And it was you

 

For  days I did not see you. My sentience has failed miserably for I suffered from a protracted biliousness   that evolved over the last few days when you were too busy to notice my mental shiver. The world around me is still not in   tatter. The cool breeze from the north still surrounds me with a tremble emanating from somewhere, could be,   ethereal. Your sangfroid as usual is unperturbed. Everything   that I do appears to be absolute nostrum   prepared by some apothecary who only needlessly laughed at my presumptions. For me the firmament is ever crowded by the unwanted clouds that only hinders my access to the pure   moon that you embody. Quintessentially   my surroundings   are suffused with the fragrance that you unconsciously carry with you ever since you   crossed my path, might be inadvertently. Your odor hangs in the air, fills me with a dumbness  yet to be addressed. Am I crying? I only ruminate endlessly, at end I fling myself in that endless promiscuity whose source is unknown. yet.. none would ever cross this elegy, neither they would enquire the asinine iconoclast whose existence is precarious. New morning will herald a new life impregnated with all the seeds of success. Yet my heart will still throb. In a tremulous hand I would still pluck up a few white chrysanthemum and dare keep them there where you deigned to keep your supple fingers the night before. While I am cloistered within the four glass walls   and asphyxiated I presume you float freely all around me. Yet my longing for those hot quick breaths of yours elude me throughout   the day. My premonition that your footfall one day will   finally kill my endless longing for a glimpse of your face lies shattered in a fathomless depth of hopelessness. Memory of those happy moments that ever thronged in my mental frame were continually embroiled   in friction caused by a nameless  magician’s wand leaving me sequestered in an island of icy breeze. I vainly search for the warmth I lost in a dreary desert that even trammeled   my existence so easily.

                         Are   you the seraphim everybody adores or are you the lost angel still looking for your flight path in my dream? Are you that mermaid who visits me every night or am I the orphan who lost his youth in the struggle that overwhelmed every streak of my life, a life chequered by events over which I had no control? Even then your presence benumbed me. Your smell hung around me whole day and even night. Your sartorial elegance was confined to the misty veil across your bosom when you visited me. It is still in my full view. Your black   fringe on forehead straddled across your face suffusing something from some other world. The sharp aquiline nose of yours   is reminiscent of those   pictures adorning the walls of Mughal palaces that you might not have visited. Because you needed not. Your supple lips vibrate when you make an attempt to talk. Your lissome fingers quickly retreat on touch as if it has exceeded its authority. Exuding   an exotic smell your bosom     strives to free itself from the gargantuan grip of your clothing that maintained a very strong will to keep it confined. Whiff of this fragrance is not lost in the air. Rather it is pervasive all over the   small cubicle I have for myself. A shaft of sunrays that dared to fall on a drop of sweat  reflected on your cleavage and rolled down on the declivity of the valley of your navel. Your straight black hair stood in definite contrast   with the glowing face that harbored a hope of a new life with a unique outcome. I recall the day when you made an investment to straighten your hair that was otherwise curly and beautiful but it did not have the look of the hawser. You wanted to have a different look.

