Neither
I nor could she sleep all night. As if it was destined to be our night; a dark
night that we would be sharing together. Her loud cries are still over my ears
and mind, but not as a haunting memory but as the one to be savoured with a
smile. How can I forget those hours when her smile was filling life in every
moment. And, eventually I am ashamed of even thinking that she may get down as
soon as possible because of her unbearable loud cries. Does the emotions change
from day to night, I thought, as I had once heard that the monsters come to
life in night. Were they talking about
the monster within us?
Her
fairest soft skin, her sharp nose and small ears behind her curly black hairs, her
pure pink lips and poised brown eyes; how well the Lord had played with His own
creativity. I knew the next morning our paths would be different, our
destinations would be different, but it was my soul's pleasant desire that I
couldn't take my eyes off her all day long. But, as the sun went down and later
when the lights were switched off things were different. She was restless, and too aggressive that I
was afraid that the people around, irritated by her cries, might utter unpleasant comments.
The
motional dark night of no emotional content was too long because of her, but
again too short once she was serene in her dreams. I guess she really had a
beautiful dream that night, and I can only guess it as I didn't even get an
opportunity to ask her about it next morning. She wasn't in front of my eyes.
Her cold crumbled white bed sheet was telling she had gone. And, Even if I had
asked, I know she wouldn't have answered. Not because she knew that I too was
irritated by her cries, but because I knew an one year old child can't
articulate her words. She can smile, cry or just say "Mama" or
"mum", but nothing else. Her thoughts were gradually replaced by
other ones as I heard the announcement that our train was entering the Hazrat
Nizzamuddin station, within a feeling that " I won't be seeing her again
in life."
