Euphoria: IV

Read Euphoria III here.

The hailstorm was fierce in the immediate days after he left. And yet, it failed to scare her. She had chosen to wait for him right where he had left only so he could find her easily on his return. She remained there, under the storm, unmoved, unshaken. It was after all in the wildest storm of July when she had taken his extended hand, should a fierce hailstorm really scare her? He must not think she’ll fear away from the unforeseen hurricanes when she outstood the unexpected tempest of August. She didn’t let go of his hand even in the most unfavorable weathers, this was no challenge either. The external voices had a lot to say, she chose not to listen to them. She had given her head the permission to follow the heart; she was to remain by it. He might have had a reason, he might be through something. He’d come. She’d gaze up at the grey sky, praying with all her might, hoping to see signs of Light. Hoping to see the birds again that migrated away along with him. Only she didn’t know the grey was here to stay. Longer than she had thought. Long enough, to change her world; and everything she had ever known.

Her heart had been replaced. She was no longer in possession of something that once belonged to her. The void he left between her fingers ached like a wound that deepened with every passing day. His fragrance was fading, so was the memory of his voice. She’d often hold her breath to let it from slipping...

But for how long?

There was so much she wished to say. So much she couldn’t. She kept waiting for the right time. For the time when he’d place her above all his priorities. When he’ll give her full access to his heart. For the time when she wouldn’t have to fear his departure. When she’d finally have a rightful claim on him. The right time, that wasn't ever meant to come... Only she was yet to accept it.

The nature always reflected back how she felt. Day after day, her longing grew, he never came. And the weather worsened… The river failed to bear the pain any longer and out came its emotions with a sudden gush. The current of desolated river was so strong, it pulled down the Great walls, and ruined everything that it contained within and across its radius. The grand fortress of Euphoria was reduced to rubble right before her eye, and all she could do was stare blankly. Miserably. Helplessly. The miniature elephants, the butter lamps, the color trays, all had flown off with the current and were lost somewhere under the debris of what was fondly built… The city where months ago a sacred commitment was celebrated was now abandoned. Ruined. Reduced to nothing. Under the ruins lied the fine sheesham carvings that were now moldered and left like driftwoods after flood… the festivity was long over, she barely got the chance to completely register it...

He was too many miles away to see for himself how she reveled in the misery he had inflicted upon her. Devastated and overwhelmed, in her melting numbness and hopeless denial, she chose to remain by the promises he had made, and held close the memory of words he had given her. He would come, she'd whisper his name in the quietest of nights, hoping that he'd hear her –but so much at a distance was he; he knew nothing.

The mighty Moors have, however, always known. The Moors could always see him; they, of all, knew he wasn't showing up.
... And there was no going back. How was she supposed to find her way back when she never attended to the pathways she’d been crossing all this way? And why should she have bothered anyway? He was holding her hand all along, what else mattered? They had walked together ever since the journey had begun, or so she always thought. He had offered his hand, he had pledged to guide her through all crossroads under all weathers. But now he was gone. And she was lost in the middle of nowhere. It was no longer the place she used to know. She'd often dwell in her sorrow, wondering why must an emotion, so powerful, so huge, be offended by being confined in a box of definition? He had walked by her side, and what was a joy for her greater than that? Walking in silence together with him, saying so much without saying anything at all. Weeping in his tears, smiling in his laughter. Dreaming in his sleep, musing in his speech. He was her first and only memory in this realm, she felt him better than he thought. She had clung to him in a way he never really noticed and cannot ever really know. So much it meant, if only he had understood.

She had so many questions. So many questions, answers to which were all gone with his acquaintance. And all that remained was unidentified pain somewhere in her empty chest...

The pain was a reminder of simple little things. It was a reminder of all that was once said. The why's have successfully consumed her, and over the course, something sank so low, she failed to find it.

But despite the burning agony he left her in, she continued to wait. For something, ANYTHING, that was to ensure her survival. It was a need. A need to belong. She needed a few words; a few words that will pave way for her. She still relied on him. Only a few words from him, so she could go about finding her way on her own. She longed, to hear his voice for one last time… for one last time to hear him speak, she longed…

But that was then. The longing had switched to dread, she was yet to realized.

