Love is a Nine days wonder

Soon: Going to be published my first book;;;

Cover of My first book

वीथिका में प्रकाशित लघुकथा- "परिवर्तन"

अजनबी वक़्त...

आज फिर, वक़्त खामोश सा लगता है,

अपने  में खोया परेशान सा लगता है,

मेरी तरफ  देखता है एक पल के लिए,

फिर नज़रे चुरा कर अजनबी सा बन जाता है।

 

जैसे की वो मुझे पहचानता ही नहीं,

मेरे बगल से ही गुज़र जाता है,

फिर घूमकर मेरे पास आता है, और- 

मुझसे मेरे ही घर का पता पूछता है?

 

में भी अनजान बन जाता हूँ, और-  

मुस्कराता हूँ; उसको कुछ नहीं बताता,

जब वो मुझसे अनजान बन सकता है,

तो अजनबी बन जाना खुद मेरा फ़र्ज़ बन जाता है।

 

हम दोनों को पता है की सालों से,

काफी वक़्त गुजारा है हमने एक साथ,

एक-दुसरे से वाकिफ है, हम अच्छी तरह, 

पर उन रिश्तों में अब कड़वाहट भर चुकी है।

 

इसलिए पिछली बातों को भूलकर,

हम बहुत आगे निकल आए है ,

एक नयी शुरुआत करने के लिए,

हम फिर अजनबी बन आए है।

जितेन्द्र गुप्ता 

"धूप की एक किरण" आज की वीथिका में...

धूप की एक किरण...

दीवार में लगे झरोखे से,

कमरे में धूप उतर आई.

चुपके से बिना कुछ कहे,

बिना मुझे कुछ बताये.

उस पीले रंग के धब्बे पर,

सहसा मेरी नज़र गयी.

मेरी आंखे रोशन कर के,

वो खुद भी चमकने लगी.

मैं उसको निहारता रहा,

परत दर परत.

आँखों में उसको भरता रहा,

काफी देर तलक.

कुछ देर पहले,

यह इस कोने में थी.

और अब चल कर 

उस कोने चली गयी.  

शाम होते-होते,

सूरज ढल जायेगा.

और कमरे में आई किरण का,

नामो-निशान भी मिट जायेगा.

और कमरा फिर से,

खाली हो जायेगा.

जैसे किरण कभी यहाँ-

आई ही नहीं थी.

क्या मैं किरण- 

की ही बात कर रहा हूँ?

या फिर ये मेरी जिंदगी है?

जिस पर पर मैं ये सवाल कर रहा हूँ?

जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता

एक शब्द: "प्यार"...

कुछ दिन के लिए बस,

मुझे प्यार हो गया था.

बातों-बातों में ही,

इकरार हो गया था.

पर यह इकतरफा प्यार,

ज्यादा दिन नहीं चला.

प्यार का भूत जब उतरा,

लगा मैं बीमार हो गया था.

शुरू में ही उसने मना किया था,

वो प्यार के अंजाम से डरती थी.

"इस प्यार का कुछ नहीं हो सकता!"

शायद वो बहुत सोचकर प्यार करती थी?

वो सही थी, पागल मैं ही था.

प्यार की हवाओं में बहता गया.

गर पहले सोच लेता तो मायूस न होता?

पर इतना सोच कर तो प्यार किया नहीं जाता?

 जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता

तन्हा ख़ुशी..

हर रोज़, शाम को, जब मैं काम करके लौटता हूँ,

दिन भर की थकान के साथ, कमरे में अकेला होता हूँ.

दिन ढल रहा होता है और खिड़की से सड़क के उस पार-

खड़ा दिख रहा,अशोक का पेड़ भी शोक मना रहा होता है.

मेज पर ढेर सारी किताबें, इधर-उधर पड़े हुए बेतरतीब कपड़े,

कुछ और जरुरत के सामान, कमरे का एक श्रोत प्रकाशमान.

बस मैं होता हूँ और मेरा कल्पना लोक होता है.

मन जो सृजित करता है, कोरे कागज़ पर साकार होता है.