Do you really know how beautiful you are? Reflected image of yours even on a tall mirror does not really tell the whole truth, cannot describe the opalescence you possess ,can not spell out the infatuation I have for you . Do you realize that a woman turns beautiful   only in the company of a man who awaits her sight with eagerness. Do you feel the transmogrification that you undergo   when you visit me? The words you spell out has a trilling effects in my ear. The unspoken words of yours carry a much greater meaning to me. You pummel on the table and I listen. You tinker with your telephone and I am amazed. You wangle me and I go into ecstasy. I shudder when you send me an invitation on Facebook. Your bosom bobs when you forcefully jump on me to propound your thesis on your beauty. I agree for I cannot differ with you. Your strong   sinews make up for whatever weaknesses you might have had. Each and every limb of yours speaks of the transpiration that I absorb avidly sometimes at the risk of being turned  into a libidinous self. Your footfalls are awaited with a raving eagerness you hardly know. I could not give you any logical response to any of your gestures. I only suffer from the oleaginous talks they offered me, a foundling who could never penetrate the shell that surrounded you. Your pouted lips leave me in a whirlpool of  thoughts that make me stoical for I have gathered the fortitude to bear the pain  you shower  on me. You change your attire every day. Your fondness for colours is an envy for a few. You invite my opinion on such occasion. Your dresses are mere appendage. You are more beautiful than the collection of all the colors you possess. You never know it. Do not take it as a mere panegyric. You visit me in my sleep, something betides there that I cannot explain. I shiver. My heart throbs. My palpitation grows. I turn into an adolescent to surround you with my spell of love. My act of voyeurism   goes unnoticed yet I wonder if I had lost you in some unknown land. I try to touch you. But you slip, I am peeved. I suffer  from a mental scrimmage, an angst. Your quaint self gradually dissolve in the   dream that I pine for. Apparition of your self is what grabs me consciously, takes me into a far flung land never visited by anybody. I am isolated. My perspicacity fails. I blather.

   Do you recall the day when due to inclement weather most of your friends remained absent from their office. The raging storm   pulled down a number of trees on the road along with a few thatched homes. The roads were flooded with knee deep water. The scared cattle mooed incessantly in a strange fear. The roadside shops did not venture to open their shutters. Yet you braved the weather. You only knew how you reached your destination that day. You did it. You were drenched. Drops of rain water  stuck to your forehead  glistened  even in the absence of sun. Your wet clothes wrapped your body tightly to confer on you a seraphic beauty. Somebody might have turned raunchy at the moment.  Who could say. I was only a witness. Soon   we shall be parting. You need not wing across the ocean to find me. We will be lost again in the green meadows, in the blue sky, in the green ocean , on the white mountain peak. Still we remain.

                                                                                    Yours.

Nitish   paused for a moment. He could not sustain the pressure. While on one hand he was nearly separated from Esha for   almost a month he could not vent his painful eruption to anybody rather he felt bamboozled. Why and how of the current state was not important to him. He was somehow under a spell of some uncanny behavior. He tried to disinter the whole past in case he could find a speck of assurance. His memory lost its patina. It was fading very fast. He lost complete control on anything that betides even in his own domain. It appeared to be an aeon when he heard her voice. His peripatetic life  is taking him away further. Soon he would move to a new place with a new agenda. A young man in thirties, Nitish already turned into a nomad. After his graduation in arts from a Delhi college he moved to Mumbai via Kanpur where he was in charge of sales of an engineering company. His two years stay in Kanpur was marked by a few successes that finally elevated him   on his career ladder. This upsurge continued for a while. He moved to a new company as the head of its all India sales division. In Mumbai he had much of the comfort a careerist could think of. He had a sea facing flat in Worly. The windows opened to a heavenly sight of a blue ocean endless in its vastness. A gaggle of sea gulls would float on the   shining water as white wavering dots. The window panes would screech often with blowing wind. Window sill would reverberate with the high tides in the morning. Moonlight would open up a new canvass of a quite sea dotted by a few distant yellow lights. But it was an emptiness that would hang on throughout the day. He could not kill it despite his enormous struggle with it. Sometimes in the evening he would try to fill it with Jack Daniel he was fond off. He was alone, did not have the time for tying a nuptial knot. Weekends he would spend in some pubs sometimes sharing the table with one of his colleagues. Still thirsty for a new pasture he found a country specific job and subsequently was posted in   Hancock in Michigan.

The lake Superior opened up the same vastness he was earlier acquainted with while in Mumbai. The same void once again gripped him while at home. He chose the evenings to stroll on the bank of the lake. He would sit on   the escarpment   and look straight   to spot any distant ship in the evanescent light. Sometimes a few ripples would break on the water line much below. He would try to count the ripples with perfect attention so that nothing is missed.This is where he met Esha sitting on a bench in one of those evenings. It was Esha who broke the silence one day

“hey, stranger. I find you visiting this place frequently.”

