After the Rains

“Go! Go, get married! That’s all, nothing more.”

He said sharply, so sharp that it marked an abrupt end to her three hour long pleading, trying to convince him of the possibility of a marriage - her hopes and dreams of their life together.

They had been there at the beach, the deserted shore across the isle, as usual to spend a while together. They have been regularly doing that in the evenings for over five months, ever since he came back into her forlorn life.

They had read in the same university before…long before, almost nine years before. They belonged to a certain group, but never spoke much in those days.

He was an indifferent young man, taken to politics, poetry and cigarettes; she quivered without reason on seeing him pass by in the crowded campus grounds, in the lonely long corridors. But, she could sense a strange vibration in the air that incessantly resonated her being – mind, body and soul – as he passed by. She believed she was in love. Yet, she never spoke of it until time and tide split them apart to distant lands…

Life had begun to see such acquaintances as the mere play of destiny, and to her its amusement seemed just on.

And when he came years later, she had overcome her frailties. The gone by years had taken her through strange pathways; ways she could never ever reconcile with, pathways she never wished to memorise. But then traversing the risky terrains of youthful fancy, she had gained a resolve in all matters that affected her life as a woman. She only thought of the prospect of a marriage, as he sat reminiscing the old days, cuddling her fingers…

As with most young men in love, he spoke of the inevitability of marriage in the relationship, but ended suggesting an eventuality of the non-occurrence of it. Ever since, whenever they looked into the future scheme of things, the prospect of a marriage and a life together came in. But he would never let that take over, wiping the words off her lips with his steaming kisses…

It wasn’t the first time that he was suggesting the impossibility of a marriage. He gave no reason, but his face looked uncertain as he said, ‘Perhaps…er… perhaps we may have to decide otherwise.’ Before she could catch up, he would take her lips between his….

But this time, his hoarse voice had a harsh finality. A finality that needed no further reasoning…

He seemed so different all of a sudden – despite the finality in his harsh voice, he looked timid and uncertain. Was he the one he held so close to her heart? Were they ever in love? She couldn’t come to a conclusion now.

She recalled the moments of their togetherness -- her lips quivered as she reminisced the warmth of his kisses, the heat of his long drawn breath, the taut fingers that caressed her. ‘The sea rouses a passion,’ he had said in one of those days, as he brushed her cheeks with his raspy voice.

It all was coming to an end. In one of those days she knew it would end so some day, and she thought it was better for it to end soon. The road laid split in front. It was time to bid good bye.

She glanced sideways at him, and then the sky above him. Thick grey clouds swarmed across the hazy sky, past his head towards the west end.

It might rain tonight, she sighed. And walked off, as he stood looking nowhere into the blue roaring sea…

……..

After the rains that night, she searched for her journal. It had been over five months that she wrote her journal. She could never write her days, when they were too happy. She never felt the need to.

But, today words came flowing, as the rain drops kept dripping through the window panes….

God, be with me as I relieve myself
Of the love
That saw just the curves of the body
Not the recesses of the mind…

Of the love
That caresses the suppleness of flesh
But abandons the softness of soul

God, be with me as I cleanse myself
Of the love
That soiled my skin, the dark skin
That covered a deadened soul…

God be with me as I kindle
The wick of my deadened spirit
To spread the light of love

Of the Love
That seeks nothing
Nothing,
But the pure joy of loving…

A drop, a thick drop splashed on the words as she scored the last line – was it still raining?