मैं शब्दों से खेलता हूँ, ख़ामोशी से बाते करता हूँ,

सन्नाटे को सुनाता हुआ, कविता बनाता हूँ

नहीं! मैं कवि नहीं हूँ, मेरी कविता में कोई रस नहीं होता,

मैं लेखक भी नहीं हूँ, मेरे पास लिखने को कुछ नहीं होता.

मैं आजाद होता हूँ, अपने ख्यालों की दुनिया में,

अपने तनहा बंद कमरे में, मैं बहुत खुश होता हूँ.

जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता 

तेरी जुस्तजू ...

जिंदगी के कुछ पल, जाने कहाँ खो गए,

आँखे खुली हुयी थी, और हम सो गए.

हमको नहीं किसी से, कुछ भी गिला-शिकवा,

हम तो सदा ऐसे ही थे, ऐसे ही रह गए.

ना सोचा क्या है करना, क्या है बनना बड़े होकर,

अभी तो हम नादान थे, कब इंसान बन गए?

बिन मांगे ही मुझको, दे दिया यूँ प्यार इतना सारा,

ना पूछा की क्यों वो इतना, मेहरबान हो गए?

दस दिन की जिंदगी थी, दो दिन  यूँ  जी लिया,

की बाकी बचे हुए दिन, बेकार हो गए.

जो जीती हमने बाज़ी, तो प्यार था सनम,

जो हार गए तुझको, बदनाम हो गए.

वो वक़्त की थी बाज़ी, या प्यार का इक नगमा?

जिए, जिसको गाकर, हम आबाद हो गए.

"जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता"

कसक..

"कुछ कसक थी शायद,

मन में दबी हुयी,

सिसकियाँ तो आई,

पर किसी ने ना सुनी.

कुछ देर तलक शायद ,

मैं देखता रहा उसको,

फिर मैं भूल गया उसको,

वो भूल गयी मुझको."

"जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता "

आबो-हवा..

सुबह से ही बादल छाए है,

पर बारिश की एक बूंद भी नहीं गिरी.

हवा रात से ही बहुत तेज बह रही है,

पर यह आंधी और तूफान तो नहीं.

यह निश्चित नहीं की बारिश होगी ही,

प्यासी धरती प्यासी ही क्यों न रहे?

और इन हवाओं में भी शायद अब आंधी-

या तूफान बनाने की हिम्मत नहीं बची.

सब कुछ अनियमित सा हो गया है,

गर्मियां लम्बी खीचने लगी है.

सर्दियाँ, खुद ठण्ड से, सिकुड़ने लगी है.

और बारिश का तो कहना ही क्या?

क्या इन हवाओं में भी मिलावट हो गयी है?

या बरखा भी अब अशुद्ध हो गयी है?

सदियों से मानव की संगति में रहकर-

यह पृथ्वी भी जैसे भ्रष्ट हो गयी है.

"जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता "

एक ख्वाब..

कल रात अचानक नींद टूट गयी;

घडी देखा तो लगभग एक बज रहे थे;

कुछ देर तक लेटा रहा यूँ ही, सोचा-

नींद फिर से आयेगी, पर ऐसा नहीं हुआ.

अनंत आकाश मेरे सामने था;

और चाँद पूरे शबाब पर था.

थोड़े बहुत बादल भी छाए थे,

और ठंडी-ठंडी हवा बह रही थी.

मैंने अपना बिस्तर छोड़ दिया,

और चल कर बालकनी तक पहुंचा.

देखा- दिन में भीड़ से भरी रहने वाली;

घर के सामने की सड़क, रात में वीरान पड़ी थी,

सन्नाटा इस कदर घुल गया था जैसे,

इस दुनिया में अब कोई न बचा हो.

बस एक मैं था, मुझसे कोई न छिपा हो,

और मुझे अपने वजूद का एहसास हो रहा था.

मैं काफी देर वही पर खड़ा रहा,

सोये हुए सन्नाटे  में खोया  रहा.

नींद मुझसे कोसों दूर थी,

पर रात तो अभी शुरू ही हुयी थी.

