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Read books online » Fiction » Verbose Grief by Ittefaaz Begum (reading in the dark .TXT) 📖

Book online «Verbose Grief by Ittefaaz Begum (reading in the dark .TXT) 📖». Author Ittefaaz Begum



20180617

 

I guess you could say that my day started with passing out. Well, if you consider early hours in the morning a day then yes, that’s how it started. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary except for the blooming hope of seeing her in less than 26 hours. I’m a man of few words, so this narration is going to be small. Why write at all you say? Because she loves writing. She wanted to write this story too. Since, that isn’t an option anymore, unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me.

Maybe, I want to write, pen it down, so that I don’t forget. Her words, ‘remember me’ still haunt me. Even after one year, I hear her whispering this as again just like the day she first told me those words .I wonder if I’ll ever stop remembering her, and if I do then would that mean I failed her? It’s a conundrum that I haven’t figured out.

This short itty bitty story is going to be in ‘observer’ mode. Story of a girl whom I loved. How far do I need to go back in time for you to understand the circumstances that led to this particular event? I can’t go too far. No matter how much I wish I could, so I’m going to stick with just the last few days.

This girl whose story I’m going to unfold, ‘Pichi Pilla’ as I loved to call her was crazy. She was quirky, She was mine. However short that lasted, she made me happy.

Even before I knew her, truly, at least some parts, she had decided to pursue higher education in US. That put a big fat deadline in her mind when it came to us. Even though the deadline was lifted indefinitely, the days that followed after the change were short. Too short for my liking. Am I boring you already? Sorry, I am doing my best though.

Anyway, the day she left India was hell. For her, me, family and friends. After dropping her off, I came back to my familiar room and felt alien. She stepped into an alien land and.. what did you feel Pichi Pilla? Were you scared? Nervous? Excited? Sad? Out of the multitude of emotions, which one was the most significant? Wish I had known. You told me that you rushed from the airport to the apartment complex that you were going to stay to your college to remove registration holds. I remember the numerous things she handled and tasks she accomplished but not one thing about how she felt.

Day 1 of hers in that far away land was swept away with errands. She told me that the river crossing with a nice view was cold despite wearing a sweater. Was the cold only physical or was it what you felt inside, Pichi Pilla?

I judged her to be hopeful whenever we talked. At that time, I surmised she was hoping to adapt to the new world she stepped into. She seemed more focused on what all was left to do and how she’d do it. You were as far away from being okay mentally as you were physically from India, weren’t you love?

I guess I was one of the people that she called and stayed in touch with for the entirety of her stay. I heard relief on Day 2, when she mentioned that two of her batchmates were going to accompany her to Walmart and Best Buy. Why was relief a part of your emotional forte? I guessed the idea of buying laptop brought some solace.

I won’t go in a chronological order anymore. The next few days are all a mix to me.

When she cried on the phone, it broke my heart to be so far away from her, to not have her in my arms. She told me that the only thing she liked was the toilet paper. You’re crazy, my love. I tried to be available, to be connected to her. To not be forgetful of my phone. The one time I wasn’t, I am grateful that she tried to get in touch with me.

I had multiple calls, texts and video calls with her. It wasn’t at a fixed time. We didn’t have a schedule. Whenever she wanted, we talked with each other. Thank you for telling me that you’re going to be need and demanding for attention. All of us, friends and family tried to be there for her. I hoped it would enough. I hoped it would suffice her. Every time she called after class she seemed okay. As days or should I say hours passed, the frequency increased. Whenever she had free time she was trying to be in touch with me or someone else. I didn’t know this at that time, but later when we sat together, we realized it. Were you looking for a connection or holding onto some familiarity?

I was asleep that day, with my phone in silent mode. She could only make WhatsApp call as she did not have any minutes left. From what happened, I wanted to write out here how she got in touch with me in the middle of the night. She called for five minutes, when she couldn’t get in touch with me, she asked two people that she trusted to come over to my place and wake me up. That first call with her friend calmed her down, with the assurance that she could come back. The second person however, made her question your decision, provide reasons, make a list. Gave her a logical backing to her emotional one.

Everyone that you spoke to that day tried to talk you out of it and you convinced everyone. You didn’t have to convince me love, I’d support you, always. Just like I did that day.

The first hint of smile surfaced on her face when she decided to come back. I missed your smile then, I miss it now.

I don’t know exactly how she organized everything, made sure that she tied up all loose ends with just a day in hand.  Heck, she even roamed around the city and had fun.

So many events, instances led to the moment of her boarding that plane at that seat. YoSheu couldn’t even choose her seat, she made someone else do it as she was too busy.

I’m glad that she had a long call with her family. When I curse myself for being unable to stay in touch that day, the thought that she was talking to her family soothes me.

Why did you break my doors, barge in and fill my life with love? Why did you go away from me? And why, Oh God, why did you on the pretense of coming back leave me? Forever?

I guess I can’t blame her much but it helps to put the blame on someone than to think of it as an accident. My beautiful world, my love, you died that day, the day that started as an ordinary one with me passing out.

To the readers, my Pichi Pilla died that day, on her way back home. On her way back to me. It hurts to say that, but it was an accident with 80% mortality. No one to blame, no one to focus the grief on. The world moved on. It continued its pitiful existence as before. It shattered for everyone that she was close to. My love had just begun her life with me and it ended just as abruptly as it started. That’s the way of things I guess.

In our lives, we take so many decisions. So many choices, options to choose from. Each one leading to the other inevitably towards death.  She was impulsive, my Pichi Pilla, but not as impulsive as everyone assumed. I’ve seen her sit and ponder over things. I’ve sat through her explanations, her thought process. Her brain just works faster. You’re still impulsive though.

All the decisions that you took, do you regret any of them? If you could, would you stop yourself from boarding that plane? Or would still decide to go ahead and leave it up to chance? Would you choose your own end? You told me that you’d suffocate if you stayed there. Would you choose a slow death hoping to beat whatever’s killing you there or a quick one? Would the risk of leaving it up to chance, be worth it to you?

From what she’d told me, I guess the world would experience my written words not hers no matter the decision.

I miss you love, so much. I hoped writing a part of it our story would help me. Writing was her forte, not mine. I wish that she were here, in my arms, snoring her pretty ass off. The past year hasn’t been easy. I thought that my decision to move from Bangalore would make the situation bearable but it doesn’t. At least it hasn’t yet.

All the discussions we had, the pros and cons that we discussed of her staying there, I wish there was one thing different. One thing that led to life. Not death.

Decisions, choices that we make. Opportunities, options that we get. It all boils down to these four. So simple to say or write but the workings - way more complicated than what you or I could comprehend then. I wish we were having this discussion together. Not me writing it down, alone.

I’m going to end my ramblings with something that she wrote on a sticky note, with a kiss emoji, an eternity ago –  “I’m yours, simplest fact”

Imprint

Publication Date: 06-28-2018

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my first love, my mother.

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