I had a strange dream last night. It was flooded. I was stranded on Linking Road. Waist high waters. There was no cab in sight. Or an auto even. I was crying. My kohl was smudged. There were no tears. The man I loved wasnt receiving my calls. His car having left a long time ago. Minutes after being pushed out. The malice in his eyes mocking me. I tried stopping him. But he never looked back. I fell on the ground. My arms bruised. My lips smarting from holding back my pain. You have a long way to go, here, take my hand, the stranger said. Pulling me up. The water having entered my blouse. I dont understand, I muttered. You wont...not now, he whispered, gently carrying me to his rick. I never asked him his name. Or number. Or even said thanks. Not even a polite goodbye. And then the years lapped. Carelessly. Taking away so much. Making me forget that afternoon in July. The stranger with the haziest grey eyes. The shape of his hands. The way he saved me. As if for something else...something bigger. Deeper. I wish I knew how to find him back. I told myself. Many times. The dream recurring. And then it struck me this morning as I packed for the Pune Launch of Sitas Curse: Language of Desire. As I sat staring at a phone teeming with messages. A FB wall full of kindness and warmth. And so much more that words can never really quite describe. That man who helped me on one of my saddest and darkest days. Seven years ago. He was Mumbai. Telling me to stand up. Stand tall. Telling me that this too shall pass. And that, there is such a gift such as time... After all...
Posted on: Wed, 11 Jun 2014 06:54:09 +0000
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