I Let Her Go

I Let Her Go
She looked at me from behind the curtains. There were some heavy and thick curtains in the room I was in, and I didn’t have an idea of the peek-a-boo game she was at. She wasn’t supposed to be doing it. Apparently, her curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn’t resist getting an idea of me before I got a chance to grab  a look at her. It hardly mattered given the context and setting under which we were being introduced.

There was a formal introduction to be conducted in a while, but she stole a couple of furtive glances at the future that was in store for her. It was quite like sitting on the seat next to the driver in a bus and getting an idea of the road the wheels were to go over in a while. She was not in a position to do anything concrete to help herself out if the bus was going to roll into a pit the next moment, but a prior knowledge of her future was to lend some amount of satisfaction to her.

She had a vague idea of me as someone who was in her house with the purpose of conducting a formal inspection. I felt a bit odd and strange; it was like offering namaaz after the appointed time for it was past. My offerings are not going to be accepted in the form of the valid offerings, but I didn’t have an option. I had gone past the point where I would have had a lot of options before me.

She did get a comprehensive idea of the picture before her before she stepped out from behind the curtain and illuminated the room like a beam of light makes  a dark and solemn room pregnant with expectations. I was dumb-struck when I saw her walking into the room. There wasn’t anything special about her appearance, but this was what made her strikingly different and beautiful. There was an absence of superfluous ostentations on her external self, and I discovered a terrific affinity with her when I realised her inclination for simplicity reflected in her attire.

I have often wondered what pleasure women find in applying tons of beauty products that have all the potential to damage the skin as much as to make it all the more beautiful. This is a trait ingrained in their genes, something beyond my understanding. I’m glad she didn’t have the tons in the vanity case in her mind.

I wanted to convey my appreciation for her taste at the hour, but the presence of so many people around us made it impossible for me to initiate a conversation. There was a wild babble of tongues in the room, but it was her presence in the room that made it all the more vibrant with fervor  and energy. Her presence was enough to cut through the dominant conversation in the room between everyone else; it shouted her point in concise and precise terms in a medley of sounds and voices: simplicity is better than anything else in the world.

Her eyes held a deep secret she wanted to reveal to me, but I was not in a position to understand anything significant in the absence of   a formal interpreter. I made all efforts to grasp the significance of her expressions, but feminine expectations remain a mystery I yet have to crack. I shall have to be adept at solving the mystery quite soon if I want be happy, but at that moment, they were a mystery.

There was a lot to be shared at that point of time between the two of us, but I consider it to be good that we merely exchanged a few smiles during the hour we spent in each other’s company. The meeting was a formal one, but I’m grateful we met. She gave me an idea of the depth of secrets buried in her eyes as well as her heart in a few days when we met again, but without the presence of so many relatives.

She wanted to tell me about her intimacy with someone else. She didn’t want to continue any form of relationship with me, and because she was not in a position to convey all this to her parents herself, she wanted me to reject her on some grounds. I found myself in a typical situation where I wanted to move on, but the road I had to walk on refused to lead to a dead-end. I’m sure a continuance of the alliance was to have resulted in misery and unhappiness for both of us. she was not going to find an iota of happiness in my company.

Her confession put me in an odd situation where I had to conjure up a reason for denial. There apparently was no reason; there never could be one, she was the ideal lady for me, but I had to think of a valid reason to deny a continuance of the alliance. This was going to go a long way to make sure we were happy. None of us were to be happy if we chose to continue with the proposed alliance, I know.

It has been quite some time since all this happened with me, but today, I’m grateful I cannot be held responsible for breaking anyone’s heart. I am glad I thought of an excuse for not marrying her. I’m not sure if her love-story had a happy ending, or even if it was true or not, or if it crashed down  to the ground like so many other love-stories. I’ll never know.

I hope she lives happily ever after.