“Promise me, you’ll write; and you’ll keep writing”; she said. I, for a moment could say nothing, well; for I wanted to write and by now the desire to actually jot down whatever I had inside had grown manifold. I knew, in her I had found the light I was so desperately seeking. Perhaps, sunshine had crept in through the seepages of my broken soul; she was shining bright. Her redemption of me, it was worth every word that I had ever thought of penning down.
The mind that was idle all this while; covered with the moss of lethargy; had finally found something worth writing about. She had to be captured, seized in words; for she won’t otherwise stay.
She had this knack of being awry; amiss, all the time. Certainly, not a dent in the near so imperfect soul that she proclaimed herself to be; her imperfection radiated rationality, fierce at times; so fierce that one would begin questioning the sanity the world portrayed. The world was never her cocoon, she was hers; her imperfections made her perfect. Imperfectly-perfect she was, no shades of grey about her; the wrongs making up for the right; for, Who cared if the wrongs weren’t layered like the rights we encounter these days?? She didn’t, and I didn’t mind; for I was in awe of her; I still am.
Lost she used to be in her thoughts, as I immersed myself too, trying hard to fathom the depth of what she held within, but all in vain. Vanity there wasn’t, though illusionary; but it was beautiful and fascinating; as fascinating as the person who held me captive. And, she was captivating; her words and actions all in sync, all the time. She could manage a myriad of emotions; and she carried them off rather well, nothing layered; nothing subdued. The black and the white never merging into anything grey; she held and withheld each; both equally vibrant; she was magic indeed, she still is.
Even more titillating was her silence; stunningly beautiful and mesmerising. Her words could never convey what her silence did, hard to decipher it was; yet the pull of it was something beyond comprehension. Words can paint a hazy picture of her; putting her silence into perspective though is hard. She manifested defiance; hard it was gauge what was playing on her mind.
Amazing it was to be transported from my humdrum world and to be taken to a distant land, a land of magic, where she would cast her spell and make me just gaze at her in wonder. All my senses would come to a sudden halt, as if surrendering everything to her will. She would then tip toe into the mind and set the ball rolling, casting thoughts and molding them into words. She was of frantic appeal to the mind, she continues to be; for collating bliss and despair and gluing them with the mortar of words hasn’t been so difficult. She does make it difficult, for she settles nowhere; my mind is just too small a playground for her to fit in. But, she does evoke a plethora of emotions as she passes by the corridors of my senses; good enough to ignite the flame and an urge to put into context the Magic that SHE is.
She was and still is hard to contain; in words and in reality; like her emotions, in haste at times. Effervescent she was; at times like a gush of wind, blowing hot and blowing cold, here and there, everywhere but nowhere. Nowhere I say, because that’s what she stressed upon; being nowhere, going nowhere and ending up nowhere, for me though she was everywhere. That was she, rock steady now and fickle then, and like everything else it added to her aura, the vibe she spread, warm and cold all at a time. And, it was beautiful, and she knew it all along, for she knew she was beautiful.
P:S: And, I’ll write; as promised, I will; for in her I now see my words taking flight and a dive, all at a time.
abhishek purkayastha 