love story

Though she is dead, she is alive in my heart

Once upon a time there was a king…………!

Once upon a time there was a lion………….!

This is not the story of a king, not even the story of a lion. This is the story of a sad, compassionate, loving, and romantic man. And the story of his love.

Once upon a time there was me. Yes. This is my story, her story and our story. Her name was……..Oh! I forgot her name because she had told me to forget her and I had promised to do so. But how could I forget her. I couldn’t. The only thing I did forget was to forget her.

Some friendships turn into love and in some cases fallen love at first sight. But none of these are the case here. I saw her for the second time and I fell in love. She was in a café; white dress with blue margin and her face half hidden. I could see her busy eyes. Probably it was a romance fiction in her hand.

“Hi” This is how most of the conversation these days begins and this is not the exceptional one. “Hi”, I started the conversation. “Hello”, she forwarded it. “How are you?” “Fine and how are you?” “I was well, but I think now I am not.” I replied. “Why?” “It’s because of you.” I said. “What have I done?” “You did and you don’t know?” “You are mad”, she said. “And you are beautiful”, I spoke out. “I haven’t thought that we would meet again”, she diverged the topic. “Isn’t it a coincidence?” I asked.
Only three days before I had met her, we were having a same journey. I was visiting my friend and she was returning. She was a girl and no doubt, I had talked with her.
“You didn’t tell me.” She said. “What?” “Why you are not well?” she asked again. “Just.” “Just! Just what?” “Nothing,” I replied. “Then?” “Then what?” “Nothing,” she said and laughed a small laugh. She was talking with me but her eyes were somewhere else. “No.” I wanted to say but I didn’t. “Shall we meet again?” I asked. “Maybe” She replied. “But how?” “Maybe there is another coincidence.” “I pray for that.” I said. “Simron! You forget to tell me your name”, I said as she was leaving. She was baffled. “You forgot to take your purse and ID”, I added after sometime.

She left and I stayed still, seeing her leaving. I wanted to talk more. I wanted to stop her but I couldn’t. And there was no other option left with an exception to wait for another coincidence.

Was she beautiful??? That enchanting visage of hers attracted million. Those mesmerizing eyes of hers ensued for zero oblivion. Her lips, that was like the petals of rose. And her smile, that could simply metamorphose a gloomy aura into a blissful one. The fragrance strectching out of her body would just have anyone addicted to her. Her voice, the one I used to rejoice the most, sounded like the nightingale singing in the dawn.

If this criteria meet the definition of beauty, then YES she was beautiful!!!!!

“When I close my eyes, I hear her voice saying different each time and my heart pause to feel that voice. Then why shouldn’t I love her? Yes I do love her.” A voice was pulsating deep inside my heart. “I must do love her.”

Someone had narrated and I evoked those words. “When you want something then the whole universe conspires in helping you to achieve that.” There befell another coincidence. We met for the third time and then several times. I was her friend and she was my love.

Together, we wandered through the city. Together we walked down the roads, up the hills, and through the dark caves.

Sometimes we strolled through the bank of river. She was every time with me and in me; sometimes in my dream, most of the times in reality and every time in my memories. She was everything to me. I wanted to confess everything in front of her. But, I was afraid; less of rejection and more of losing her.

It was a cold winter morning. The scent of a recently departed fog hit my nostrils. I almost screamed when through my squinted eyes I checked my wrist watch! It showed nine! Sleep was a sweet thing I could feel. But, she was the sweetest.

The morning was cold and still. And I was waiting her. The painted sky, flying birds and the propelling boats on the silent lake were watching me. Through the lashes of eyes I saw her coming towards me. She was in the same dress; white with the blue margins. But she had no romance fiction on her hand. She was closer to me. It was all silence, the great piece of poetry I had ever gotten to hear. That was the spilt second to be poetic.

“I love you.” I told her the truth.

She became silent, as silent as the crystal of sponge. And the silent lake was learning from her.

“I really love you. I love to live this life with you……..With you, I love to breath and with you ready to die.”

After a minute of silence she spoke out: “Please! Don’t do so.” “Don’t you love me?” I dared to ask. “I don’t know.” “Is this the answer of my question?” “We never can be together.”

Those were the most atrocious words I had ever heard. I was being killed. I found it very hard to get myself to attention to what she was saying.

She was saying something like “I can’t be that girl for you whom you can live your life with…………please forgive me. I can’t be yours.”

But I had still some breath to ask her the justification. “But why?” “There’s no answer for every why?” she replied. “But there is a reason for every why. And this too have a reason.” “Yes, there is. But every reason is not the answer.” She said and left.

She even didn’t tell me to get up. I was still on my knee with a red rose in my hand. My knee was paining and the paining brought the longer pinning. Yes it was; but to lesser compared to my grief-stricken heart. The sky, flying birds, the boats and the silent lake were still watching me. But they were different that time; out of the ordinary. I didn’t ask them why they were looking unusual. I left them in their own fitness. It was probably my turn in a new turning of life. I couldn’t guess where the turning would take me. For two days, I didn’t meet her.

The sun had said bye, sparkling the moon and glittering the stars in the sky. All the God’s creatures were slumbered. And I was thinking of her. The nonstop clock had shown one and the fox had started to howl. It was the loveliest piece of moment when I was wasting my whole heart in her memories. And the ringing tone of my cell rang “the girl is mine”.

