Walking Through An Alley

Walking Through An Alley
I find myself searching for her everyday when I cross the alley. I know I won’t find her where she lived once upon a time, but there is a part of me that wants to see her sitting on the steps leading to the house she lived in. I don’t want to believe that she has left my neighbourhood although it has been almost an year since I last saw her. She left a deep mark on my heart exactly at the point where it can not be seen by a mere wayfarer, but someone looking deep into my heart is sure to find her sitting on the steps leading to one of the chambers of my heart. I don’t even know her name, I never bothered to talk to her, but I badly wish I had done something to instantiate a conversation.

Talking does bring hearts together. It opens up hearts and ultimately unfurls many secrets preserved in a heart. There is a deep wound in my heart that I don’t want anyone to peer into. Somehow, I know I won’t like it when the wound I have in my heart is prodded into. I don’t want to give access to anyone to inspect the wound, particularly to someone I don’t know. I did wonder if I should hand over the gauntlet to the young lady I saw every day. I don’t think a mere acquaintance is enough to give unfettered rights to anyone to explore into the chambers of my heart.

My heart contains some sinister and dark secrets I may not be able to share with anyone in my life. I don’t think the lady I often saw in the alley is worthy of being a tenant in my heart, however rich she may be. I can certainly afford to live without letting out my heart to anyone for a long time. She was quite good looking, and yet she didn’t display any signs of matrimony despite her age of maturity. I am a bit surprised at this, and I’m sure she left my neighbourhood to find a space in someone’s heart before fitting into his house.

The problem was  there had been a silence between us. Silence broadens the gulf between two people in a worse manner than distance does. Two people sitting next to each other but who maintain a silence are separated from each other by miles unless they let their tongues loose. The problem was we never got to talk to each other.

In a way,  I’m glad we never exchanged a word for she was sure to have uncovered the biggest flaw in me that is not visible to anyone looking at me the way she saw me. Till the time one is silent and quiet, no one can say anything about him or her, but the moment one lets out a few words out of one’s mouth, one’s entire background come to the fore. I may have discovered some secrets about her too had we ever exchanged even a few words, we never did it.

There  are a lot of fallacies inherent in me that are not visible at the surface, but they have created a huge dent in my existence. They have created a hot summer with loo and hot winds at a time when cool winds are supposed to blow.  I sometimes feel quite bad when I think of the way my fate has dealt with me. I feel my life would have been a lot different had I not had to be through a hot summer in my life. I badly wish there was a cool aura in my life as is the case in the normal course of events, but it has not been my purview to decide the nature of the atmosphere I shall walk through. It irks me when I think of the fact that it would have been an entirely different atmosphere had my life followed a normal course of events.

Nothing in my life has followed the normal course of events. My entire life seems to have followed a track trodden upon only by those who are doomed for a dead-end. The dead-end in my life is yet to come; it is going to be a long time before I meet it. There are several events and adventures to come my way before I encounter the proverbial dead-end. She is a part of the adventures I shall be before I encounter the dead-end, I know.

I really don’t know what it is I miss about her. She never gave me any attention except a cursory glance, and yet I miss her presence whenever I go through the alley. I have to go through the same way several times a day, I can’t help it. I thought of changing my route several times, but there is a typical joy in searching for her absent form on the steps leading to the house. I wish I could see her again. I shall certainly do something to imitate a conversation and exchange some details.

Well, she lives in my heart today, but not as my sweetheart. I can never give her the sobriquet of honour.  I still don’t know anything about her, not even her name. Today, she is a faint form in my mind sitting on the steps leading to the house I go by everyday. She will never be anything more than this and I don’t want her to be anything more than this. I shall have to cross the alley as long as I live, and her abstract form shall always return to haunt me as I go by.

I hope I do see her physical form one day as I walk through the alley.