The tremulous sky had its call as it roared its way out of nowhere into the entangled myths of life and death, bringing with it the obscure realities of a trembling heart and a petrified soul. The stage could not have been set better, for there was a hint of hysteria in the minds of two characters who till the day before, used to be considered worlds apart. The dog and the pony show had now turned into a live 12 rounder. The naïve feeling of superposition that remained in Romeo’s mind was veiled by what was to come in a few minutes. It was the real test of his agility, his mental composure and audacity for which he was famed.
For a moment he thought that he was on his way to hell in a hand cart, but his desire to speak out, to talk about the years of injustice that he had faced in high school impelled him. He could simply not resist. That was it; it had to be it. It was in the winter of 2011 that I had conceived of an idea which, in my eyes, was neither a drama nor a sonnet. To me, it was a curious half-way between these two archaic forms of imagination.
That day I had felt between the stools. I had very different emotions. My nervous system was switching between potassium and sodium so I didn’t realise the events that took place in the background. I was sympathetically attached to this Romeo who was lost behind the interlacing boughs in the pine forest in his motivation to open up his feelings. This attachment between me and this Romeo, identical to me, was little more than absurd to the outsiders (they used to think that my heart and soul are of the same being). But to me and to my clenched fist-shaped organ they— at least for that couple of minutes—were different. The Romeo in me had to vanish if I wanted any chance of taking out those magical words. In course of this transition, I was knocked down many a times. The punches pounced upon me like flashes of lightning on a skyscraper far above the town. But it was God who gave me the strength to stand up against this Romeo .I was finally ready.
God was the director, and the script felt like that of a bodice ripper. The second character of the story arrived at the scene. She had been collecting dust for some time, but my inner instincts were not easily tortured. Sticking to the basics I decided to make intriguing and bold moves. Ever since the day had begun with the sun gleaming against the newly installed solar panels, I knew I would be the first one to do it. I knew that I had to do a lot that day, but of all the things, my desire to tell her the truth was the most important. With this thing in my mind I started moving towards the classroom as a fish-market crowd gathered around me to see the tale of their life time. I realised that I had to take things calmly and coolly for I was entering a new chapter of life. I knew that the second week of February was the right occasion to start a new life (I had heard tales of valentines and of the fourteenth of February). Then I sensed something, like a swallow sensing thunder in the air. It was a mixture of the sullen superposition of something unknown. As she moved into the classroom with her friends who were unrecognisable in the mist of supernatural cavities, I got my cue.
That was it. I had to do it .I was confident and composed, but when she gave me that look, I was motionless. I was not myself, at least for a couple of minutes. But in those two minutes my soul came into action. Never had I sensed something so conflicting as I did on that foggy day of February 2011.
Then, in a fraction of seconds, I was off, into the sentiments of the Homo sapiens, to tell her what I had longed for twenty-odd months, to free my cardiovascular arteries from their state of sorrow and pain. I took a step forward like a lion does to show its superiority, but I knew I did not have the claws and the canines. I was contained by the magical words I had in my bag, however, with that step a sense of anxiety prevailed and I knew it wasn’t the end.
I had to take five more. I took the second with increased cold sweat. Then came the third which gave me my first odd breather. I realised that she was muttering something to her friend. The elegant girl with the beautiful black hair had the look of a queen of the heavens. With her long flat nose held high in the chilly morning wind she didn’t looked that impressive .For me she was still the epoch-changing mighty goddess of compassion. I was sticking with the basics and for all the things in the world I couldn’t help myself when she went down to pull her socks up so that nobody would have the right to see her above her knees. I took the remaining two steps with increasing ease as her fluffy hair showed me the sign of what was to come in a few seconds. As I came closer I could distinctively figure out her pursed lips trembling in the cast of a shadow. The last second came and went, with this Romeo scrutinising the eyes of his Juliet. The big moment had finally arrived. I took the red red rose from my pocket and gave it to this Juliet. There was one square inch of silence. The inch was getting bigger by the microsecond. I realised a lot in that fraction of a second. She was more than just beautiful; I don’t think there is a dictionary word that justifies her beauty. Her baffling look was one thing, but it was her lying eyes where her beauty lay, black brown eyes set extremely far apart and lashed so thickly that they seemed to guard the sacred verses of the holy book.
I took out those three words. I knew I did. Those words gave me a million dollar smile on her part, and took me to a wonderland of bliss. To my utter dismay the bliss was short-lived. A silence I did not recognise cloaked the scenery.
I had had an intuition about it before dawn .I had waited to see whether there was something for me. I waited. I waited, for a second, a minute, and an hour but she did not show any signs of telling me back those words which made me weak at my knees .She didn’t move, She didn’t, She really didn’t.
- Asim Gautam
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