The Unsaid

Laxmi. The word runs around like a flame that is passed from cigarette to cigarette. One of the major exercises for my mind is to try to recollect the features of Laxmi, who possesses a perfect beauty, an equivalent of truth, which constantly dissolves and torments me. My latest hobby is to scan the faces of passers-by to see if anyone resembled her. 

Every time I watch a black spot on any girl’s chin, it reminds me of her and every time a tall girl walking on the road doesn’t turn behind to look back at me, I wonder if she were her. Whenever I approach my Office at BKC, I often come across the bar where she supposed to happen into my life, I cannot help recollecting with a grim detachment, the state of mind I was in the last and I was with her. The detachment would be forced, the heartbeat fast – Suppose she is standing at the very moment at the entrance.

It is an ideal October night. The muted light of a cloudy day has tired me and I lay with my arms across my eyes, groggy and dazed. Something, a dream trying to be accomplished has struggled to break into my consciousness and the only weight seems to come is of a blanket wrapped around me, nothing more. Also, a medium sized diary with countless dedications lay next to my pillow, a metallic pen inside. I don’t know where out in her world I exist or what priority I would ever reach. I had successfully been trying to keep this very unparalleled thoughts deep inside of me, which grows hour by hour, the burden of what now has become unbearable. So I thought of writing about it. About her. About us. About me.

I can still picture, when for the very first time I saw her- The rest of the city dead without any importance, holding no meaning for me. In about her mid 20s pacing down the narrow lane with her friend. And something within me made me desist; and as her eyes met mine, my imagination was fired and sick with terror my eyes went down, without turning back, lifelessly, aimlessly. So Gorgeous she looked! And my eyes took in the delicate beauty of hers and as she smiled and pleaded for being late, all my anxiety, my stress escaped and heaven couldn't have been better. 

But as I met those striking emerald eyes, I knew before I'd taken my next breath that she were the one I could spend the rest of my life with. She seems that good, that perfect, while an October wind blew through the trees in the night shadow. 

' Two bottles of beer' thus breaking away all my lifetime limitations - it started. Truely, I couldn't feel any inbriation or any drowsiness. Maybe, it was hers company that did so. And as she held me, I became a supernatural thing - or a victim to her. Her touch - broke me emotionally and as her hands sparked against mine, I became a blank. I don't remember anything after that. I gained my consciousness, only the next morning. 

An ordinary and an unexpected beginning, something that would have been forgotten, something that would have been unbelievable, had it been anyone but you.

I found her again with an extreme surprise, the very next day itself, and to my propensity, she wore the same attire, I had seen her first. Sitting just besides her, I admired her as her hairs danced swiftly against my face, in the autorickshaw. And as she burst into laughter, I fell a prey to her beauty and I couldn't help myself either. I want to behold her every day, every hour, every minute. 

At night, I blew out the lamp and sat in the dark wondering about her. There was a touch of despair in my thought- would she like to have any conversation with me at midnights? I tried to force my mind to think of other things. I tried to engage it in my favorite subject of my trip to Lonavala in the upcoming month. But looking at the trees at the far end of my sight; part of mind busied itself the thoughts of her appearance- Tall, beautiful, quiet, disciplined, and reserved and my eyes kissed the delicate beauty of hers eyes.

After dinner, I did not sit in my couch in the hall, but preferred to go to my room and remain alone there. I tried to read a little, I had found a book gripping, but now I felt it was obstructive and I was irritated.

I would often speculate – how she lay down and slept and how her bed looked, could I not just dash into her house, hide in the passage, steal up to her bed at night, crush her in my arms, and carry her away ? 

My heart beat fast at every sight of hers that approaches. A soft mist rose like those of frozen steam as she had said ' I like you'. The tide was out, the raining low. I felt it and I felt she too felt it and when night comes I think and think so much of her and maybe,  she might think and think  so much of me, so on and so forth, one day when I would ask her and when she might say ‘Yes’, and Since then, I would begin to constantly fall in love with her, with every bewildering hour passing. 

A human body in anguished movements, tugged, wrenched, beaten, pierced, stung, scourged, dislocated, flayed, gashed, scalded, tortured and finally broken on the rack. And now I often get scared as well. 

These 2 months of my life will have the best memory of my life. Definitely, when she would be back to delhi, I will cry like a child, maybe both at solitary, or maybe not, and in public and doing almost everything that would be out of my nature. I might find that there won't be any such chance for us to meet again, for me to find her again, as she leaves Mumbai. I will only have some memories that will connects me to her.

I have just no idea whether she will remember me for some reason or a lot about her would change - in some other company or yet, in other affiliation, with another boy, better than me by any means – her beauty enhanced, lips lightened up, and by ‘thought’ even more practical and matured; enjoying and laughing more quickly than she is used to; constantly calling and texting him, spending hours over chats following the midnights.

I’ve no idea how important I will be to her, or if I would be important to her or not, or just that, I would be nothing to her. I only see the tedious stability of this light that never ends, admits the entire uneven glare that issues from the shops, stalls and the mall whereby we passed, together, side by side. This light would be a crass, they might stings my eyes and what I might want would be stillness, silence, shadows – and well, I tell myself, that is what I will always be left with. How this love corrodes with envy and now, yet, I like her, but, above all envied for I never wish her to forget me. 

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