Monday, September 29, 2014

Live your love, live your life

(NARRATING A WOMAN IH HER GOLDEN JUBILEE WAS INDEED A DIFFICULT TASK SINCE IMAGINING THAT DEGREE OF SUSCEPTIBILITY TO EMOTIONS THAT SHE HAD HAD
DURING HER TEENHOOD AND TRYING TO PORTRAY IT IN A PIECE OF PAPER WAS ENTIRELY NEW TO ME, YET, THE FEELING I GAVE THE WOMAN POSSESSION TO IN HER TEENS,
GOT ME ARRESTED.)
                     I INDURATIZED MY HEART......

Neither was the spring I fell for someone, nor was the day since I started loving  that person, I am aware of, yet that very feeling that grew inside me is still so vibrant and alive and somewhere,
deep inside, it makes me feel acquainted to the fact that once I fell in love too. Neither was it planned, nor was it forseen. It came like a stroke of breeze in my life- cool, yet so warm.
Perhaps, it was nothing, but a tender throb but then it impinged my heart so deep that it made me start loving the transition.

Until the time, I started encoding my emotions in this piece of paper, its exactly 30 years, 5 months and 17 days since we've lost each other's hold.( U know what i mean.) 3 years prior to that,
I met him in my college function. Moreover,by this time, you must have merely calculated my age then. I was seventeen. Well, a sensitive and refinedly voluptuous season in every girls' lives if
the sentence is to be given emphasis to. Seventeen- the age when you hardly have control over your feelings. More precisely, its no less than an hour of travail especially when you get trapped
amidst that frantic and crazy dilemma of either holding in or letting it flood out to the world, against which you always develop this sarcastic perceptions at the very age. You don't need a
concrete reason to float high on cloud nine but also the tiniest of the tiny issues are not proved inadequate, the next second, to make you feel as small as a crumbled glass or a crumpled piece of
paper. Now, employ yourself to reckon the alteration of feelings that a SEVENTEEN has- totally swerving and capricious. You will never really be aware of the digression that the next turning
might bring because as an experienced old lady now, I have realized that being seventeen is all about not being able to enshrine any of your conceptions within stability and thus getting trapped
in the trellis of ephemeral realism. Most probably, this is why no teen can go the whole hog in any work.

That first encounter with him is still so fresh in my head. Those sparkling brown eyes that caught mine, that tiny speckle on the left cheek of his whitish complexioned face, the curls on his
head, and a mark of cut on his chin. Oh! I noticed every single details of that face. To my surprise, after all this time, how come it still possesses an original vigor in my memory? How come it
didn't fade away along with my age? In a hair's breadth, a whiff of air rushed my lungs and I found my heart was fluttering. Well, now you will probably say I fell in love at first sight. However,
I didn't know instantly.Maybe, it was just an infatuation- just inchoated, yet to be developed. The image was just not going off my head, until I discovered he was my classmate, my
goodness, my desk-mate. Gradually, all those uneasy yet lovely, strange yet desirable emotions invaded me all at once. Time passed by. We became friends and then lovers. I fell in love with him
more and more everyday and so did he with me. Life was beautiful. We were beautiful and we were appreciating the bestowal of god's graces upon us and enjoying every dainty blithe spirit of
youth.

Stupid of me, I used to set down in a diary about what I felt of him, of us. Nevertheless, I never had the valor to express in-person. Once, I even wrote this poem during which all that was
imbibed in my head was his image and the moments we shared. Plato said it right- " Every man is poet when he is in love." (Ha! Ha!)


YOUR LOVE GETS SONANT IN THE CAVITY OF MY HEART
ME FINDS ME SMILING WITH NO REASONS ALIVE
YOUR EMBRACE SO TIGHT, YET SO REFINED
LIFTS ME HIGH IN SKY, N' I FLOAT N' I SURVIVE

MY CHEEKS SUFFUSE WITH BLUSHES
WHEN YOU PULL ME BY MY WAIST
MY HEART FLUTTERS WITH RUSHES
WHEN YOU CARESS ME THE BEST

YOUR TITTER SO CUTE ON MY JARGON
AND YOUR PUNCHLINES- A JOKE
YET, YOUR LOVE SET ME TAKEN
AND YOUR PAMPERS GET ME SOAK

TIME WHEN YOU ANNOY ME
LIKE A BUGBEAR SO DULL
AND MY CLAMOR HURTS YOUR EAR
YET YOUR INNOCENCE MAKES ME FALL

THAT QUAKE ON YOUR GUITAR
OH! HOW IT IMPELS MY EAR
LIKE AM LIVING THAT MOMENT
MY REMEMBERED,
YOUR LOVE-DRURY SO DEAR
DEAR LOVEE,
LOVE LIKE YOURS IS RARE...

That person who gave me the best three years of my life, never knew that somewhere, someone was writing for him, someone was inscribing all her emotions in legible characters and thence
remained just so forever because thenadays, we did not have technologies like my children have these days, that could have helped me. To me, expressing in-person was an insuperable
impossibility.That is the reason why, everything I wanted him to know just got lost into my lungs or some only dwelt in the columns of my diary. But still, he knew that I loved him and I knew
he loved me back. This was all that mattered and we needed nothing to be happier and more content until an outburst of tumultuous storm knocked our lives. The storm's name was castism
which chastised us for our uncommitted sins and thrashed us apart. They said that just because I was CHHETRI and he belonged to a BAISYA background, us, being together was a crime and
that we were criminals in the eyes of society and GOD. Oh! these so-called theist are ridiculous.  What the progenitors had already set, are always to be pursued without any complaints and
impediments regardless of the fact whether they are just or prejudiced. No wonders, as far as in us lies, we did the same. We became  the victim of jeopardy. We knelt down in front of our
erroneous dogmas. We lost.

On this day, I feel glad after looking at the reformations that the society has made- reformations of hypocrisy, reformations of doctrines, reformations of thoughts. Now, when I peek back
into the graffiti of pain inscribed in my heart, I find it so small, so trifling, that I willfully refuse to take notice of it because here is this comfort and relief that my descendants will never
have to suffer what I confronted. All those feudal principles have lasped and the generation today, has genuine right to choose love and stand for it. Although I could not cherish my love for
life, my children will(rightfully). All these years, I have always hoped for his best, wished for his best. And now I feel like I would do anything just to take a single glance at his face. Just to see
his wrinkled cheeks, I would travel thousand miles. He must have lost those beautiful curls by now. Those sparkling brown eyes that I have always loved, must glisten in a thin layer of tears
scattered all over his sclera. I would give anything just to see him in his golden jubilee. I don't know whether I will ever see him again, but I am willing to spend the remaining fraction of my life
with the hope. So, hey you youths out there, you are lucky that the society doesn't set restrictions in your love now. You have an open gateway towards hap and happiness. Thus, take it as a
message from an old lady- "LIVE YOUR LOVE, LIVE YOUR LIFE". Live every day like its a boon to you from god and that you will never have its jamboree tomorrow nor day after it. There is no
 hard nut to crack because there is no thing that can pulverize your zest, no thing that can subdue your zeal and to the top, there is barely a thing that can enfeeble your love as long as you
vow to protect it.

                                                                                                               





                                                                                 



















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