“ yes, I need solitude. This place is perfect for me. I come here almost every evening to count those waves.”

“counting waves? Is it your passion?”

“it has become so. But you also come here quite often.”

“yes I live nearby. By the way how long you have been here?”

“three months.”

“I am here for three years. I am yet to see a man like you. It is turning dark , I must leave.”

The conversation ended as abruptly as it began. Names were not exchanged yet.

It was a fortnight later when Nitish knew the identity of the woman named Esha. She was a teacher in the business school of Michigan university and lived alone near the university campus. She hailed from Brazil the land of the Amazon. She would drive a land rover powerful enough to survive the coldest months and still navigate the uneven land there. Apparently a termagant lady with a triangular fringe on her forehead Esha quickly developed a fondness for Nitish. Esha simply acknowledged that she never visited India. Yet she had a longing for a country that had given birth to so many sages. Somewhere in thirties Esha was bursting in beauty. Her deep black eyelashes were too enchanting as it was exotic. With a well built structure she was difficult to be missed even in a gathering. She possessed a baffling quaintness along with a thin groin that could have been the object of   envy for its capacity to ordain an angelic beauty to her. Her curly black and wiry hairs often would dangle before her forehead to harass her nose. Her bosoms were too alert to deflect any unwanted intrusion by a leering eye. Her guile is well preserved within the guise of her taciturnity. Her long fingers were embellished by colorful paint that made its presence vivid. In this green forest on the bank of the Superior her swagger was in tune with the vastness of the lake and solitude of the wooded front.

               She used to drive almost every day through a serpentine road on this wooded high land skirting a river that sprung from the lake. The trees somewhere tall enough to block sunrays lined up on the hill side while the river front was open with grassy slope. The evening sun before departing would leave a golden note on the placid water of the river. Sitting on a   bench she would spend the  long evening scanning the horizon where the red sun would   suddenly   dip in the golden waters of the lake. She would hear the footfall of the all enveloping darkness that would obliterate the whole lake leaving her alone on the bank. Entry   of Nitish in her life proved to be a palimpsest. She began waiting an extra hour in the forest to talk to him. One day she invited him to a dinner at Ramada on the bank of the river. Nitish agreed.

         It was 6 in the evening. Daylight   was yet strong. Initially it was a disturbing fact for Nitish for he could not accept this long evenings. He used to wait for darkness to fall. It would be a long tiring wait till 10 o clock at night when the streetlights would glow. He occupied a house in the bank of the river opposite to the now abandoned copper mine. He would comfortably position himself on a couch with a few glasses and cast a vacuous stare on the hill on the opposite bank .

             Esha was spotted waiting. For Nitish it was a nightmare   to park his car in the zone allotted for this purpose. His black Honda demanded an extra space   for maneuver than what was offered by the car crowd. He jostled for sometime before he could come to a state of equilibrium . As he emerged from his Honda he was enveloped by a cool bridge that disheveled his hair a few strands of which stood erect. As he approached the porch Esha   came  near. She touched her forehead with a reproach, tried to press down those hair strands and said;

“ I have kept one table for us. But you are late. I have been waiting…”. Nitish did not allow her to complete the statement. “ I am sorry. I do not know why   I am late. But late I am. Forgive me.”

Esha   led him to a table at the corner. The glass wall   opened another vista just opposed to where they spent some evenings. The riverfront was bustling with various activities. A white Canadian ship was on anchor on the other side of the river. The cantilever bridge on the river stood guard as an angel to protect the city. Though sparsely populated the city hotels were full to their brim with tourists mostly from south. Esha sat opposite to Nitish sharing a small table. Her one hand was spread on the table while she chose the other hand for resting her head.

“you ask for some drinks. I believe you need some.” Esha said.

“yes. Would you like some wine? Wine from your country?”

“ do you like it? We can ask for something like Salton flower or Soul Marlot.”