अनमने-पन से मैं बिस्तर को लौटा,तो देखा-

तुम्हारी यादों की गठरी मेरे सिरहाने  पड़ी थी.

और कोई अनजानी सी चीज थी, 

जो टूटकर पूरे बिस्तर पर बिखर गयी थी.

'ख्वाब ही रहा होगा, शायद', मैंने सोचा,

अँधेरे में उसके कुछ टुकडे चमक रहे थे.

मैंने खुद को जगाया, और उन टुकड़ों को,

समेट कर दुबारा जोड़ने की कोशिश की.

जब ख्वाब के  कुछ टुकडे जुड़ गए आपस में,

और तस्वीर का एक पहलु कुछ साफ़ हुआ, 

तो देखा-एक तो "तुम" ही थे उस ख्वाब में मेरे,

पर मेरी ही उस चीज में 'मैं नहीं था'.

"जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता"

सच्चा हमसफ़र..

गर्मियों का सूरज, सिर पर चढ़ आता है,

वक़्त कटता नहीं, दिन चढ़ जाता है,

भीषड़ गर्मी और उमस झेली नहीं जाती,

दिन गुजरता है घर में, बाहर निकला नहीं जाता है.

पर वही सूरज शाम तक ढल जाता है,

लालिमा छोड़ क्षितिज पर, अस्त हो जाता है,  

सूरज के साथ ही शाम भी ढल जाती है,

और उजले आकाश का मुंह काला कर जाती है.

मुंह पर लगी कालिख को धोने की प्रत्याशा,

आकाश के चेहरे पर रात में छलक आती है,

रात में सूरज भले ही उसका साथ छोड़ दे,

पर बुरे वक़्त में चन्द्रमा की ही बारी आती है.

कितनी अजीब बात होती है कि चन्द्रमा,

जो खुद सूरज की ही रोशनी से चमकता है,

गर्मी उसकी सोख कर, हमें श्वेत शीतलता देता है,

स्याह अँधेरी रातों का सच्चा हमसफ़र बनता है.

"जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता "

तुम और मेरी कविता...

हाथ में कलम लेता हूँ,

और कोरा कागज-

सामने रख कर,

न जाने क्या सोचने लगता हूँ?

जब मैं लिखना चाहता हूँ-

तब भाव नहीं पनपते.

और जब भाव उमड़ते हैं,

तो वक़्त ही नहीं मिलता.

जब वक़्त मिलता है-

तब शब्द नहीं मिलते.

और जब सब-कुछ होता है,

तो कलम ही कही खो जाती है.

सोचता हूँ, कुछ तुम्हारे बारे में लिखूं,

उन हसीं लम्हों को फिर से जिन्दा करूँ.

जिनकी कब्र, मैं दिल के-

किसी कोने में बना आया हूँ.

पहले, जब तुम सामने होते थे,

मेरे होश गुम हो जाते थे.

कहीं उन लम्हों को फिर से जिन्दा करके,

मैं अपनी कविता के शब्दों को न खो दूँ?

या तो तुम्हे ही पा लूँ,

या कविता ही बना लूँ.

कुछ पाने के लिए कुछ खो दूँ?

या तुम्हारा नाम ही मैं कविता रख दूँ?

जीतेन्द्र गुप्ता 

वीथिका (१९ अगस्त 2012) में प्रकाशित मेरी रचना "ख़ामोशी"..

A Dream to be a Storyteller..

It is my dream to be a published author. I often dreamed that I am holding a novel written by me and the title of the novel is "Love is nine days wonder". Although I have written many short stories, but the short story which I have written on my real love, is really close to my heart. As I was an introvert in nature during my graduation college days, and I didn't like to share my feelings with my colleagues. I was having a habit to write my diary regularly in those days. The story is really based on my real love in my graduation days, and I have taken help from my diary as well.

The thing that inspires me to write my love story was the fact that I had promised my beloved that "One day I will be a writer." In addition to this, writing is my passion and when ever I am feeling free, I grab my diary, picked a pen and synthesize a number of words on the blank white pages. Although I have published a number of scientific research article, as I am a research scholar by my profession, but I would like to be called as a storyteller like Ruskin Bond.