“Hello” I received the call. “Are you angry with me?” She asked me. “No, I am not.” I replied. “Then, why are you not meeting me these days?” “Just.” The simplest of all answers, I gave. “Meet me tomorrow at Lovers café at 5”, She said. I didn’t know what that was, an order or a request? But she wanted to meet me. And I couldn’t say “no”.

That tomorrow was not so far as it was already one when she phoned me. I was again waiting her in the Lovers café. It was the same café where I had met her second time and met for several times. She was late. She was late because I was early. Finally she came carrying the same beauty on her face and with the same smile. She didn’t say “hi” neither “hello”. Nor she said any other word. She came and sat opposite to me. She had that smile still on her face.

“So, why you wanted to tell me?” “Shall I need a reason to meet you?” she said. “No.” “Are you sad?” she asked me. “No” I said and managed a fake smile. She wanted to see me smiling and I pretended so. I had thought she would say something different that day. I was waiting to know that.

“Coffee?” she said. My guess was right. It was different. Always I used to offer coffee and she never. “Waiter”, she called. Did he have anything with the story? Es, he had, He was a part of that universe that made the third coincidence happen. But he was expensive. He brought the coffee for us and left us alone.

The moon and the stars were busy in their own job. And the wind was blowing. I was busy looking at her eyes. And she was looking at those stars and the moon.

“Do you love the moon?” I asked her. “Yes, I do. And you?” “No, I don’t.” “Why?” “Because it has black spots on its face” I replied. “Then you love the stars, don’t you?” “Yes, I do. And you?” “No, they are very far.” “And do you love the rain?” I asked her. “Yes” “And do you love the wind?” “Yes, I do.” She replied. “I have seen you using umbrella when it was raining and closing window when the wind was blowing. It proves that you love me, doesn’t it?” “No.” “Then you hate me?” “Yes.” How could she say that, she said, “No”. “You neither hate me nor love me. What is there between love and hate?” I asked her. She hid the truth saying the three words: “I don’t know.” It is really easy to say I don’t know. It was 8 and 5. But I didn’t watch the clock in between 5 and 8 neither did she. The wind was same, blowing. We started walking along the road talking about stars and moon below the black sky. Suddenly the rain started falling. And she started to catch them. She was playing a catch game; catching the rain which will fall again. And I was saving myself by an umbrella.

“Simron! You will fall sick. Come under the umbrella.” I said. “I love the rain.” She said loudly. “If I were the rain.” I said. “Then I would use umbrella.” She added in my words. She took the umbrella from my hand. But the hardly blowing wind blew that with it. And she started again with the wind. “I love the wind too.” She said even loudly. “If I were the wind.” I said. “I would stop loving it.” She added again. “You hate me that much?” She looked at my eyes and said, “No” “Then you love me?” “I don’t.” “You love me.” “No, I don’t.” “You love me.” “Yes, I do”, she cried. “But we never can be together.”

Then, that was my turn to be silent. “It really hurts when you say that you love me…” She said after a little pause.

She was crying. I gently touched her sensitive face. Her tearful eyes gave an intent look at me. I couldn’t think what to do. But I had only one option at that time. If I held her, I couldn’t kiss her. If I kissed her I couldn’t see her and if I saw her I couldn’t feel her. But she held me. It was the tightest hug that we ever did. I caught her on her arms and pushed her back. I looked at her eyes. She looked at mine. Our eyes met before our lips. Then she closed her eyes. Her long and hot breath was tangling the sensitive skin of my throat. Then I felt the soft, shivering, quivering touch of her scarlet lips. Then I unhurriedly felt the sharpness of her two teeth. It was the kiss that demanded no kiss back.

The next day, I phoned her to tell that I was leaving My friend. I said, “I am returning Home at 8. I will be waiting you at the station.

I was waiting her at the station. “The morning is still. The air is waiting and I am waiting her. But today only the sky watching me, not the silent lakes.” I said to myself. “I passed through the turning and that turning took me nowhere.” The wind blew because she was coming.

“Why are you going?” She said from the far but I could hear that. But I didn’t reply. “Why are you leaving?” She asked again. “There is no answer for every why.” I said to her. But there’s reason for every why.” “Yes, there is. You are the reason. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” I replied.

She looked at my eyes. And she hugged me. That hug was saying something; probably a VERY GOOD BYE. She had something in her hand. That was for me.

“What is this?” “The answer that you wanted” She replied. She gave me and said, “Promise that you will forget me.” Her eyes were crying. I could see the bead of moistures below her eyes. I didn’t say anything. I shook my head like an obedient child. “Why you always shake your head?” “Why you always cry and make me cry?”

No sooner I had told that she left me leaving memories in my heart and burdens of pain for the whole life. It was the last day that we met, talked, and embraced each other. And the very company was her last company before I was alone.

Whenever I close my eyes, I see her and I feel her. I dream her; her flower like face, dark brown hair, and virtuous eyes. Then she talks in my dream in a low melodious voice.

“Simron!” I call her name. “Yes.” “Are you dead?” “Yes, I am.” “Then you are a star now, aren’t you?” “No, I couldn’t be far from you.” “Are you the wind?” “No, I am not.” “What are you then?” “I am your heart.” And when I open my eyes I see the dark night not her lovely white face. I hear the buzzing sound of the night insects not her tuneful voice. And then I start to remember the verity that she is dead. That deadly disease departed her breath from her soul first and then took way the soul from her body…

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