“I do have no particular preference for these  wines are unknown to me. You may ask for whatever you think better rather tasty.”

Esha waved at a bartender who obliged . “yes, madam”.

“serve us some wine. Salton will do. Also serve bread , some rice and white fish.”

“ you are here for last three years. You must be knowing the place well.” Nitish spoke.

“this is a small place, quite remote for that matter. Here the settlers are mostly Finnish fishermen. Earlier this place was connected by rail to Chicago. But that service is withdrawn quite long back. Currently it is connected by air to Minneapolis . you must have seen the airport. It is a very small one.”

“ yes I have seen while   I landed here.” Nitish acknolweded. “ tell me something from your life.”

“there is not much to speak about. I was born in Rio. I did my master there. I came to US for doing my doctoral programme.”

“oh, lovely. You are a doctor, a scholar.”

“yes , you can say so. But it ends there. Currently I live here.”

“ how is   that you are still alone?

”because I could not live there. I had to migrate to this foreign land.”

Food and drink were served. Two glasses were filled with red wine that was quite exotic apparently sourced from a recondite village somewhere in the Amazonian basin. White fish was served in two plates. Bread came in a small basket. Rice rich in colour   was served in a bowl. They raised a toast.

“you are not talking. Tell me something more.”

“ I was married five years back. But it did not last. I had to break it. I broke the marriage. It was one of the most tormenting experience for me. It was so agonizing that I used to pine for liberty every moment.”

“you need not   recall your painful moments. They are past. To me you are a successful scholar, a teacher in a business school. I would like to cherish only this fact. I am in a way ecstatic to have your companion here at this moment. Allow me to cling on to this moment, this evening .”

“ would you like to travel with me to Minneapolis day after tomorrow morning. I need to meet one of my teacher. We would necessarily stay the night there.”

“ how do you plan to go?”

“I will drive. It will be a pleasure for me to drive with you sitting beside.”

“your   appointment is already fixed. Is   it?”

“yes.” Esha beckoned the belle waiting at the counter. “please send some body.” A man appeared with a tray in hand.

“ could I serve you some more wine?”

Esha looked at Nitish with a supplication that secured a nod from Nitish.

“get one more bottle.”

“ are you enjoying this wine?” Esha desired an affirmation from Nitish.

“ yes, yes. Very much. You desire me to accompany you to Minneapolis.  Are you Sure? No vacillation ?”

“of course. I shall pick you up in the morning.” Esha   tweaked   his nose. It happened so abruptly   that in turn Nitish quickly grabbed her palm.  There was no semblance of protest from her. He shared the momentary warmth with Esha for a while.

Darkness crept in when they finished their grub. Nitish did not allow Esha to settle the bill. With Esha’s hand in his clasp   Nitish came out of the hotel when the stars came alive in the sky.

                 Nitish was awake the whole night, looking through the window with some unknown expectation. A crescent moon was the witness along with a clump of trees shadowed by the darkness outside.. This was the first incident in his life when somebody like Esha offered him an open invitation to travel together over a long distance. He still did not know much about her. Yet his   excitement  knew no bound. Were those two mortals   caught up in the giddy frisson of a new romance? Answer was not immediate. By 4 o’clock in the morning he left his bed. He took some time to ready himself for the journey. He prepared a cup of coffee for himself when he heard a light knock on his door. He rushed to open the door. Esha stood   there. Her blue sedan was parked on the road.

“Are you ready? “   Esha enquired.

“ come in. I am ready. Let us share a cup of coffee I have prepared. We need to embark on a long journey.” Nitish said. Esha obliged for she did not appear to be insouciant. A couple of minutes later they were on the road when morning   day light broke. Esha was on the wheel. She did not talk. Nearly after an hour the car entered Wisconsin.

“I see you have a good control over the steering wheel.” Nitish threw his observation.

“I do not know. I have been driving quite long. We have not taken any food yet. I have some pretzel . you can try it.” Esha spoke.

“ should we not stop somewhere?” Nitish enquired.

