If I fabricate things about her,
surely, it won't do justice, rather it alters the truth and very vision. Apart
from it so many emotions will intertwine in one place and struggle for their
supremacy over each other, and at end one who come victorious will swallow
everything. Rest consumed by swallower will privately grow, wrinkle, suffer and
eventually one fine day die, die with me. Not to regard, even then the world will
grow again, white snow will melt from the mountains, as always. Those many people
(adventurous) we generally read them insane will continue to flock, to
dis-value their precious life (opportunity given us to attain enlightenment),
lust green grass will grow upon meadows, and innovation will continue or
suddenly double. Only I, she and the truth will vanish, if I not reveal
her....... the truth, the true emotion.
“But to understand the true emotion,
you have to swallow many characters first”
Very long ago, NO, now suddenly
it'll not do, year matters, it has to be mentioned for proper record, say Feb
2008. Kalimpong was frozen to the core, after spell of sharp, dramatic, abnormal
rain. Morning and evening glove within it was hard to pass. Not to forget on
east Darjeeling witnessed a major snowfall, the entire town bathed in white
after years of waiting.
Back at
Kalimpong, we been back to hostel, I was crazy with the idea itself. Thinlay
Bhutia, a pure Oodlabarian unlike me half blooded. Saw me grow with his brown
eye. He was one who taught me the secret of Chel River, took me every other day to
dive into, ‘he think is divine path.
The people who knew him, never ever know how to describe him…He was sort
of guy, strong and weak, evil hearted carved out godly body, a perfect manifestation
of old Tibetan mythology that human were born out of a monkey gene (who was an
incarnation of
Avalokiteśvara), and female demon, who came to seduce
him.
I to be honest, I will never place him;
record him any side of a world made of bad and good. He is one, if not for
others, who could read me truly if he had certain telepathic power to do so.
When class began, we have a bunch
of newcomers. Thinlay, I and three other boys, I suppose were oldest inside
long large rectangular class. Our English Teacher keeping her natural Bengali accent,
open her mouth “large”, expose her mighty tongue just to sound Britain. She introduces
old to new, new to old. A week past without actually teaching, with it misery
befallen on hill ended. Kalimpong renewed
like newly born, the temperature pleasantly cool and the sky became clear. Our Economics
teacher Sir Uday Shanker, an angry south Indian hero has reputation, build up, he
can jump, box one back, kick ass at one time. The year before he even manages to pluck
portion of hair from a guy, he ever dislikes. It goes like this when he was
teaching other class, unpleasant noise fly over air from next class to that he
was teaching, when he rushes over there to stop noise, an ill-famed guy was
dancing on the song “Mein Hoon Don”. Seeing
him he got boiled, and further it goes from back, he held his hair, dragged him hard. On
process handful of hair come out from his scalp and Sir Uday without even brink of
compassion, not even fear what he did, he threw it on dustbin. Now years later
he already started action, even after FIR summon on his name on nearby police
station.
Beside all this, to my personal delight, after a few weeks we had
two more new students enrolled, a boy and a girl. The girl to whom I later would
fall, unusually. If to be true, I had never
spoken with her, my whole school days. I was brought under certain circumstance I never
claim my rights, how could I claim her.
Still, what it was? I have no idea courage or weakness, this was signed, I repeatedly stare at her, then immediately
look away when she looks at me, I come to act super weird, by which I mean I tried
to avoid her gaze entirely, walked away, or acted like she don't exist. It was
hard to conceal my emotion. One day when I woke up, I gather courage which was
new to me, I made my mind to tell her everything, I repeat everything… that she
is the girl I look upon “A
girl who had warm, soft and clear look on her face that I come to knew was
beauty, but with comfort and hope. Who is truly a masterpiece, exceptional in
every way, a girl rare to find whose beauty is unutterable.”
But there it was, before I even share to Thinlay,
what she recently meant to me, he said everything what I wanted to say. She being
Karan, and I Arjun, He jai and I Verru, I had to let her go, as in the movie I sacrificed
(Thing good human has to possesses ) my part of love, like my brother who has
so much sacrifice on his list, childhood, youth and so on… to build me into a
man. I brokenly wrote her a love letter on Thinlay’s behalf, which people
consider I am good at “writing”. I penned down my very own feelings instead of
his, he doesn’t need originality, ANYHOW, he can satisfy with a good piece.
She on her part never replied him back or to letter. When she doesn’t
reply. Today, I am full of guilt to say new hope born within me, I thought I should
try. But I am being good pretender, I continued the game, “Don'T DISAPPOINT
THINLAY”
Later part of year, it was difficult to live, as much as difficult to predict and
rely on Kalimpong's weather. Although I may see perfectly settled and
beautiful weather at one instance, soon I can see flakes of cloud gather in
the sky. As spring, best season to be at
Kalimpong ended, which is short lived anyhow from March to April, coincidentally same as my love or better if i say "crush". By early May the unbearable
summer visited, with its heat little by little snatched my heart-Ly play. Then by July as the Monsoon started, it fully unclear my sky like heart and to my sorrow it
last till August. When the winter at last came it frozen everything, everything.
This followed
by winter holiday, and event followed by "I never rerun back to school".
Now so many years later, I wrote small piece, above
all, actually on my behalf, ushering my own version of the story. Why? Why ? Can be questioned now, after all those years. I have a simple answer.
I saw her days ago in Kathmandu and same old felling rush inside my vein. This time
Thinlay is far away….. I hope…can hope... hope is a big thing as Barrack Obama popularly belief
or said.