The experience of this story, which I have written, was very much painful for me, because I have to recall all those incidences which was happened in those days and I longed to forget all those incidences long before, but this story is meant everything to me as well as to my life.    

Life in Jaunpur city

Riverside view from "Sadbhavna" bridge on Gomati river

"Royal" bridge view from Sadbhavana bridge

Balcony of my room

Horizon from the roof of my home

Cloudy Sky

The sky

River "Gomati"

"Sadbhavna" bridge and Mandir

Medieval Jaunpur

I was searching for the images of the ancient Jaunpur, and I have found some interesting images of the city. It is interesting to know that the city, I am living presently, was looked like that. These are very rare images, drawn in the time of British rule by some brilliant artist, Thomas and William Daniell. Just have a look at these images..

This image is the "Plate 9 from the third set of Thomas and William Daniell's 'Oriental Scenery.' by Daniell, Thomas (1749-1840). It is the picture of Jama Masjid, Jaunpur.

 Jama Masjid

This image is of "The Bridge At Juonpore, Bengal; by Thomas Daniell, 1804* (BL)" In this picture you can see the Shahi Bridge and Shahi Fort. Although I am a little bit confused by the term "Bengal". May be at that time, the city was under control of Bengal province.



The Bridge At Juonpore, Bengal



This is the "Akbar's bridge over the Gumti River at Jaunpur; a watercolor, c.1790-1800* (BL)". Today it is called Shahi Bridge. 

Akbar's bridge

This picture is showing the "View of the River Gomti near Jaunpur (U.P.). 1 December 1789, by Daniell, Thomas (1749-1840)"

 View of the River Gumti near Jaunpur

This is the "Scene in the town, Jaunpur (U.P.). 7 December 1789, by Daniell, Thomas (1749-1840), and Daniell, William (1769-1837)". I don't know, where this place is situated now in modern Jaunpur. But it is very interesting image of the city.

Scene in the town, Jaunpur (U.P.).

 Image Courtesy: The British Library

"An Incomplete Story"

Some of the moments of our lives are meant to touch us briefly and go their way.

I had tried many a times to relinquish her feelings of love which had been inculcated in my memories but failed each and every time. A long time has been passed since I had met her last time. And now when I tried to look back in to my past I found it full of folly.

Now 5-6 years have been passed since our college life have been over. I have become busy in doing my business and she had become hers. In the daily routine of our life I often thought of her and a question suddenly arises in my mind “whether she would be thinking of me also?” The last day of our college is alive in my mind even today as it is the matter of yesterday.

I remembered her tears which were flowing from her beautiful eyes at the very last day since we were departing. I was standing in front of the girl’s hostel beside her car on which she was going to her home for always. She just looked at me and I looked into her bewitching eyes. Suddenly the time had stopped at that place. I lost in the fair of our golden memories when we were together in the college. And now it was the last day I was seeing her.

Her name was Purnima and she was a young and beautiful girl. She was in her twenties when she had joined the college for doing graduation with us. It was not like that I have fallen in love with her when I saw her first time. Both of us were strangers for each other for the starting 3-4 months of our college.

She started to come closer to me only when our first semester has been over and the result of our first semester examinations was announced. She had passed the exam with good marks and was seemed satisfied rather than saying that she was expecting more marks as the other students were discussing in our class. I have secured the highest marks in that exam and my colleagues were congratulating me. Some were demanding the celebration party for the result. Formally I denied, but later I got my mind prepared and arranged a party in the college cafeteria. I had to invite each and every student in my class.

 The party was going on and I was busy with all my friends, when Purnima approached me and congratulated me for my success in the exam in front of all the other students. It was not only me but my colleagues also, who have witnessed that incident, had felt the intensity of her congratulation which was not merely the congratulation but contained something else also. Her voice was full of warmness of affection and she was seemed so much affectionate for me. As one can do anything but can not hide the love. She was also trying it but her eyes were saying boldly her feelings.

