A Hot Summer Afternoon
It was hot sultry summer. There was not even a hint of clouds in the sky. The scotching sunrays fell on the parched grounds. It was month of May and the Sun was yet to begin its descent southwards. The leaves and flowers had drooped down and once green grass was now yellow, thirsty for water. The springs had dried and there was not even a single soul that didn’t want rains to arrive.
I had come to my village to get relief from the unwelcomed heat of the city but the condition in the village was no better. Being situated in the foothills of Himalayas didn’t prevent the Sun from venting its wrath by destroying the crops. The fields had developed cracks as if mother Earth had opened its mouth begging skies for water. It was on one of these afternoons that I saw her the first time.
I was on my way back to the village after visiting some relatives in a nearby village. She was sitting on a stone in a paddy field. She had folded her legs, with her arms around them. In that light blue skirt and a white top and a strand of loose hair falling on the left side of her face she looked like a fairy out of the tales that my mother used to tell in childhood. Even before I could think I was strolling towards her.
I was now close enough to see her face. She was staring in emptiness. Her stoic black eyes looked like they were waiting for someone. I don’t know why but I think there was something sad about them. No, there were no tears but one could see pain in them.
I was now close to her and I had started walking, my breathing still a bit heavy from the stroll. Reaching her I said,
“Hi!”
“Oh! Hi!” she seemed to have been disturbed in a dream.
“Sorry to disturb but I saw you sitting alone in middle of nowhere in this hot afternoon, so I thought that you have lost your way.”I had invented the latter part the very moment.
“No I like sitting here sometimes”, she replied.
“On hot summer afternoons?” I tried to hide my sarcasm by appearing curious.
“Oh! actually it’s not a hobby, but sometimes I like being alone. By the way I am Aakriti”, she replied blandly trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“Arun”, I said and then “Do you live here?”
“No not here; in a nearby village”, she replied.
I have no clue how this formal conversation went ahead. Perhaps it was her smile, her sweet amicable nature that got me talking. I seemed entranced by her smile, her voice and her tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear every time she talked. I was lost in world of smiles and pleasant beauties when she reminded me that night was falling and I needed to go home. She insisted on walking to her village alone and promised to meet the next day.
That night I did not sleep. I lay awake on the roof of my house staring at the stars, joining the dots trying to trace out various patterns. But I ended up tracing her face in every pattern. I tried to brush her thoughts away—I had just met her once. But every time I closed my eyes I saw her face. Finally I let memories of the day sweep me and once again I was lost in her thoughts.
I don’t know when I fell asleep but I woke up to the twittering of Ghugooti . The priests in the temple had commenced exordium to the Bhagvad Geeta. It was early morning and the valley was yet to see the first rays of the Sun, so the temperature was considerably low. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I started getting ready for my second meeting with the girl who had left me enchanted. I threw over a white t-shirt and blue basketball shorts and spent more time combing my hair than I ever had in my entire life.
When I reached the outskirts of the village, she was already waiting for me. She wore a white shalwar kmeez with embroidered borders. Her eyes looked more cheerful than yesterday anf with that smile playing on her lips she looked divine.
“You look beautiful”, I said as an understatement.
“Good morning!”, she said amused.
“Ah! err good morning”, I was till trying to get over her charms.
“So”.
“So?”
“So, let’s take a walk”, she said smiling again.
After walking for a mile down the stony path, we had reached a field. There was no sign of grass apart from small stubbles of grass that had sprouted out at some places giving it appearance of face of an old man weary with age. We sat on a small tussock of land.
She talked about various things—about life, about how the village was some time ago, about the river that had dried up, while I was lost in her hazel eyes, the animated gestures of her hand and that disarming smile that played on her lips when she realized that I was too lost to listen to her.
When I was with her, it was a different world altogether. The materialism of the world melted into something subtle, something more profound—maybe love?
“So what do you plan to be in life”. We were sitting under a banyan tree when she asked something that I didn’t have a clue about.
“Well, I haven’t thought about it”, I tried being honest. When you know the person you are talking to can read your thoughts better than you ever have, the best way is to be honest.
