MAGIC

Magic was the only word that could express the time Pratik and his Beloved spent together. Magic, for no other word could describe it to its purest sense the feeling that the moment bestowed upon Pratik and his Beloved. The only thing Pratik could do was watch his Beloved speak. As Beloved spoke her heart out, her eyes glistened and moistened with joy. Her eyes, Pratik saw, radiated that vitality and youthfulness which Pratik had long missed. With every words she spoke, her eyes danced in delight. She was an angel of delight. How he wished time would stop, but the more he thought of, the quicker it went. Pratik was drawing himself into quick sand. Yet, he wanted to hold on to it. Beloved spoke with utter innocence, and how gladly Pratik cherished. No words or no emotions could ever explain the intensity of his joy, of him being a silent listener and Beloved, an endless talker.

They say, time eventually passes by, but with the passing, we always have something to cherish. While moments pass, just like the way it came, memories last…linger on in the hearts of those dear to each other. These memories add to eternal and profound love of promises of never leaving one another; no matter what circumstances be. These are memories, besieged by unspoken words that always stand tall and say, in silence, “We have made this far, and now, we will go together, forever.”  

As he saw himself on those dancing eyes of his Beloved, Pratik queried about what Love and Peace meant. He questioned himself of what happiness meant to him. Was Love just an emotion, or was Love his Beloved? Was Peace something unreachable or something unattainable? And when would one find peace? Would a gentle touch of a lover pacify and give solace to all the troubling times one faces? Pratik certainly felt so.

“What are you thinking?” Beloved’s question brought back Pratik from his oblivion.

“Nothing Beloved,” Pratik replied and without asking anymore Beloved went on…her eyes shone and her voice cooed in lyrical tides. With the lyrical tides, Pratik once again drifted back to his oblivion…

“Your love is your Beloved,” Pratik’s inner voice spoke. “You cannot treasure or know what love is until you treasure your Beloved. She is your heart and soul. She is always eternal.” Those words pushed him back to reality—a merry reality where Beloved spoke endlessly while her eyes danced and her hands moved in harmony with her words. Everything Pratik saw today was pure magic, a perfection that no words, to no extent, could ever explain.

Yes, Beloved was, is and would always be his Love. Peace was when Pratik was with her; safe in the sanctity of a blissful heaven that he never longed to be forged out of. Peace was when Beloved touched his hands and blessed his soul, rushed his adrenaline and made his heart beat to unfathomable beats of…

Happiness was the time when Pratik saw his Beloved’s eye sparkle with joy…it was when her eyes moistened as she spoke…happiness was when Pratik was with her. Happiness was when Pratik loved his Beloved. Happiness was when Beloved’s hands touched his and sanctified his soul. Happiness was love. Love was his Beloved, and happiness was his Beloved.

With the mind’s tempest pacified, Pratik slowly started to hear his Beloved’s voice clearer…he smiled at the thought…smiled for himself…smiled for her…and smiled just because he wanted to smile. Seeing the unexpected smile, Beloved asked, “Why are you smiling?” Pratik was just as unexpected to the question as Beloved was to his smile. But still he smiled replied, “Nothing”.

Deep down his heart thumped…his senses reached in perfect happiness…from the depth of his heart and soul; a voice spoke, 

“Oh Beloved, I love you so.”

TURNING BACK TIME; AS TIME TURNS THE TIDE

The essence of life is memories. These are memories that we hold on to, no matter what. These are recollections that has helped us to be who we are from who we were, or who we used to be. These are recollections of fragmented memoirs that continually haunt us as it continually defines and redefines our lives.

It is in these memories that humans immerse themselves and introspect their lives in awe, bewilderment, guilt, happiness and other countless emotions. Memories were, are and will always be with us. Each recollection takes us to a distinct and detached past—detached from its causes and effects.  If the incidents are joyous, people wish to hold them only longer. Yet, when memories turn bitter, tears roll down our eyes.

Today, Pratik was lost in these very memories. Memories of himself and his Beloved—a flashback of how time ceased to tickle when they were together; flashback of how Pratik, now, upon recollections, wished the time to cease forever—back to the eternal, blissful past.