I don’t think that any Indian girl take the first step to propose any boy to whom she is having the feeling of affection. This is the God made character of all the women. So boys should take this responsibility as it is the God made character of all the men.

That evening when I reached at my room, all of my friends started to make fun of me and Purnima and all of them were eager to know more and more about her. When I had showed them my apathy about her they began to search the other ways for knowing the feelings of her about me. Some of them were having friendship with other girls in our class. So they contacted to them and told them to ask the Purnima for her feelings about me.   

I tried to show them that I did not have any feelings regarding her but instinctively I was flying on the seventh sky. The world seemed to me more full of joy than it was earlier and the nature seemed greener than it was earlier. I remembered that suddenly all the sad faces turns in to happier and mischievous ones. It was the effect of the feelings of first love. When you came to know that somebody likes you heartily and has been drowned in the sea of your love, the whole world turns in to more delighted and cheerful place. There is a fire which has lightened up in not only yours but your beloved’s heart also. Both of them always seek the chances of meeting with each other. And whenever they came face to face, they became lost in the eyes of each other. The same things were happening with me.

But till then I had not proposed her and it was the problem I have to sort out on my own. My colleagues have done their work of investigation and brought the news about the feelings of Purnima about me. They told me that she likes me and will accept my proposal if I dare to propose her. This news has done my work easy and I started to think of the ways of starting conversation to her. And suddenly an idea had struck to my mind.

It was middle of the April and the weather was a little bit cold in the night and hot in the daytime. Although the sunlight could not be bearable, anybody can stand in it for more than half an hour. I was pondering over my thoughts ‘if I have to propose her; I have to do it in private place’, because I felt shyness talking with girls in front of others. But I could not find the right place because the classes and cafeteria were full of students everywhere. Then I decided that I will do it in the lunch hour. At the lunch hour very few students were staying in the class and remaining other went to the cafeteria.

From morning to afternoon, my heart beat was running like horse. The teachers were coming, teaching and going but I did not care much about them. I was not interested what was thought by them in the class. In between these hours I tried to look her very often.

As it is known according to Newton’s law of motion “every action has a reaction”, whenever I saw to her, she also looked back to me by her slanting eyes. The only things I wanted at that time were to keep looking her and this act becomes sometimes funny. Some of my colleagues were teasing me in between these hours as they have started to make fun of me. As the time was passing away and lunch time was coming closer, I started to feel a little bit strange.

Time passes away at the speed of its own, and it was the lunch hour. Majority of the students went to cafeteria and only few students remained in the class.

Before approaching to Purnima, I went near the window of the class so that I became some optimist and collect my courage for this work. But intermittently, only one question was arising in my mind “what if she rejects my proposal”, I would become a stupid fellow. All the boys as well as girls would start to scoff about me. I was thinking ‘It was possible that my colleagues would have given me wrong information about her feelings about me’. But her eyes were not lying as it was become clear at the day of celebration party and in the class when she was looking at me often.

I controlled the cascade of negative thoughts and made up my mind to face the challenge. I thought “what will happen, will be tackle down afterwards.” I approached her. She was looking beautiful even in the college uniform. It was seemed as if she was waiting for me.

The sixth senses of girls are so much stronger than the total of all the senses of boys, and it has the power to destroy their all the five senses and they became nonsense. The same thing was happened with me. I had become nonsense and jumped in the sea of love.

“Hi” I said to her.

“Hi” she responded. She pretends to be surprised. Girls are like that.

“How are you?” I asked her.

“Fine” she replied with a little strange expression mixed with awe.

I was looking in her eyes while talking to her and have been lost to that much extent that I forgot, what I should ask her next. As I was, first time, talking to any girl and was so much confused what should be done and when? I forgot that I was in the classroom and the lunch hour was going to over. The students were started to gather around in the class. I was sitting just beside her and some of my colleagues were standing behind me on the other corner of the classroom.

“I want to share one of my feelings with you.”

“Feelings?” she asked back.

“Yes; feelings” I replied.

“I could not understand?” she asked.

