My Vain Remorse

        I love to walk alone. When I walk alone I often stand and wait to see how things are painted. I look at grasses; my eyes perceive the different shades of green. I look at setting sun painted in red. Seems like everything around has its own unique color. I stare, I stand, I stand, I stare. My eyes are wide open. I see nothing. Just nothing at all. Oh yes, I realize that’s me. That’s really me. O my god, I’m colorless. I don’t have any colors at all. Why could anyone forget to paint me? I open my eyes and they are vivid with different colors all around. I suddenly want to cry.

A Beautiful Evening

Clock strikes 5 pm. He dusts off his jacket and puts it on. He puts on his pair of tattered jeans. He puts around his neck a muffler his mother had knitted a good ten years back. He smells his musty old muffler, looks at himself on a piece of shattered mirror he had kept for years, gives a faint smile and walks out of his house.

Out of his house, as he descends downhill on his foot a cool breeze of air starts caressing his face gently. He can still smell his musty old muffler as he sways himself with the breeze. He does not want to think about anything. He does not want to recall anything. He does not want to let go of the past and does not bother to think about future; what waits for him in a long run. He just wants to walk as long as his weary flip-flops do not give away. He occasionally looks at passers-by but most of the time, he is too indifferent. May be little occupied. Still descending downward he looks on the road ahead that makes a figure of upper case English letter ‘S’ while he himself feels like sliding over a huge Anaconda’s back. He is occupied with the scent of wild flowers of the nearby forest and the sweet perfumes of roses that grew on the hedges alongside the road.

When he reaches the bottom of the hill, he looks up at the sky. The typical winter sky looks as it is being painted in different shades of red and sees the master painter in the form of red giant ball sinking down and down behind the distant hills. He sits down on a huge stone at the side of the road and gazes at the rapidly sinking red fire ball. His eyes are transfixed on the horizon. It is still 5 pm for him. It looks as if everything around him is time proof. Suddenly he feels soft fingers covering his eyes. He can smell fragrant aromatic air surrounding him. Then a soft breeze whispers on his ear.

‘I’ve been watching you for more than half an hour. You’ve been gazing over the sky without even moving, like a statue. What’s the matter, my dear?’

‘Oh god! I almost forgot you. When did you come?’

‘An hour before.’

‘Why didn’t you call me then?’

‘Just wanted to look at you.’

Still in whispers.

‘Just to look at my back?’

‘No. I was trying to figure your mind out.’

‘Had I not poked him at his back, this absent- minded boy would have already forgotten me. Who on earth could be more absent-minded……..?’

He caresses the hands that are still closing his eyes.

‘I’m very sorry my sweetest heart. I didn’t mean that at all. Sorry please. Now may I see my beautiful princess?’

He removes her hands and turns back to look at her face. The smell of his musty muffler, the cool gentle breeze, the fragrance of flowers, the red velvety sky and all the beauty of the nature he had just witnessed seem to be in enigmatic harmony with the radiant beauty of the face of his beloved Nanu. To him, her eyes reveal much more than that. He finds himself in those eyes. His life seems to sprout in her eyes. Moreover, in those eyes, he finds a reason to live.