by Sridhar Thiagarajan
[box]A man reflects over a beautiful relationship that he shares with a woman, as unassuming and simple as he is. She is not near him but her memories fill his moments as he sits in a restuarant. Sridhar Thiagarajan takes you through the tender moments of the relationship.[/box]It had been a long day. The time was around 7 pm and he was hungry, wanting to eat something but somehow not sure of what he wanted to eat. Finally he walked down to the wharf near the harbour, with the gentle evening breeze slowly setting in from the sea. As he walked along the wharf, he felt the number of people slowly increasing – couples, young and old, all appearing happy, either with themselves or kids, and laughing. He walked alone in their midst, taking all the moods in, absorbing all activities and the chillness of the evening breeze, instinctively entering an Italian restaurant. He was waiting to be seated, and finally settled down in the open balcony, overlooking the bay. He ordered his food and began looking at the evening sight at the Darling Harbour. He sat observing the reflection of the lights on water and the kids playing and frolicking all over the place. The sounds of their laughter and giggles wafted in the breeze, as he sat lost in the noise and the scenic beauty. Not reflecting on what he was seeing, he was for a moment part of it, and then suddenly it happened; he realized that in that sea of happiness around him, he didn’t feel that same happiness in him. As a gentle breeze created a ripple in the waters, disturbing the beautiful reflection of the lights from the buildings and the cruising boats, he felt the ripple inside him.
And then, thoughts of her came rushing. Memories of her and those cherished moments of togetherness. Here he was in Sydney, and his mind elsewhere. His thoughts went back to the time he had spent with her, in Mukkombu – that cute picnic spot near Trichy; The times when he had sat next to her, holding her tender hands, her head on his shoulder as they talked through silence. Then, that chilly morning, when they left the hotel to go to Mysore, on a rustic bus – rustic, yes, but it hardly had mattered. All that was of significance was that they went together, sitting next to each other, talking, enjoying the beauty of that morning, that chill breeze, as her hair fluttered across her face, the perfume of her Yardley powder – pretty expensive those days. That smell still lingered after so many years. And then, the walk in the Mysore Zoo, the Cornetto ice cream, the sudden, inexplicable sadness which swept over them that moment, the lunch in the restaurant, the walk in that idyllic park, the smoke which he had inhaled from his cigarette, as she grumbled about it. The evening drive back in the bus, tiring after a day of unbounded joy and happiness..
A shrill laugh jolted him back to reality. Startled though he was, a little smile still lingered on his lips. He looked down and the food that he had ordered was already on the table. The breeze continued to blow at is gentle best. He popped a piece of pizza into his mouth and it wasn’t long before he set off again, on his trip down the memory lane to the day when she had cooked for him, dressed in a traditional sari, the green one which he liked so much; so enthused she had been, thinking of his impending visit to her house. She had considered it an opportunity for them to lead a family life for a day. And so, she had cooked, they had both eaten together and after she had done the dishes, he had helped her with setting them on the shelves, squatting on the floor next to the kitchen table; they had sat, relaxing under the creaky fan that afternoon and late that evening he had left for the hotel.
He took a sip of water and stared at the bay. He felt empty. He thought of how all their moments of togetherness were filled with an inexplicable joy, not for any sacrosanct reason nor for anything carnal; it was a joy stemming from sheer union, purely unconditional. Even when he went abroad on his job, just the fact that he got an opportunity to visit India at the end of the year made him happy. He recalled that lousy bus journey that he once took from a part in Western India all the way to see her – he was so impatient with the delay of the bus and finally when they had met, their joy had known no bounds. It was as if the flood gates had opened, releasing the pent up water. Their eyes had swelled with tears. He felt the tears stinging his eyes. There was no greater joy than finding someone who, just like him, thought that it was such a wonderful feeling to live the present moment and enjoy it fully – a belief that kept both of them going. So much was the sense of oneness they shared, that they never realized they were two separate beings unless something forced it.
He did not feel like eating anymore. Recalling those little pleasures when he had been around with her seemed to more than satiate his hunger. There had been those moments when she would stand next to him watching him shave, her face taking all the distorted contours as his face, as he shaved. And then, when he would look at her, she would blush for it was only then that she would observe those distortions in her. Yet another time, during one of their first conversations on phone after she took up a job, at one particular instant as they spoke, he had asked her “Are you now curling your lip as you respond?” He smiled as he thought of her reply. “Hey, how did you know? I actually did that but realized only after you asked me!” He pushed the plate away from him. Wasn’t their relationship like the one between a plant and the river that nurtured it? A seed germinated alongside a river, growing into a healthy rich plant, flowering, and swaying in the breeze, enjoying all that the river gave. Then all of a sudden, the course of the river changed, moving away from the plant it had nurtured all along; the leaves of the plant, caressing the waters. It was a symbiotic relationship, which was abruptly disturbed; the plant was trying to reach out and so was the river – so close yet so far. But the plant was still healthy and bearing fruit while the river flowed by watching his friend, the plant, and missing it so deeply.
The yearnings, in him for her, to savour the moment with her that evening at the Darling Harbour, was what brought him out of the reverie, as he took a walk down the memory lane, to places with least sophistication, where they had enjoyed the richest of pleasures. He got up and walked back to the hotel hoping like he always did, that life would bring them together again, to savour some of those pleasures, once again. The simple man who traveled all over the world, still longed to relive those wonderful moments, with an equally simple and unassuming girl, whom he still loved deeply – . his goddess down memory lane.
Pics : Dr Geist – http://www.flickr.com/photos/drgeist/
davosmith – http://www.flickr.com/photos/davosmith/
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