“It is related to you and I found it impossible to live alone with the feelings buried alive in my heart.” I told her.

“Oh; what is that?” she questioned again.

Her eyes were full of mischief and I was on the verse of emotional stress. My heart beat which was earlier beating like running horse, had been beating at the speed of time machine now.

“I like you so much and would like to make you my unique friend.” I told her.

She remained silent for a moment as she was also thinking what was said and what should be said? Not only me, she was also seemed as not concerning of the crowd of students which were gathered around us. Both of us had lost in the eyes of each other. And I think that it happens to anybody as love is like that. Even the shyest person turned in to most deliberate one when he falls in love.

We had become late, already, for our practical classes and my colleagues were calling me for attending the laboratory with them. So I hurried and joined their group. I could not able to make eye contact with any of my friend as I was shying like the groom, who had just completed his first night after marriage. All of them had started making fun of me and I was the breaking news everywhere in the class as well as in the college.

I remembered that I had returned to my hostel that day by sitting beside her in the college bus. I can feel the warmness as well as the mildness of her beautiful body even today. She had given me her personal mobile number and told me to call her anytime. Oh my God; what a wonderful moment that was. What else I could do at that time. That joyful and pulsating moment has been passed soon and I, who was a reluctant lover earlier in the college, turned in to normal, bold and expert lover as usual with her gradually.

After this it had became my daily routine to talk with her in the night on mobile for a number of hours and throughout the day in the college. She had become my full time spouse gradually. If any day, for any reason she could not attend the college, I also bunk the college as I became feeling lonely and did not talk much to my colleagues. We were learning to tolerate each other for each and every reason.

I used to become much aggressive and bold while talking to her on the phone. I remembered to ask her for kissing me every time when I called her in evening and she demanded a return kiss after that. I was always on the roof of my room while talking to her and staring the sun which was setting down faraway at the point where sky and earth met with each other at the horizon. The flocks of birds used to fly back to their nests. They made very strange structures in the canvas of sky while its flight. I return in my room only when 2-3 hours had been passed away when darkness falls down. I used to watch the cluster of stars twinkling in the sky. The nature become calm and quite as it was supporting us.

Not only I was a bachelor, she was also a virgin. If I was the positive ion, she was also the negative ion, and the attraction was as usual according to law of attraction in science. So I attempted to become physical with her gradually but she always made some distance from me as she was, perhaps suffering from “touch me not” syndrome. This act of her discouraged me sometimes and I become angry with her and our conversation stopped for a few days. I resumed conversation with her only when she used to say sorry to me. But it was not only me who always became angry with her, majority of times she becomes angry with me as she was my girlfriend and it was her favorite sin. In addition to this we hardly get some time to go to the cinema or restaurant for amusement which is mandatory in modern day love.

In the meanwhile, I addicted to her as if she was any fascinating novel and I was on the verge of climax of the story. If she did not come to college any day, I inclined to become bored and could not concentrate on the class. As if her presence in the class was mandatory for my concentration on the ongoing topic. I used to think of her every moment irrelevant of the time and gradually I had intoxicated to her. She had taken to my heart.

Time was passing at its speed and our first two years of the graduation had passed as water is escaping from our palms. We were indulging in the displeasure and appeasement. Suddenly I came to know that I had lost our precious time and now without wasting any more time I should love her more and more as very little time was left. In between these days, a good as well as a bad news had come. Good for her and bad for me. Her engagement was fixed with a person who was the choice of her father. When this news was delivered to me I was completely taken aback. I could not understand whether I should dance in pleasure or become sorrowful. What should be done by a person whose girlfriend’s marriage had been fixed with any other person? It was the condition of dilemma as no guidelines have been given for this condition of love in any book.

To me she was a riddle which could not be solved by me throughout my life. Even today I could not conclude whether she was pleased with her marriage or not. Whenever I talked to her regarding our relationship, she told me that ‘she loves me’. But on the matter of marriage she blamed it to our destiny. She often said “it was written in our destiny.” However I never proposed her for marrying with me as I was too young to bear this responsibility. I inclined to have more time as I was crazy for her and did not want to loose her. But the time was not in favor of me. As it was predestined that I and she was not made for each other. I think I was rather ponderous over this matter. She married with that man and I remained looking at her face as I was good for nothing. I was having malice in my heart that I could not handle a girl.         

