On the far side of the park in
the pouring rain, she sat at the vacant bench.
See her face, what do you see?
She fell in love; in the wrong time,
in the wrong place, with the wrong person.
But could she be blamed? Since love
is inevitable. It just happens; in the oddest time, with an extremely wrong
person. And fate is always there to make you realize that.
She wouldn’t wince, no matter how
sharp is the blow of this heavy rain falling upon her. It was like, the sharper
was the blow; the more unreal would she take the pain to be. The more drenched
she’d be, the more real will she find her own existence. It was like, she’s
trying to make sure if she is alive or not. She was trying to put the fallen
things together; herself.
Even in this dim light, I managed
to see those bruises of despair on her face being dissolved into smooth lines
of resignation and acceptance.
That moment, she seemed totally
drowned in desolation, absolutely lifeless and dejected; puzzled and lost. And this
moment, her anguish was transformed into ease. It was obvious, that she has
finally submitted to her ironical fate. She has successfully put the fallen
together –herself; leave alone the uncertain duration; because sooner or later,
she was going to fall apart, again.
Was she crying? Or were they sigh
of submission? I know not. I wanted to go up and tell her how courageous she
is, to sit by her side and tap her shoulder for her braveness and endurance. I wanted
to tell her how proud I am of her; of course I didn’t know here, but I felt this
unknown connection between her and myself. A very powerful connection for that
profound instance; because her story, was pretty much my story.
I looked up, and she was gone. When
did she go, I don’t know. Where did she go, this I don’t know either; but she wasn’t
there anymore.
I was left alone, with a feeling
of regret to have missed a chance of talking with somebody whose story was in
union with mine.
Her face revealed a story, a heart
wrenching story; story of love, story of pain, story of despair, story of loss,
story of separation, story of dejection –story of contentment.
I wish to God, to see her again.
Yes, I’d like to see her again.
You know, fate could be really brutal at times. For some, it
begins with misery and ends in happiness; but for some, the misery gets worst
towards the end.
