Recalling Memories…a narrative part of A Letter to My Beloved

The cool breeze gently caressed her tender skin. The beauty of her deep mystic eyes seemed to express her words of love that she knew was only for him. She had spent endless times being stubborn and reluctant to accept his love. She knew her reasons for doing so. She feared. And fear was the only reason of her rejection!
She knew how much she loved him…how she longed his way and letters…how much she missed his presence…she had seen him emerge…different from the others because she was with him since his childhood…those days when he, in his trousers ran barefoot to catch the sun just for her…when he knew, the closer he reached, the further, the sun went, he would turn behind, pant, and smile giving an expression, “well, I tried…I ran quick…the only problem was that the sun ran quicker…”, and she’d smile…
He’d however, repeat the act everyday and would tirelessly run to catch the sun just for her, and he’d, as always fail to.
“You can’t catch it!” she had once explained, and he had said, “I will, someday…she can’t be far from my reach forever…and even if she does, I’ll thrive to eternity to reach her!”

With time, they slowly grew, leaving the majestic days of childhood in their memories. She remembered him very well; that silent boy whose eyes penetrated when he talked with others, while with her, it always wandered nervously from left to right…up to down…
She had never felt those penetrating eyes. To her, he was a shy, quiet boy who knew nothing to talk about…she was the one who talked, while he would patiently, and intently listen to her. He’d notice her gestures, her sparkling eyes and expressions. Time and often would he pull his tongue out and tease her, to which she’d respond ferociously with a humorous baton, and he’d again listen quietly.
Since his childhood, he never talked too much. He always was that patient listener who would listen without sign of boredom! How much he understood, no one knew, but when there was a question he had to answer, he most certainly would. He’d explain things in an etiquette manner which everyone praised about…

For his talking, which actually was answering a question, she’d praise, explaining every expression he did…how others were intently listening to what he had to say…and once again, he’d be that patient listener while she, an endless talker!
She carefully remembers that this has still been the case with him…the silent listener, a good answerer who expressed what he felt…what he knew…

Lost in those memories of the gone days, she failed to know that the cool breeze was replaced by the dusk…the stars were starting to reign the dark sky…the gentle air grew softer, and almost seemed to stop…her eyes, in her memories were wet, and she, yet failed to reckon it!

The only thing she knew and wanted to express today was her love, the love she had stored only for him…

Maybe, after all, its better late than never…this is what she wanted to believe now…she was joyous and all she wished to do was scream out loud and profess her love to him…scream out loud with outburst of joy saying the words she wanted the world to hear…she wanted to hold him tight…cry…smile…weep…hold his hands and never let him go…The air she breath tonight, she never wished to exhale. Tonight, it carried a mystical aroma…the sweet fragrance she had never felt before…

She awoke from her memories…how long she had wondered about him, she failed to know. She was joyous…
To him, she meant everything, and she knew it. She no longer could subdue the feeling of love that ceaselessly made merry sounds…she wanted to give him all her love, her care, her support and joy.

She soon pulled out a pen and paper and started to write…

“Dea…” and stopped. She knew, the letter would bring him joy like it brought to her, but she also knew, his joy would cross the limits if only she’d refrain the act of writing to the day she’s been waiting for…the day of his birthday…

She smiled the way she had never smiled before and whispered, “I love you too,” and gently surrendered to the hovering night…
*****

MILES AWAY, HE FELT A JOYOUS SOUND THAT WHISPERED LOVE WITH AN ETERNAL FRAGRANCE OF JOY. HE GENTLY SMILED…AFTER ALL, HE HAD CAUGHT THE SUN!

An Attempt to Answer

Dear Beloved,

The freedom of right, I believe should never be sought. It should be obtained. Furthermore, fear should never curtail this window to knowledge. Many people fear to ask, and I request and pray this shall not be the case with you…

My Love, the questions you asked are grave issues. Since time immemorial, great people who are termed philosophers have tried to quench the thirst of human existence by interpreting life, its essence, illusions, dreams and so forth, and I wonder if I can answer your queries. However, I will speak my heart…share with you what I feel about these issues…

A line from one of the philosophers I read occurs to me. He had said something life; how can you prove your existence…what if a fly, millions of years ago was dreaming of your existence? The statement undoubtedly talks about an unacceptable possibility my Love. I believe that were this to be the case, nothing would be certain. I do not know if life is a dream or not Dear. However, I stick to the latter. Humans have excelled the filed of knowledge and evolution. The first step of earlier man has been imprinted on the humid soils of the endless earth! Lives of great people are meticulously recorded in the books of history. I further believe that a fly, as mentioned by the aforesaid philosopher is unlikely to dream a human’s existence for the fact that the ability to grasp things depends upon one’s level of understanding and interpretation. Moreover, I believe that a fly is unlikely to possess the aforesaid ability. I consequently believe that life is, after all, not a dream.

Beloved, I once again fail to know if happiness is an illusion. But, with my perspective of life being real, I believe, happiness to is not an illusion. My Love, many a times, the most cherished moments of life are those of joys. If we view happiness as an illusion, life would be grey and melancholic!
Once again, I believe that happiness is far away from illusion.

Dear Beloved, I am fumbling to write further. My knowledge debars actual answer. What I’m writing to you is solely of what I believe, feel and are my reflections. Once again, the query of patience being a plotted pretence is beyond my knowledge. I deem that patience is a virtue; a pretended patience; a vice. I doubt if virtues are vices…for me, my Love, patience is not a plotted pretence. It rather is a wait that in itself is instilled with honesty and longing of something. Beloved, I do not know of patience being a pretence. I further fail to produce an example. The only example I have with me is my wait for you…my sincere wait that longs your way…your arrival…your hopeful presence in the ensuing days…months…years and eternity!

Dear, they say, time fades memories. Accordingly, it does rust patience. However, if patience is respected, acknowledged and served with honesty, I believe, patience will not rust with time. However, with time, if we start to contemplate patience and consider it futile, it surely must rust for without hope and essence, the most valuable things turn invaluable!
My Love, wishes excluding extravagance indeed are fulfilled. However, with eyes that wonders on far-fetched possessions, wishes that are fulfilled are hardly recognized. We consequently express that wishes never are fulfilled! Furthermore, fulfilling a wish depends on what you wish for my Dear.

Indeed Beloved, stars do fall. This I can say with you by my side! Stars fall down and will fall down; not just for me, but for every human being that span across this living planet!
Dear, I cannot further write because its been a long letter! Boredom excels interest at times! My Love, I’ve shared what I know, feel and think.

Never fear to ask what you wish to ask my Love for one has so much to learn…so much to share…their experiences, their views…and so forth for life, after all, and consequently is a learning process till the end.

Looking forward for your next letter.

Love you forever and more,

Yours and only yours,

Pratik