14 February 2015
The night with myriad stars was so alluring. I was excitably waiting for her on the terrace. The period of waiting came to an end when I eventually got a glimpse of her. To my surprise, she revealed herself in the same long skirt I gifted her days ago. She seemed the most beautiful girl. I don't know why but I felt like gazing a sun when it encounters a mixture of yellow and orange on the horizon. The fusion of black and blonde hair of hers was gleaming in the moonlight. Her deep dark eyes looked at me like they are forcing me to dive into them. Her deep red lips made me saccharine. I was completely lost in her and didn't even realize it has been a while since she is standing facing me. I came back to reality and firmly held her hand. Wow! Her hand was so soothed and cushioned. We sat on the plinth area of the terrace holding each other's hand intertwined fingers. She blushed and I gave her a swift peck on her cheek.
Then she showed me her mandala arts, I talked about my writing. She is a fan of my writing and this is somewhere the reason I got her. There were lots of talk about us meeting the first time, how awkwardly I proposed her. She too recalled the days when she used to peruse each and every work of mine and pretend to never do such. Soon the talk turned into claptrap but I was still enjoying because I couldn't get my eyes off her. The more I was looking at her, the more I was falling in love with her. I was involved in her so much so I didn't heed that my hand touched the mud lamp which was kept beside me. Ouch!! I made the sound when I felt the burning sensation. I mistakenly burnt my forefinger a little and dropped the oil in plinth area too. When she heard me screaming, she put my finger in her mouth in a trice. When her lips touched my finger, the burning tickle was completely gone.
Her lips seemed like a burn heal ointment or something. The happiest juncture. My phone rang promptly and it drove me back to my senses. When I looked at the screen, it read "Calling Papa." He doesn't know about my tie in with Pakhi. Oh! Now you know the name. I didn't want my father to know anything about this, I stepped aside and picked the call. He asked for my whereabouts and I replied back confidently that I am still in a class which has been extended a lit bit. My father loves whenever I have an extra class. I made him belief by changing voice and echoing about math sums from distance. As soon as he listened to this, he told me to hang up the phone by advising to focus on studies. I smiled cunningly and disconnected the call. As when I turned abruptly towards Pakhi, I was shattered.
The incident that happened in a fraction of second was more than enough to haunt me for life. Minutes before we were talking about our love jiffs and now I was standing alone with the fear. Before I could sense what exactly had happened, I heard din of people yelling for the ambulance and offering condolences. Despite my legs were fine, I could barely walk. I somehow managed to get down and there she was twined in blood, her cheeks were bruised, her lips were cracked. My beautiful, cheerful Pakhi looked devastated and my heart was crushed. I never expected this to happen never ever. She died on the spot. I wanted to cry out but even the tears were not dutiful to me. I somewhere still not believing what happened. Many things left unsaid. Many feelings left unfelt. All the memories, all those talks have become the souvenir in an instant.
14 February 2017
Life is so fickle when you think this is the best moment, it makes it the worst of yours. It has been two years now and there is not even a single moment elapsed when I haven’t had her in my mind. In these years, my mom had tried her all in to explain to me that the fault was not mine but how can I put into words that the oil from the mud lamp which fell accidentally made her slip and I being an idiot made her lost her life. The worst thing is that I have seen her falling from that plinth. The things would be different if dad would have not called on that day or if there were no lamp there.
I don't know whom to blame anymore but one thing I know is that I could have saved her. Fourteenth of every month I sit here holding Pakhi's paintings and reminisce about her, every beauty of hers. She is beautiful and will always be.
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