The Birthday

I failed to make it to every page of her diary, but that one day was most special.

I huff and puff,

For I know it’s tough.

I’m sorry I swear by Jove,

‘Cause I couldn’t give you that one thing called love.”

I closed my eyes when I read these words. 17^th March, 2010. That was the day; my 27^th birthday. That was the one good day in my life; the only good day in my life. The only one day I had her. The only one day I got to show my love for her. What happened next was something I wished never to recall. But today, those very memories are breaking the veils of the tears that I hid for so long and are showing in my eyes.

“Don’t go far away I pray,

For I have many more things left to say.

For many nights and dreams I saved a thing,

And before I know I leave, I’ll love to sing.”

I loved Neha. But I fell short of one thing she most desired in her dream man-popularity. Born with a defective eye-sight, I was forced by Providence and the doctors to put on the thick goggles I had to, and somewhere down the line, I was misconstrued to be a geek. She hated geeks. And what a fool I was! I never ever mustered the courage to protest, but all I did was blatantly confessed and with obvious refusals every time.

School was done with, and we were separated by long road miles when in college. Internet was something I preferred not using due to the often invasion of privacy by people. So I preferred phone-calls and texts. I still remember how I longingly waited for a reply to my texts. And to every phone-call I made, I got a “I’m busy now…” from her. Not even a “Sorry, I’ll call you later.” But I never gave up. I would send her letters and texts and birthday cards. She replied, but once every year, on my birthday. I still cannot describe how happy and elated I felt on those days. Yet, they were short-lived as the agony of separation would suck me into it like forever.

Time was the only healer but alas! Time moved on. Thanks to the advancement in technology, I lost my goggles in a five-minute operation. But my feelings for her never changed. I was an accountant in a multi-national bank. And she was something I didn’t know, for all I heard of her was an annual “Happy Birthday.”

That day was my 27^th birthday. After a tiring day’s work, I returned home exhausted, in delightful anticipation of a short-lived annual moment of joy. But somehow, that day, the letter didn’t arrive.

When it was 10 at night, I was almost sure that I was no longer eligible for that moment, the door-bell rung. I wondered who would want to visit me at such a time at night. I wasn’t expecting anyone as such. But the moment I opened the door, I was shocked due to overdoses of shock and happiness.

Neha was standing at my door, with her luggage. Her beautiful face had broken down to lifeless pieces of sorrow. Her eyes drooped and tears zigzagged all across her face. Yet, she was looking beautiful, for no matter how bad a diamond is carved, it will always shine. She came in, and for the next fifteen minutes or so, she lay dead on my shoulder. She wept and wept and didn’t seem to stop. I was weeping too.

The conquest of smart lovers had taken her on a very dissatisfying physical and a nightmarish meta-physical journey. Scarred by injuries, she was the sorriest thing on earth that I had ever seen. I slowly lifted her head up and before I could even utter the three magical words on more time, this time in voice, she pulled me near and kissed me passionately. She kissed me like none of the many girlfriends of mine ever did. I knew those were fake promises I made for temporary pleasure and satisfying my quota of lust. That day, I understood what pleasure was.

She kissed and kissed me. I was not an earthly being that day. I was completely driven by sub-conscience, and fearlessly I moved on my hands on her shoulders and removed her clothes. I felt her bare breast full of hard feelings and the love of maternity in my hands. I drank the milk of love while she caressed my hairs gently, yet passionately. I slowly felt a hand removing my clothes and I didn’t stop her, for I didn’t want her to stop.

The feeling of the conjugal bliss was evident as soon as my masculinity was tamed by the overwhelming love of her femininity. I pushed harder and harder and she went on kissing me as if she desired the taste of my saliva more and more. The slow puffs of her warmth breath brushed through my face and soon I began roaring like a tiger in a zoo free from bondage. Finally I found my shelter. I so dreamt to ride on the white unicorn that guarded the Elysian Lawns, and that day I truly did so.

That night we lay in each other’s arms, naked on the floor. The next moment I opened my eyes, I was the only one to have made to the earthly side of sleep. She lay motionless on the couch. And after the burial, I found her diary.

Today is my 28^th birthday, our first anniversary and her first death anniversary. I open my eyes and see my soul coming out in parts with the exhaled smoke of the cigarette I’m smoking. Yes, I long to die and be with her one more time, for I still love her.

“You are my rising sun and shooting star,

You are near, yet so far.

You sound as fresh as the running waters of the mountain streams,

You are my days, my nights and my dreams.

I drug and dose and drink and dose,

Alas! My love, I won’t ever be so close.

We were forever for years much this way,

And it will be always that way, as I’m riding away.

But the one big thing that was due,

Yes my true lover, I loved you”