I saw him once again. I had promised myself it wouldn’t
happen, but time has a way of making us forget our promises, among other
things. We learn to live with the pain. Memories on the other hand have a way
of bringing back everything in a flood, the good and the bad.
I had moved on. It had been over a decade since I last met
Kishore. Our time together had been brief but unforgettable.The few weeks spent with him was another time, another life.
We had dreamed, hoped, laughed . We had lived.
It had stopped when dad found out about us. I belonged to
the upper class. We had our standards and Kishore who was a lowly worker for my
father could never give me the kind of life I deserved. Or so I was told. I was
sent away to my uncle’s house at Yelahanga where I met Ajay as per my parents’
wishes.
He was nice and cordial. We had a good time together. We
were soon married. His work took him places and in the last ten years, I have
had a lot of reasons to rejoice. More Stamps on my passports to exotic places than I could
remember, two beautiful kids, my daughter Aradhana and son Ajankya, posh life
in a great locality amidst the bustling city of Bangalore, a carrier and a
loving husband. Kishore was just a memory, from a time past.
Today I was back home after a very long time. Appa had
passed on and the last rights were to be performed. My sister and I had both
arrived with our families just as half the village, Appa was the head sarpanch
and a well-known person among the people.
Kishore had come too. He stood in one corner, alone, never
speaking to anyone. From the bits of gossip, I learnt that he had left the
village soon after me.Once, he had been handsome, but now had the look of a man
dejected with his life. He had no living relatives, no family and had never
married. Our eyes met and I sensed it. After so many years, he still felt it.
He had waited.
That day, if he had called out to me, I still am uncertain
what I would have done. He never did. He looked at me. Just the way he did all
those years ago. But there was more this time. There was pain as well. It was
to be the final good bye. Kishore walked out of the house then and I lost sight
of him in the crowd.
I have never seen or heard of him again. I sometimes wonder
where would be, hope that he has now moved on as well. The most I wonder though, is of the life that would have
been, had I been with him.