“ we have enough gas to run for another two hours. We will take our break fast while we fill our tank.”

The car took the state trunk highway 17s. This was a beautiful run. Green hills lined up both sides of the highway. Traffic was thin. The road was free from any obstacles or even any police patrol. Esha   slowed down the vehicle taking the rightmost lane. A bp petrol pump on the road side was noticed by Nitish. Esha took a turn towards the pump.

“ We are going to fill our tank and also our stomach.” This was more like a statement from Esha. Rows of cars were parked in the station. At   one end there was   a series of eateries. Nitish disembarked along with Esha. They walked together towards the end. Her face was illumined bright by the morning sun. The air was cool. His hand was already in firm grip of Esha   when they approached a shop selling savories. They picked up a few sandwiches along with some chicken nuggets. There were a few high rise tables to facilitate people to eat while standing. They chose one just outside the shop.

“lets have some coke” Nitish advised. Esha concurred.

             It was   evening 4oclock when they reached Minneapolis. After a few twists and turns Esha reached a hotel. The car stood at the porch.

“come out. Lets find a room.” Esha commanded.

“you wanted to meet somebody. Did you not?.”

“of course. I needed to meet you.” Was the cool answer. Nitish fell silent.

“one room. “ Esha asked the executive. The choice of a single room for both of them was quite bewildering for Nitish who murmured “only one room?”.

“yes. Any objection. You can not stay with me. Is it?” Esha replied. Nitish had no way to extricate himself.

The room of the Swisstel was located in the twelfth floor. They were welcome by a fragrance that enticed both of them. She stepped in first and beckoned Nitish who appeared to be hobbled. Tethered to his own values he had initially some difficulties in accepting this warmth. But he succumbed to a gentle force that he did not know.

The evening rolled in to night. The streets below glittered like a star studded long necklace snaking through a concrete jungle. Esha tired from a long drive sat on a sofa. Nitish was equally fatigued. He took the other sofa to stretch his body. Nobody cared to switch on the lights in the room. Diffused light from the streets still entered the room through the glass window that created a few faint   shadows.

“ Do you know why I called you here? I wanted to tell you something I could not say in Houghton.. I could not say with all the force how much I love you, how much I care for you. My nights were equally difficult as my days were . I looked for you whole night. You do not know how many nights I spent sauntering in my garden. I stopped looking at the moon. The stars in the sky turned anathema. I only suffered from the contrition. My heart throbbed. Yet I could not express it. Every evening I decided to tell you how much I missed you that day. I came back empty handed. I prayed for strength to open up before you. Unfortunately I am leaving tomorrow  for Rio. I may not come back. I did not want to miss you this night.” Esha stopped as if to take a breather.

These words came so spontaneously yet   struck him like a thunder. He quailed. He felt the twinge in his chest. Paroxysm of fear gripped him. Nitish could not see beyond her face that was live, sentient. Her breaths were short. Her eyes were shut. He shuddered to think of the imminent separation from her. There was a soft knock on the door. Nitish rose from his sofa to respond to the call. As he opened the door he found an attendant waiting with two bottles on a tray in his hand.

“ complimentary.” The attendant nodded. “ do I switch on the lights?”

“ not needed.” Replied Nitish.

The attendant put the two bottles on the table silently.

“would you like to eat something?”

Esha nodded in negative. The attendant left quickly. Esha pulled him near.

“I will miss you. But I have no alternative.”

The wine bottles were left untouched. The evening rolled into night. Esha lay crumpled in his lap. He caressed her hair, touched her nose to sense her throbbing, touched her lips still shaking. She muttered something. He bent over her face. He heard.

“would you please wake me up in the early morning. I will leave for Pittsburg. You know gradually I am sinking into those evenings when we sat together on the bank of the lake. Everything in my life has changed. I will only carry the reminiscence.”

She was now locked in the arms of Nitish who was utterly confused over all these happenings. With a broken heart , with  tears in his eyes he pressed his lips against hers waiting for the dawn.

.