I couldn't muster up the courage to walk down that little lane which you said leads to your house. I think it was because somewhere deep down in my heart, I knew that if I go down that road, there's no coming back. Literally and figuratively.

 Lately, I've been recalling how close we used to be, so much so that you even knew which dimple was deeper than the other. So can I say we were once intimate? Yes, I suppose I can claim that much without any doubt.

 You stil haven't divulged and I still do not know the exact reason for the two of us having to part ways in such a painful manner. But I must tell you that the pain is starting to ebb away and so are the memories.

 The last time I talked to you, I was talking alone. You had once more given up on talking to me. But I remember that you said 'I desire to see you', but I think that was just curiosity. Maybe you're feeling powerless being in a foreign country, in the sense you described to me before- powerless to keep our story from ending. That if I ever fight and stop talking with you, you'll be utterly and hopelessly miserable, because now you cannot walk up to my door and demand that I talk to you.Knowing your tendency to ponder and get upset about things that I consider as really far-fetched, I think that assumption rings true.

 Maybe your extreme paranoia over this disability to prevent a possible grudge on my part might've induced you to end the realtionship for good and bear the pain once and for all and be done with it, than reliving it again and again.

 Fair enough.

 Maybe you didn't give me a reason becuse you thought I wouldnt understand it. So, my only consolations was to build up a reason from the scraps and pieces of things that bothered your mind back then.

 Anyhow, I've given up finding  'the reason'. Whatever it might be, you must've given a lot of thought to it and made a conscious decison, well thought out. I just want to say that I do not hate you, I do not feel any anger towards you anymore. The thought of you is rapidly fading away into a distant dream I savoured with relish, but woke up from long ago. Nothing more. I hope and wish it'll be the same to you.

 So now, two years later, I am finding that I'm finally able to say, I forgive you.

 _Samya_

Click here to read the First letter - Last Correspndence

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Favourite Hindi Poem ~ "Pratiksha" by Harivansh Rai Bachchan

-
Image
"Pratiksha" (Waiting/Expecting) by Harivansh Rai Bachchan Whenever I think of this beautiful poem, my mind wanders off to that one evening when I had to give the oral test for my Hindi Diploma. Being my favourite poem which I knew by heart, I wanted to recite this poem as part of the test, when they would ask us to recite or sing something of our choice. I was eagerly waiting till the white-haired Indian examiner asked me to do the same, so that I can impress him with my passion for such beaitiful verses penned by Harivansh Rai Bachchan Ji. However, in the anticlimax of reality, he was at best nonchalant, staring at me coolly, while I rambled on with a horribly out of pitch recitation of these expressive words. On a lighter note, I did pass the exam, and this poem remained my favourite.  And how I got to know of the existence of this wonderful poem is not through a textbook, or a poetry compilation of the poet, but weirdly from a Kathak dance recital of Sharvar...
Read more

Third Time's a Charm

-
Image
'Because I could not stop for Death –  He kindly stopped for me – ' Emily Dickinson On the second or the third day of being in dengue hemorrhagic state, I woke up abruptly from a very uncomfortable snooze (the urine catheter and all the tubes and IV lines preventing any sort of movement). I found him sitting on the side of my bed. You must know that Death really doesn't look scary. He stroked my hair and said, "you must be tired." I indeed was, even to nod. He took my right hand with the bloody canula and asked, "how much more blood will they draw", then took my left, connected to a blood bag, slowly administering deep scarlet drops into my veins and asked, "how much more blood will they give." Everything was silent. The ECG beeped in reply, "more, more, more." He came closer to me and gently touched the blood pressure cuff that was cutting into my skin. I winced. 'Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked sympathetica...
Read more

What is it like to be in Heaven..

-
Image
I hold on to his shoulder. He puts his fingers through the fingers of my right hand. We straighten our bodies to the correct postures and he softly places his free hand on my waist. And we are all ready to start the dance. He dances so swiftly, never missing a beat. If I ever keep the wrong foot forward, he adjusts his footwork to match mine. It was almost involuntary, dancing with each other. He knows the beat inside my heart and I know his and we dance to that. We go on swirling, swaying, spinning, laughing, dancing till the crac k of dawn, till our shoes are quite worn and it leaves us out of breath. Once our tired feet are relieved from the shoes and soothed by the light breeze, I gently rest my head against his warm, beating chest and listen to its song of pure love. He puts his arms around me. I put mine around him. He kisses the top of my head. We hold on to each other for long. Then we pick up our shoes and walk on our naked soles down the star-lit country road in its glo...
Read more