A Ship Is To Fish Me Out One Day

A Ship Is To Fish Me Out One Day

My hand crept over her hand. She smiled in a typical manner, and withdrew her hand leaving me abashed. I wanted to hold her hand and hold it quite tightly like a sinking man clings to a straw for survival, but apparently, she didn’t want to let me hold on. For me, she was like the ship men in a lifeboat fleeing from a sinking ship see in the ocean. I thought she was going to extend her hand and pull me on deck, but she was aware of the consequences of accepting my gesture with a smile on her lips different from the one she let me witness at that time.

A slight variation of the curves of her lips at that time would have meant she harboured similar thoughts in her mind with respect to the relationship that existed only in my mind till that moment. An acknowledgement of my act was sure to have propelled within me a typical wish to behold a favourable end of the story initiated by me in a typical manner. She was aware of it not being feasible, although she too wanted it to end to it in a similar manner as soon as possible.

She was propelled by similar desires and wishes as within me when she let me sit by her side for a long time. After all, she was human too. They were some of the most beautiful moments of the day when I sat by her side and we shared a few thoughts. Somehow, I know similar thoughts ran through her mind every time we were together. All said and done, she was wiser than me because she knew the society wasn’t going to accept our relationship very easily, and she was not in a position to contest the values of the society. She was older than me in years, but I couldn’t acknowledge her wisdom in not reciprocating my gesture. I thought love transcends all barriers of age, but I was wrong.

Though there have been several instances where the woman is older than the man, yet the norm accepted in the society is the opposite. Signs of aging appear on women’s faces earlier than when they make their presence felt on men. I do wonder who made the rule that one of the partners should be younger, and I do wonder why almost all of us tend to follow this rule. I wish I could break the rigid traditions of the society we live in, and move on into a world where there are no rules, traditions or even laws.

I couldn’t help wondering at the myriad thoughts travelling at the speed of light through her mind at that moment that made her think of terminating an affinity between us before it developed. She knew I loved her, she knew I wanted to make her happy, and she too wanted to be happy the way I tried to make her happy. She knew there was a special bond between the two of us, and she didn’t want to let it break into pieces. And yet, we were standing at the point where a caesarean section was what was required.

She rose to leave, and I felt bad because I knew we were never to meet in a similar situation ever again. For a while, I felt bad about the way I had expressed my feelings for her. This was what had prompted her to leave me earlier than other days that day. I wanted to hold her hand forever and a day, but she had pulled it out of my reach probably because I had touched it.

It would have been a different story had I not attempted to make a display of my feelings for her by trying to hold her hand that day. She may have remained on her seat beside me for a long time that day, and she may even have been sitting by me today.

I lost the pleasure of her company that day by making an innocent gesture expressing my feelings. I wonder if there was something wrong with the way I articulated my feelings for her. There didn’t seem to be any other way of expression befitting the feelings I had for her and the moment of company.

The significance of her reaction had been digested by me a long time before it was actually served before me in the form it was; I too was aware of the discrepancy in our ages, and I too knew it was better not to expect a Utopian end to it.

There were to be several more moments of companionship in the park, but she chose to draw a line that day. Apparently, she knew a bit more of the way the world went around its axis than what I knew of the movement of the planets.

She was a keen star-gazer who had seen the disastrous consequences of our relationship in a crystal ball before me. The bone of contention was the difference in our ages, she knew. No amount of spells were going to bring back her youth or conversely, there was no way she could level the differences in our ages.

I wonder what future would have been scripted had the story seen a favourable end to our story. I shall be a witness to many more stories, but all of them shall push me further down the abyss of failure. There are many ships out at sea; one of them is going to fish me out soon.