I
have tasted defeat in my wins, sadness in my happiness and have had my trust
broken with betrayal. But never have I felt my will surrender to a pain so bitter
and yet so sweet. An unquenchable longing to make her only mine gripped my
mind, body and soul.
The rain now breathing its last of drizzle, I decided to not lose any more time and changed into a dry pair of an old white button down shirt and blue jeans. I made my way down the cobbled path to the small two bedroom bungalow she calls home. A moment of hesitation came over me as I raised my knuckles to knock on the large wooden door.
With awaited breaths I weighed all the words on my tongue and willed it to flow when I confront her. Starting with the excuses of coming to meet her so to review the development of the project and schedule the site-work plan.
Another five minutes had gone by and still there was no movement from the other side of the door. Restlessness set in and I couldn’t wait any longer so I walked round the small alley way to the patio at the back of the outhouse.
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The fire that I have been trying so hard to douse out in my heart for all this time has now settled into a flicker of slow flames at the pit of my stomach. The realisation that my heart has come to call him as its sole owner fuelled tiny butterfly jitters within me. I shivered with the thought of how I could ever stop my eyes from expressing the same if I was to see him. My heart suddenly ached with the forlorn thought that he has avoided me for all these weeks and with the way he works I may not see him for many more.
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I saw that the doors were left wide open and walked on to the back porch looking for any sign of her. I turned looking over the patio a gentle gush of breeze brought the faint noise of jingles to my ears - her anklets giving away her hideout under the shade. Clad in a white chudidaar Kurti with her long hair open down to her waist, holding a flower in her hand she sat with one leg stretched out, head resting on the trunk of the old tree.
The rain now breathing its last of drizzle, I decided to not lose any more time and changed into a dry pair of an old white button down shirt and blue jeans. I made my way down the cobbled path to the small two bedroom bungalow she calls home. A moment of hesitation came over me as I raised my knuckles to knock on the large wooden door.
With awaited breaths I weighed all the words on my tongue and willed it to flow when I confront her. Starting with the excuses of coming to meet her so to review the development of the project and schedule the site-work plan.
Another five minutes had gone by and still there was no movement from the other side of the door. Restlessness set in and I couldn’t wait any longer so I walked round the small alley way to the patio at the back of the outhouse.
------------------------------------------
The fire that I have been trying so hard to douse out in my heart for all this time has now settled into a flicker of slow flames at the pit of my stomach. The realisation that my heart has come to call him as its sole owner fuelled tiny butterfly jitters within me. I shivered with the thought of how I could ever stop my eyes from expressing the same if I was to see him. My heart suddenly ached with the forlorn thought that he has avoided me for all these weeks and with the way he works I may not see him for many more.
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I saw that the doors were left wide open and walked on to the back porch looking for any sign of her. I turned looking over the patio a gentle gush of breeze brought the faint noise of jingles to my ears - her anklets giving away her hideout under the shade. Clad in a white chudidaar Kurti with her long hair open down to her waist, holding a flower in her hand she sat with one leg stretched out, head resting on the trunk of the old tree.
My
heart swelled at her sight, she is a woman with a heart so untouched and yet so
deeply scarred. Her strength and patience told a story beyond her age and yet
her childlike innocence emanates a vulnerability she hides so well. My lips
broke the silence around as I uttered her name- Geet.
a white button down shirt and blue jeans...hayye mar jawan
ReplyDeleteThe fire that I have been trying so hard to douse out in my heart for all this time has now settled into a flicker of slow flames at the pit of my stomach.----- JUST WOWWWW
What can I say...I am really unable to express I am not qualified enough to comment on this Mishti. I feel like a tuksh reader in front of your writing. Just let me read and know that I am loving each line of the story
ReplyDeleteThank you for so much tareef and for liking this small piece so much. the chapters all flow into one another coz I wrote them all as one and broke them after I finished :)
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