Beloved’s voice then spoke from within, “But what if memories were hurtful Pratik? What if events were not the way they are now?” Pratik’s eyes widened, softened and moistened while it stayed firm on its decision. Pratik could never digest such words from his Beloved. She had always been his inspiration, and when his inspiration seemed to dessert hope, he was destitute. Pratik had dedicated everything he had achieved so far to his Beloved. Had it not been for her, he knew that he would never be where he now was. She had seen him rise and fall. She had seen him run barefooted to catch the sun. She had pushed him to follow his heart, watched his back and held him when he stumbled. She had loved him, in joy and in anger—equally, and more—every day. “Tell me Pratik, what would you do if memories were hurtful Pratik?” Beloved’s voice spoke from within.

Immediately Pratik regretted his wild imaginations and tried to flush them out of his mind but it stayed; waiting and longing for an answer. “Beloved, no memories ever hurt me because you have been always there. There are no single memories where I have been alone. You have always been my savior and my inspiration.”

“Beloved, if I could turn back time, I would always turn it around and make you mine. I always will” Pratik said to himself. Then a voice echoed, “But she is still yours, isn’t she?” Pratik replied, “She always is”. Then, Beloved’s voice, that mixed with a small banter and a soul soothing smile that moistened her eyes in delight spoke, “So there is no need to turn back time”. Pratik smiled, stared into those eyes of his Beloved that danced on his eyes and whispered, “You always were there, you always are, and you will always be Beloved. But would it hurt to turn back the past and relieve the moments that we cherished so much?” Pratik’s voice replied. “You’re memories would never hurt me Pratik, and I could endlessly live on those memories,” Pratik imagined his Beloved speaking as her eyes moistened with the joyous recollection of togetherness, which she was re-living on Pratik’s eyes, with him.

FIGHTING MEMORIES

Dear Pratik

The nights are ruthless when I fight every day with memories where we were together. Every night, I battle with tears, ask them not to roll down my cheeks. Every night, I continue to fight a losing battle. I console my restless heart of the day when we will meet. Yet, my heart is frail when it comes to you. My yearning heart endlessly longs to cover a distance that we both know can never travel until time comes.

As I console my weeping heart, I am losing the strength that I had collected to cope with your departure when you departed. Both my heart and mind knows that you are gone for good; gone for the eternal togetherness which we will share when you arrive—the day that I endlessly wait! The thought of our conjugal togetherness delights me and withholds tears from falling for a while. Yet, then again, I remember the distance—the aching distance until we meet and tears roll down without my reckoning.

I count days Pratik. Each passing day brings you closer to me. Each night tells me that such nights will always pass, and pass quickly. Yet, I have been a fool to think that nights and days pass quickly because it never does. The twenty four hour is too long a time for a day to pass by.

Can we not decrease time Pratik? Can we not decrease time in hours or minutes or even seconds so that we can be together soon? I sincerely wish we could.

But, time is strange. It never passes, and the more I think of it, the more lonelier I become. On my journey, I miss your touch. I miss when we held our hands and walked distances. I miss moments where you would endlessly talk. I miss the kisses. I miss your embrace. I miss you Pratik.

Each day, I miss you more. The more I miss you, the more I love you. This is what distance has taught me in your absence. I meet my friends and stay with my family as long as I can to divert my heart and mind from you, but, I endlessly fail. Love never seemed to be so strong an emotion we departed.

I still remember the last time when we departed. I knew you would go. Yet, when you held me in my embrace, I wished the time would freeze. I wished that you’d never go. I wished we would stay the way we are forever. Together. Never away. Yet, you left. I never looked back because I knew what I was leaving behind. I was leaving behind you. I was leaving behind my heart. I was leaving behind my life and joy and going ahead—with a heavy heart. I was leaving you until we would meet again.

AGAIN…WHEN? How frail is this heart? Tears, stop to roll down for no reasons. I cannot console you anymore. I am losing all of my strengths that I had gathered to hold back the aching pain of departure. Tears, stop the cries….

Love you forever and more,

See you soon Pratik.

Yours,

Beloved