“You must have thought about something”, she coaxed and then added, “Ok then tell me what do you like the most”.
“You!”, now I was being insanely honest.
“Shut up! I mean like a hobby”.
“Ok! I like writing stories”, I conceded.
“So you can be a story writer”. The clouds had gathered in the sky planning the first rain of the year.
“Well that requires a lot of discipline and I am more of a lay back person besides I don’t have a clue what to write about.”
“That is easy”, she said snapping her fingers. “Close your eyes and write about the first thing you see”.
Now what she said was spontaneous but completely illogical, but I did what she said. She had that effect on me. With her I was ready to put logic aside and walk hand in hand into the world of unknown. So I closed my eyes and I knew what I was going to write about.
“Ok, tell me what did you see?” It had started to drizzle.
“I saw you” was what logical-me planned to say, but what I said changed my life forever.
“I love you”.
She started laughing and then our eyes met and everything fell silent. I don’t know how it happened but one moment I was enjoying the hiatus and the very next moment our lips met. It was then I realized that though I may travel across all the oceans of the world, I would never find a moment better than this. The rain had gathered force and we were lost in each others arms.
There was something about her, whenever I was very sad or very happy or indecisive, I remembered her. I didn’t make conscious efforts to do so but whenever eyes seemed to close I saw her standing at some distance her words, barely audible whisper, seemed to soothe by ears. There was something about her eyes that inspired poetry and though I am not very good at verses, I tended to pen some down. Seeing her in dream I realized that though this worldly desert stretched through miles but somewhere in this ocean of sand was oasis of her eyes through which I could drink joys of life.
I had rained a lot in past few days. Once cracked earth now smelled of fresh soil. The river was now full of water, bubbling with enthusiasm, enjoying the new life that heavens had breathed into it. The greenery of the valley seemed to caste spell on the lonely traveller strolling down its slope with stones following him at his heels like an infant following its father.
The rains had brought down the temperature of the city which meant that I had to leave. Aakriti didn’t seem to like the idea. But when I looked into her eyes, she knew that I would be back and then I had promised that I would be.
“I will be back soon. Why are you so worried?” We were meeting the day before I was supposed to leave. Aakriti had tears in her eyes.
“Because I love you and I have a feeling that I won’t be seeing you for a long time.”
I just laughed of her fears and well hugged each other and she said that she would come to see me off.
It rained all night and I lay on bed changing sides, thinking about the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me—love.
The next morning was stormy. I waited for Aakriti but she didn’t turn up. I missed my bus. I waited for the storm to settle but it did not. Angry winds uprooted the trees. Somehow nature had found a way to express the turmoil going on inside my head. Finally I decided to visit her village.
The storm growled threatening to knock me off the narrow path that I was walking on. The winds brought rains whipping across my face. But I didn’t give up; I couldn’t.
The night had stared to fall when I reached her village. I took shelter in verendah of a house. When the hostess brought the tea I enquired about Aakriti but she replied that she didn’t know anyone by that name. I remembered looking at her—confused and then I fell asleep.
The storm hadn’t stopped the next day. I continued the search, but with no result.
I searched for the next three days but there was not even a single trace of her. I these three days I looked in every corner of the three villages that inhabited the valley but there was still no sign of her. People told me anecdotes about the fairies that they had met on hot afternoons like the one when I saw Aakriti the first time and how fairies and humans can never live together. But these stories, hurled at me like battering shuttlecocks were heard and rubbished.
On the fourth day I came back home. The storm had rested and a peaceful pallor spread over the valley. I left the next day.
I am too naive to figure the riddles of reality and to explain others about her is the last thing on my mind. They may not believe in what I believe, but my belief doesn’t require them. For me she was real, perhaps as real as anything can ever be. Moreover love is not in getting whom you love, it is in cherishing the happy memories that would forever be part of your life.
Every summer I come to the village and wait till the monsoon is over, hoping that some afternoon I would see her again sitting on the stone staring in emptiness. And when on a cool monsoon morning a soft breeze whispers in my ears, I know she is with me.
---parishrut
