My Dua For Her

 My Dua For Her

She was a dream I saw a long time back; time passed, the world changed, and I let her go; I opened my eyes, and I now realise that I had stopped dreaming a long time back. I grew up and I grew out of my infatuation. It is a long time.

 

For her, it isn’t a dream she is going to forget in a hurry. I do feel honoured when I realise she hasn’t forgotten me even after all these years. She didn’t stop dreaming, never.

 

For her, it was a never-ending marathon which she is still running with me. There is no end to the marathon for her, although I got to my end a long time back.

 

She paused for a while to consider the track before her: many dreams we had seen together were still fresh before her eyes. We didn’t need to close our eyes to see them; they flickered before us as we walked along holding each other’s hands.

 

They gave us wings to fly over large tracts of unnavigable land and water. We flew in the skies over swamps and oceans for quite a while. It was the best time of my life, but I descended to the ground a long time back; she insisted on being airborne for a longer time, probably forever. She kept clinging to an ecstasy she felt to be eternal.

 

After  so many years and despite my refusal, she still clings on to several events in our past that I now look upon like the events that had happened in my childhood. Like several other events and dreams that couldn’t come true, these have also been relegated to the back of my mind. They were now like the toys I played with in my infancy and childhood. A typical dissonance rears itself up within me even when I think of them.

 

She is of a different mentality. She gives a lot of importance to some hazy and yet prominent visions of her future that once appeared before her eyes quite frequently. They repeated themselves so many time that they assumed a shape of reality for her.

 

She probably still saw many of the plays enacted before her on the ground even as she flew over them. I wish I could pull her down to the ground.

 

The parks we used to meet in had lost their attraction for me. To me, they appear as puny and insignificant remnants of my youthful adventures.

 

I find myself laughing when I think of the time we spent on park-benches holding hands. I’m sure the park-benches miss us as much as I miss them.

 

I often find myself smiling when I think of these days when we used to be on park-benches holding hands like  we held the map to Eldorado in our hands.  I have moved on from that stage, but she hasn’t.

 

I sometimes do pause to wonder what would have happened had we walked to the gates of Eldorado and even entered it. We would have been in a completely different world from the one I am to find myself in in a few days.

 

Eldorado would have been beautiful, I’m sure, but its beauty would have lasted only for a short while. I feel confident she would have got over her infatuation in a few years.

 

The truth that there is nothing in common between us would have come before her in a few years.

 

There were several tunes we used to hum together. Although these tunes do strike a typical chord in my heart when I hear them being played, they appear as burnt-out and obsolete as nursery-rhymes meant for babies.

 

They lost their charm and novelty a long time back. She still attaches a lot of relevance and importance to them. I wonder why.

 

I feel she doesn’t interact with many people. Social-interaction is what builds up huge mountains of memories over mounds of our past in our intellect.

 

They don’t completely erase our past, but certainly brighten up our memories. This is how we tend to forget our past  and move on to  a future.

 

When we grow up, we leave a lot of our past behind us. There are so many events in our past; a lot of them are for us to learn lessons from.

 

There are important lessons of life all of us learn this way, but these events should be held important only to the point of whatever lesson there is to learn from them.

 

They should not be given any more importance. This was the important lesson she had to learn, just as I learnt an important lesson from her; I wish I knew why she still holds anchor in seas that are along forbidden lands.

 

She should move on from these lands. There are a lot of greener pastures and better lands waiting for her. She only has to move on.

 

I’m sure she will find someone better than me, and some day, she too can also laugh over memories of our infatuation.

 

I had moved on from these forbidden lands a long time back. I live in a real world where the sun still rises from the east and sets in the west.

 

There was a time when a passion ran wildly through my veins, but the ardour cooled down a long time back. I wish I could be the breeze with power enough to douse high-rising flames erupting in her heart to this day.

 

Even a strong gale isn’t going to be enough to change my mind. I am not in a position to change the world around me and mould it to my liking.

 

I have to accept the world as it is without changing it a bit or without changing myself a lot. This is how I am supposed to find happiness and this is why I didn’t want her to enter my life as someone of relevance.

 

I hope she understands my reasons in a few days.