A Dawn Called Zeenat

A Dawn Called Zeenat
I bent down to give an ear to all sounds reverberating through the floor of my room.  Several footsteps were heard resonating through the house. There were echoes of footsteps of all those who had been  of some importance to me at a remote time in my history, of all those who are of importance to me right now, and there were echoes of footsteps of all those who are to be of a lot of importance in my future. Many of these footsteps shall echo a loud sound in me for a long time. Although they can never sound louder than the echoes of yore, I feel they are to have a stronger tone. All of them added to the symphony I heard while I bent low.



 The most distinct and clear are the patter of some tiny feet in my room. I know Zeenat is making her presence felt in my world in her own way; she is running around looking for her own space in my world. I wish I could snuggle her into my arms after she has discovered all the love I have for her in my heart. I want to cuddle her and hug her before she runs away to another world.



Echoes of her tiny feet shall vibrate through my heart forever and a day. They threaten to get louder and louder everyday. There are times when I want to apologise before the tiny fairy for confining her to mere echoes for a long time. They should have been translated into real and louder decibels a long time back, but for reasons beyond my control, they had to remain in this form.  I wish there was a way to tell her how bad I myself feel for the delay; it hasn’t been in my powers, I wish I could tell her.



I was pushed against a wall every time she wanted to pronounce her presence in my world. I haven’t been able to bring her down on earth from her perch in my imagination because several exigencies of my life have always pushed her back into realms of fiction. This is when I have realised that fiction can often be stronger than reality and truth. Zeenat's absence has been instrumental in deciphering several codes and secrets of life that may not have honed into me had she been present in a concrete form.



I shall certainly behold her concrete form in a couple of years, I know, but a sense of insufficiency owing to her absence has been lingering within me for a long time. I feel incomplete without Zeenat. I wonder how much longer it will prevail within me. The real form of Zeenat cannot be very far off from where I stand. There are times when I can even see her in a concrete form before me: the void created by her absence seems to be filled. I see her as the infant I want to see, I see her tiny hands and feet in a pristine form. I wish I could kiss her tiny hands and feet a million times even before I begin counting.



I often feel I only have to take a bend in the road I have been walking on and I shall surely see her standing before me like a robust mountain. She is a mountain full of adventures I am climbing. For a while, I look down from my high perch and everything else at the bottom appears irrelevant. This is exactly what I wanted from life.