HER ABSENCE

HER ABSENCE

Her personality complemented her sari. It symbolized maturity and adulthood, and yet freshness and innocence of childhood exuberated from her face. The contrast created by her kaajal made the wells of Arabia appear deeper than they actually were.

Her eyes never seemed to be in a dormant state. They ran across the sockets like racing-cars zooming along a racing-track. They made her face even more vivacious. They seemed to seek a logical meaning in everything Allah has given use. There was a potion being brewed in the depths, a deep mystery remained unsolved. The elixir of life full of mirth and happiness dripped from the contours of her face as she smiled.

There was a hint of a dark complexion in her face, but it served to provide a titillating background to the pantomime. I wanted to keep looking at her till eternity, and fortunately, there was nothing to stop me.

The eternity faded into gloom as she embraced the crowd. I could feel her presence even as her physical form dispersed in the motley crowd of students. Her presence made me feel as if I didn’t exist at all,  and now that she was no longer before me, I wanted to exist once again, if only to feel her absence.

Her absence was many times stronger than her presence. I could see her buxom figure even though she wasn’t before me. Her absence made me feel vaguely embarrassed; I began to wish for her presence if only to escape the embarrassment.

I could feel time slipping by even as her absence manifested itself in the form of a huge gap before me. I tried to fill the gap with the numerous encounters I had had in the past. I tried my best to replace her absence by unscrambling the scattered piece of the jigsaw puzzle of my life, but somehow her absence was stronger than the alleged presence of any of them.

I sometimes regret the displacement of these eloquent and vociferous cymbals of harmony with the dull sounds of everyday life, but I’m glad for being a part of the experience I went through.  The eyes shall always be a part of my conscious world reminding me of the absent form of the young lady for the rest of my life.