It is said that time heals all the wounds but mine was not healed. Rather I wanted to make it worse than it was earlier. Sometimes in love, people turns in to more vagrant and suicidal. So the condition was mine.

It was a humid day of summer. The sky was full of clouds and the sun was emerged from it. I was strolling on the roads and thinking for nothing. I came to know that she had planed her marriage as she had taken one month leave from the college. The college students were making mockery of me but I did not care of them. The only thing which was pierced in my heart was her behavior. She had not called me for a single time since she had gone to her home for her marriage. I was angry with myself and wanted to end all the mess which was however generated by me and destroying myself from inside. She had invited me for her marriage. But I deliberately refused to attend that one. I did not want to see the face of that person who had stolen my girl from me.   

When she returned, I remembered that day, all the girls of the class gathered around her as she might be any celebrity and their fans had stranded surrounding her for taking her autograph. But it is knack of the girls; they wanted to know more and more about the marriage of newly wed girl, about her husband; about her in-law house and about everything which is related to her marriage. That time, I felt I was a forgotten chapter. She was busy talking with her friends and I was standing some faraway from her but she could easily looked at me if only she wanted. I was staring her with reproaching eyes and knew she would surely look at me and then it happens. When she looked me staring at her, she stopped her conversation. I knew my work had over and went to cafeteria where after some time she came in the search of me.

She was standing in front of me and I was seeing her after the duration of one month. It seemed to me as I was any child and she had become matured in comparison of me. She had applied the red Sindoor in the parting line of her soft hair. In addition to this she also had a spangle (Bindi) put on her forehead, lipstick applied on her lips, ear-rings hanging from her ears, mehandi on her hands, bangles in her wrist and anklet in her ankle which was sounding like music when she moved swiftly here and there. These are all the common characteristics of the married woman in India. This separates the married woman from virgin girls.     

“Hi” she said with a little bit of smile on her face.

It breaks my investigation of her body and I stopped searching for the changes in her.

“You have become healthier than before; isn’t it?” I replied. Actually I wanted to complain her about her behavior but bewildered by the warmness in her behavior which she had shown to me. I think it happens in love, your anger diluted away when yours beloved comes in front of you.

“Yeah; I am eating too much now a days and afraid of being a glutton.” She said.

“So how was your marriage?” I asked.

“It was fantastic. Only you had not come. I was expecting your presence.” She said.

I was unanswerable on this question or rather I felt it was useless to argue on this matter. So I asked him, “How is your husband?”

“Oh; he is a good man and he cares of me much more than my expectations.” She replied.

“Oh; that’s nice.” I sighed.

“So, what are your future plans after graduation?” I asked her dithering over my thoughts. As I could not think what should be asked her next.

“I have not thought. Whatever he will tell me at that time I will do that.” She said.

That is the other characteristics of married Indian woman. I think. Whatever her husband tells her is OK. No argument-no discussion at all.

“Have you brought the photographs of your marriage?” I asked her bending the way of our conversation on another topic. Because I was getting bored talking to them on this topic.

“Yes; I have brought that. Would you like to see that?” she asked me.

She showed me all the photographs. I was going through that and seeing her smiling face in every photo, when a photo surprised me. It was her picture taken just before her marriage. In that, she was sitting in her home at a corner, wearing a simple Salwar-kamiz, looking towards the camera; and showing the expression of nothing mixed with sadness. It was clear from that photo that she had gone through the “Turmeric-ritual” just before the photograph was taken. I had taken that photo from her. She was protesting that she was looking very dirty and ugly in that photo. But I had chosen that because in that she was lonely and neither of her family members was present in that. The expression on her face in that photo was suiting me and I remembered that I had kept that photo with me for a long time.

