I loved her once, but that doesn't mean a lot anymore. She was a part of my life, yes, but it was so long ago I do not even clearly recall what it was like having her around, or what she was like herself. Yet when I saw her today in the shopping mall, 200 feets and 12 years disappeared in a second. My eyes fogged up with the haze of bits and pieces of memory. I didn't even realize when I lost her in the crowd of the mall. Just like the way, I guess, I lost her 12 years ago in the crowd of life.
Memory is a crazy thing. Most of the times, we choose to remember truth just the way we want it. In the remembering, we tell our mind a story that it records; in the telling of the truth lies the tale selectively entrenched in our brain we call the truth and thereafter. Even more incredible than how some parts are conveniently and completely erased, or never recorded, in the memory, is how some things, some tiny bits from here or there, are just impossible to forget and associate themselves permanently with our idea of ourselves.
I never understood what went wrong with my marriage with Riya. We were so deeply in love, so happy with each other, we couldn't wait to get married. But only a year or so later, an unbreachable silence started living in our house. I can't even remember how it started, but I distinctly remember how I despised having to talk to her, having to touch her. And when she asked for a divorce, I felt relieved. I knew she had said it in a fit of rage and frustration, but I was keen not to allow her to take her words back. My guilt did not allow me to say anything, my greed did not allow me to get away with her words. But most of all it was my love for her that made me so desperate to set her free. Hurt, but free.
That's my story. I know it's not all true, it's not even complete, but I made peace with it all these years. But today, that one smiling look on her face as she bought soft toys for the little girl in pink holding her hand makes me doubt my belief in my truth.
It's so long ago I don't think I can remember the whats whys and whens of all the things that happened back then, but for the first time in twelve years, I'm suddenly haunted by a question that I have a sneaking suspiscion was hidden under the covers all this time. Why did I not take her in my arms and forgive her?
Maybe this interlude of a dozen years would have been different, happier. Or maybe not.
Memory is a crazy thing. Most of the times, we choose to remember truth just the way we want it. In the remembering, we tell our mind a story that it records; in the telling of the truth lies the tale selectively entrenched in our brain we call the truth and thereafter. Even more incredible than how some parts are conveniently and completely erased, or never recorded, in the memory, is how some things, some tiny bits from here or there, are just impossible to forget and associate themselves permanently with our idea of ourselves.
I never understood what went wrong with my marriage with Riya. We were so deeply in love, so happy with each other, we couldn't wait to get married. But only a year or so later, an unbreachable silence started living in our house. I can't even remember how it started, but I distinctly remember how I despised having to talk to her, having to touch her. And when she asked for a divorce, I felt relieved. I knew she had said it in a fit of rage and frustration, but I was keen not to allow her to take her words back. My guilt did not allow me to say anything, my greed did not allow me to get away with her words. But most of all it was my love for her that made me so desperate to set her free. Hurt, but free.
That's my story. I know it's not all true, it's not even complete, but I made peace with it all these years. But today, that one smiling look on her face as she bought soft toys for the little girl in pink holding her hand makes me doubt my belief in my truth.
It's so long ago I don't think I can remember the whats whys and whens of all the things that happened back then, but for the first time in twelve years, I'm suddenly haunted by a question that I have a sneaking suspiscion was hidden under the covers all this time. Why did I not take her in my arms and forgive her?
Maybe this interlude of a dozen years would have been different, happier. Or maybe not.
15 comments:
dats touching for sure...woven beautifully with carefully chosen words..
but is it the end?
Forgive her? But what wrong she did?
i believe love is sometimes strange.
sometimes even if u think its gone ,
it remains like a ungerminated seed from the parent plant.
sigh!! but he should go find her back. dont end the story...
200 feets and 12 years disappeared in a second
Awesome Story and so well written...isn't it so true that sometimes we are not aware as to why we are doing certain things, there is a force guiding/ pushing us....scary...
Why people find it too difficult to forgive their loved ones!
I think u shd surely write a book. It will be a bestseller for sure :)
Mark my words!
True Love I guess is not something which can be lost or can be created, it just exists and grows. And there are no restrictions like living together, it just makes you evolve with time, you re-live your life and this time more beautifully...if it is true love. All other kind of loves end up in one or other kindaa story to tell !!
'What if' is such an intriguing thing. But I guess that's life - the Choices we make :)
I love !!
Very beautiful...yet still so many questions unanswered......u certainly know how to keep readers interest!...now i wich there could be further addition to it...
"Memory is a crazy thing. Most of the times, we choose to remember truth just the way we want it."
Very true.. :)
we want more !
[kunnu]
no it isn't, not by far!
[voice]
Wait and watch :D :D :D Waise mujhe bhi sab kuch nahi pata...bahut confused story hai
[free bird]
Love is always strange...the story, like life, shall continue
[smita]
The force is just a name we give to things, esp our own actions that we cant immediately understand or rationalise. Alas, the NEED to rationalise!!
Hindsigght is good though
[geetika]
Achha, will you read it :D
waise why do people find it so difficult to forgive themselves
[a learner]
I guess. True love...sigh....who has a notion about what it is!
[rakesh]
Much more painful than intriguing. But yeah, life is just a series of choices. Thanks for reading.
[pooja]
:)
[aditi]
:) More n more n more, good or bad, cant say
[azeem]
absolutely.
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