Now, why am I writing this? This is a figment of a past that's dead and gone. No. I was not sitting and brooding over it. The memory of this event forced its way back into my mind. All I did was take an old note book from my shelf to tear off the side of a page to write down a phone number being dictated to me by one of my friends over the phone. And what did I see? A familiar hand writing? Yes, it indeed was a familiar script. Something that she wrote on my book a couple of years back, sitting on her bed in her flat and me sitting on the floor at the other end of the bed. And it goes like this:
I was observing your face suddenly I noticed those scars on your eye brow and cheek and my mind went back to that day when you were on my lap, you bleeding your head and face smeared in blood and you were groaning so badly. Suddenly I felt as if I wanted to hug you to my chest, keep you there forever so that you'd never be in any sort of danger. I love you so much XXXX, I don't know whether you realise. I love you so much that at times I feel that I can give up anything on earth to be with you, protect you, hug you near my heart forever. All my mighty claims of being an individual and pursuing a career and ambition - everything, everything simply fade before that mad love I have for you
Now, this is an exact reproduction of that scribbling that shouted at me from the page of my note book. If you find the punctuations missing, it's not a typo error. That's how she used to write. I now, observe that her writing style just reflects the person that she was then - careless of boundaries, mixed up in her thoughts and not too sure about what she needed out of her life. I was the only person who she trusted and maybe, even loved...
The writing refers to an event that'll never be forgotten, in our days of togetherness. I took her for a ride on my sister's newly purchased scooter and on our way back home, we met with a bad accident. It really was a bad accident! Though I wasn't riding too fast, fate or whatever made me ram into a truck that came from the intersecting road. The doctor at the hospital said I survived only because I lost my conscience just before the "impact". And that's true, for I still don't remember the moment I hit the truck or how it happened? By god or whoever's grace she escaped with just a cut on her hand and a few minor bruises (What if something fatal had happened to her then? How would I have answered her parents? More over how would I've ever slept in peace in my life?).
I had a displaced jaw, a broken collar bone and my skull chipped in a few places and that's the scars that she was talking about. Well, I got it fixed in a hospital and I still have a stainless steel rode in my right collar which would be a reminder of that event, until my 'real death'.
And that ride was a prelude to the many other crazy rides we had in the two years that followed. She was the best companion I had for such long rides. She "was"? Yes. 'coz it was only two years after that incident that we broke up. And why? 'coz she didn't really mean it when she said - All my mighty claims of being an individual and pursuing a career and ambition - everything, everything simply fade before that mad love I have for you. Eventually it was that "mad love" that faded! But, did it fade before her individuality, her ambition? I guess, not. The parting would've been much more bearable if those were the reasons.
Ah! It's been an year and few months since our parting. I can't say I'm completely out of it and that's 'coz I'm a bit too sentimental and emotional a creature to inhibit this earth. Even truer a fact is that I was so much used to being intimately involved with a person for almost five years and I couldn't cope up with the lose as easily as people expected me to.