When the photo session became over, I asked her to give a party for her marriage. Earlier she tried to put off my request but sometimes it became impossible to negotiate your good old friends. So my wish was going to accomplish and she was going to give a party in our favorite restaurant situated at the Chauk, the famous place of the city. It would be a private party, she assured me, only she and I would be there.  

When the college became over, we hailed an auto-rickshaw and started for the Chauk.

A new story was waited to be unfolded there, of which both of us were unknown. I was seeing her face in the vehicle, which was moving swiftly through the chaotic rush of traffic. Every vehicle on the road was trying to overtake its neighbor to become the first one, the blare of horns was irritating but we had conditioned to this noise and paying no attention to it. Rather we were lost completely in each other’s eyes. We forgot that she is now married. I was holding her hands in mine. O God; even today I can sensed the warmness of her hands which was soft and mild like the flowers of marigold. It was the intensity of our love that we forgot the presence of driver of auto-rickshaw.

“Do you still love me?” I asked her. I wanted to know her answer.

“I love you but you know that I am married now. So it will be better for you as well as for me to not to expect too much from me.” She replied.

I can conclude that her answer had solved my all doubts which were arising on the matter of our relationship.

It was the time of evening and the sun was setting down faraway at the sunset point leaving behind the reddish-blue sky. We were enjoining our last romantic moments as this day would never returned back in our life.

When we reached at our destination, we left the vehicle and entered the restaurant. I don’t know what she had ordered and how much time we had spent at that place. She was sitting just in front of me, and behind her there was an aquarium, filled with the water and different types of colorful fishes. I didn’t know that name of those fishes but their shapes had embossed in my heart because that time is still alive in my heart even today. I thought about those fishes which were enjoining its life in water but my condition was like a fish out of water. Even the fishes were in good condition than me, I thought.

I didn’t remember her words because it was of no use. I was completing the rituals of ending our relationship that day.

After spending some hours inside the restaurant, we came outside and again hailed an auto-rickshaw to return back to our hostel. The sun had gone down an hours before. It was the twilight, and the stars were twinkling in the sky. The air had contained some moisture and the rush on the roads was on its full swing.

We sat down inside the vehicle. Apart from the driver, only two creatures were their inside the vehicle that is she and I. The vehicle started for our final destination and was talking with the wind soon. It was the darkness inside the vehicle. There was a window made of transparent plastic material, just behind us. The golden yellow lights of the vehicles, chasing just behind us, were scattering on her face. She was looking very beautiful. I was seeing her first time with no air between us. Her face was shimmering with golden light. I realized first time that the faces changed when these are looked very closely. I kissed her and she also kissed me. I crushed her tender breasts, hugged her and remained in her arms for the whole time. Her beauty was disarming and I was lost in that. We were hearing the sound of silence which was coming from the roads on which other vehicles were racing against time and shouting at each other by giving horns.     

This was the last date I remembered, last rickshaw ride in my memory, last emotional moment I buried alive in my heart.  

Those days have now passed, and she was now standing in front of her car looking at me on the last day when we were going to depart. She came closed to me and said, “We will resume our friendship in the upcoming future. Don’t forget to call me every week; OK?”  

I responded nothing and tears rolled out from my eyes. I was neither weeping nor sobbing. I was collecting those moments in my heart. I wanted to tell her a lot of things, about our friendship, about our relationship but I could hardly say anything except “OK.”

She said her last word “Bye;”

Then she sat down in her car and started for her home. I remained looking at the car which was rushing with whirling dust and smoke in the air. It seemed to me as one of my worlds have been ended tragically like the world of amateur love or the world of first love in one’s life. I buried that world at the same place.

There was a garden just beside me where I was standing; a variety of flowers were there and butterflies in many colors were fluttering on the flowers. Suddenly a feeling of maturity has filled me in and I thought as I was like any butterfly and girls are like flowers for me.

And I began strolling back to my room leaving that place......        

(I am posting this story, which I have written some years ago. I am planning to translate this story in Hindi and to send it in "Punarnava" of Dainik Jagran. But I have a problem, I don't have the address of their office, so I could not understand, where to send my story. If you know, please send me the address in comment bar.)