Old Jeans – A Witness of Love (Part 03)

Posted: January 18, 2014 in NaBloPoMo
Tags: , , , ,

I was not sure, whether I was in love or some kind of infatuation which happens all the time whenever I see a pretty lady. But it was somehow different, we didn’t talk over the phone since then, didn’t sent any mail also, basically I hesitated to take the first move thinking she may find it over-smartness, irritating. So let my mind forget her and it was not easy. Though after constant try, I became able to concentrate on my jobs but erasing her thought was completely not done theory. I had to ask myself, whether I am in love or why is this happening all the time, why am I thinking of her all the time. I made my mind, after office hours, thought of calling her once.
Her mobile rang, continued ringing and none picked it, I redialed the number and again nobody picked the phone. Threw my mobile in anger and then threw myself in the warm comfort of my quilt, didn’t have dinner that night, happily skipped it.
The very next day, while working in my computer, got her call. I was in office then. Didn’t expect her to call me but anyhow it was her call only and I had to pick it up.
– Where you were from then?
– I was here only
– No phone call since then?
– Even you didn’t call me
– Generally a guy calls a girl first
– So did I, yesterday, it was my call only
We both laughed out loudly. We talked over the phone for more than one hour and made it a routine.
We planned to meet each other once again and that is possible only during my leaves and I was planning for it. We met each other and didn’t forget to comfort myself with my old ash denim jean which has changed its color already. It has lost its old glaze but still better than anything. We planned for a perfect date. Obviously it was my plan. We planned to meet at Swabhumi for a Bengali movie, then going out at Nalban, dining at some good restaurant. It was totally my plan and she has to agree with it. After dinner we walked for more than five kilometers to reach her home. We promised to meet again and bid good night.
It was some kind of tickling feeling I was getting from inside. While I met her first time, then it was just spending some good time, just to make my friend jealous of me, but that day I was not able to sleep at all because of her. Whole of the night, her thought made me busy and I was quite busy analyzing whether I am in love or again the same kind of infatuation. When the dark sky got its first tint of golden color, when birds started chirping again, when one by one the petals of flower started blossoming, I kept on sleeping. I kept on sleeping still a message received tone rang in my phone and so lazily opened it and found it was her message saying good morning and to my utter surprise mentioning that she also didn’t sleep whole the night. I had to throw my quilt and reply, “so get ready and let’s meet for a morning walk together.”

I got the call just before going to my office and that’s why it helped me to take a flight and go straight to Kolkata. Her body was lying inside a private hospital, covered with a white cloth. Her mom was crying and dad was sitting just beside her. I knew she was sick for the last five days and doctor guessed it as dengue, the fiercest ever attack in Kolkata. Newspapers, TV channels, everywhere it was being shown but as usual govt. was not accepting it properly just to hide their fault in taking precaution. But it happened, they forced my love to sleep, eternal sleep. She was sleeping, closing her eyes; her mom was crying bitterly and dad too. I stopped myself beside the door, broke into tears but controlled myself again. Touched her body and since then it was soft, same soft like she used to be before. I touched her hair, cheek and shook to wake her up. She didn’t respond. I called by her name, still she didn’t respond. I shouted at her and she remained silent.
I carried her body to burning ghats along with their family. Didn’t say a single word still her body burnt into ashes. Her fair body vanishes soon with the grey fume. She left me.

I took the jeans from my dust bin again, looked at its fabric, and touched everywhere. I am sure; I can live rest of my life just by touching this.

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