A
certain darkness engulfs his mind. A sound from a different time, a different
place.
The
temple bells reverberate in the choked lane, fragrance of fresh jasmine incense
sticks and dhoop float in the air of
the auburn evening. Few miles away, the
silence of a dull room is broken by her honey dew voice,
“Jab hum na honge to piharwa, bolo
kya tab aoge?”
Every
broken word conjures to form a distance face. She moves around the house,
singing “Khamaj” .
Restless,
he gets up from his bed and gazes out at the temple by the river. The river
dances gracefully, concealing a thousand secrets. A sight of sun dancing in her
eyes, wind in her hair, a smile concealed her tears, a mystery, a story. Did he
not know that she was trying to capture their brief affair in her eyes,
forever, begging of him to stay.
What
was it, he thought, that had made forgetting impossible? He had left the city
behind, the memories of rainy evenings in this room, the nights spent inhaling
the fresh fragrance of her porcelain skin, his hand in hers, their lips, the
sweat trickling down his brows, the smell of their bodies and heart mingled
together, tears, separation, a song, her voice.
“Come
back, will you? Please?”
Regrets,
the sound of mud being squelched underneath his feet, becoming distant with
every passing minute. She had waited. A forever swallowed in his silence.
The
sun turns blood red, gradually. Thereafter, nothing remains but darkness.