*.*.*

The time was moving slow… It was only after she had given up all hopes, when the birds returned. It was sudden. It was unexpected. It was a regretful realization. The snowy Egrets came gracefully fluttering their delicate plumes. The moment their shadows fell on her, a petrifying sensation went down her veins. It weren’t the birds alone. It was him. It was he who had come back. Or so she thought at first.

It was only to his arrival, that she realized she no longer had the courage to face what she’d been waiting for since so long. The birds brought with them what at one point was all she wished for; they brought with them, what she no longer needed.

It was him. After seasons of heart wrenching silence, he had returned.

What for?

She couldn’t follow.

Had he brought cure?

Time would unravel.

He wasn’t the same. She could hardly hear his voice. He was cloaked in a familiar blue robe which he had worn that evening when he had first come. He spoke to her, staying at a distance, unrevealed by the shadow of a tree. Barely visible. When he spoke, he spoke in a hurry. He spoke strangely with a retreating edge to his disembodied voice.

It was clear, he hadn’t come to stay. He had come to lessen his burden and finish the business he had begun a spring ago.

He had a separate city where his Euphoria lived; of which he never fully told her, of which she learned in his absence. He had his own fortress where he originally belonged, long before he crossed her way. He had his own stories, –of which she had no knowledge, of which he had hardly ever told her.

He went on, making no reference to what he had done. He spoke of his pain, which was probably too engaging for him to even notice hers. He showed no regard to the magic they shared. She hopelessly hoped, he was too occupied. He remained behind the shadow, hidden, oblivious of her situation occupied by his own. It was yet another blow to her shaken soul. She didn’t know how to deal with it. It was a broken heart’s misery; the kind of where it was hard to decide what ached more; the knowledge of her broken soul, or the image of his anguished spirit. How was it that a few words washed away all the anger she was fostering ever since he had left? How was it, that now when she finally had the chance to release the rage of despair she’d been holding inside, she felt too weak and vulnerable?

Would hurting him when he was already wounded make her feel any better about her own misery? Was it really so easy, to hurt the one she’d loved so much? It was pain, and who else but she would know better of its torment?

Having said all he had come to say, he waited with subtle impatience for her to believe --all together, all at once. A decision was to be made --one that was to set her free and bring her peace; one, that was to decide the course her life would take from here on.

Believing was a choice she had made a year ago. She made it again.

She made herself realize his pain. She realized he had his own stories of which he never completely made her a part. She let herself follow her heart, once again –for one last time… For the sake of those hollow words that were gone with the wind; for the sake of those forgotten promises that evaporated with the first ray of the burning sun; for the sake of her own self, which was too frail, and yet too strong; but most of all, for him. She realized he had his own miles to travel and his separate wounds that he no longer needed her to cure.

Would not one have asked, who gave him the right to break her in the process of mending himself? There was no denying that he was in pain, but she was in no less. The nature of their pain was different; and it was unsettling for her on several levels. But quiet. It is hearts who have held love close, that remain quiet and let their tormentors walk away, if that is what they desire; regardless of whatever blow they may have dealt.

But no later had she answered, that he returned back from the shadow into the mysterious abyss where he had come from, showing no regard to the journey they had covered together. Too engrossed in his own justifications, too occupied by himself, he didn’t even once look up to see how she was keeping up… He didn’t waste another second and disappeared back into the realm of his own. He disappeared, again, without even giving her a chance to say proper good bye. He hurried back, without letting her bid proper farewell. Why, was the need not felt? Did it not matter? Such was his notion of love; easy to walk in, convenient to walk out… To her, however, love had not come easy, like some sweet feeling bound to come and go away quickly. To her, love was a sacred state. It was an inspiration. To her, love was a fixed mark. It was a defining force that had given her wings; she flew as high as she could, assured that he wouldn’t let her fall. It was faith she was holding close. A faith that he had given her himself. He walked out of her life as conveniently he had walked in.

His delay didn’t hurt as much as his disregard did. His turning away without even looking back at her for the last time explained how much she concerned him. He was gone, with the wind… Gone as if he never existed. Having her deeply diseased in the process of finding cure for him, he was gone…

***

Holding her heart with both her hands, she sat by the river side, wallowing in her sorrow. The prayer she had sent was returned unanswered in the form of heavy sleet.

It was a dream. A dream so fragile, she shouldn’t even have whispered it.


Read Euphoria V here