What
happens to a bird that has been nestled and nurtured, who finally gets noticed?
This
is the greatest story of my life. I, Reily Cameron, make a confession to never
to fall in love again.
It
all started from a party in the month of October, a mere party with music and
the dense night. Had there not been an exchange of glances, had there not been
an exchange of promises, had there not been a moment of notice, I would have
been a freer bird.
As
an aftermath of that party, Ander Cruise and I become the greatest friends or
maybe something more than that. We talked over the phone for long hours, we
debated, we fought over trivial issues, he revenged the hurts that I would
inflict on him and it never could be the same.
I
would wake up during the nights thinking about him, I would not eat anything, I
kept growing weaker and weaker and yes, he was all over me: the breath that I
would breathe.
Nothing
lasts forever, does it?
Ander
was going to another country the next year in September and I was to stay back
in the same country though in a different city. We knew that we would be
separated one or the other day but we were too immature to handle ourselves.
There
was Skype, there were unbelievably high telephone bills, there were low grades,
there were struggles for independence, there were struggles for freedom but
nothing could work on us. We were still we.
It
was the month of December: a cold December until my warmth returned .I was a
dither and anticipative. I remember how I jumped at the telephone: once, twice
many times just to check whether he had returned or not. He was there. I heard
him.
‘Hi’,
said I, confident on the face yet anxious underneath.
‘Hi’
‘Are
you feeling well? You must be feeling so strange. I remember when I had
returned from Darjeeling to my city: it was a drastic change. Everything seemed
smaller than what I had been used to for a while. Is that how you are feeling?
Ander? Why are you so quiet?’
‘I
feel strange.’
‘I
know: you will take some time.’
We
decided to meet in the evening, an evening that I can never forget. It was dusk.
I went outside the lane and stood there waiting for him to arrive. I kept
getting more and more restless as there was nobody around. He finally came in
his grey car.
‘Hi’,
I looked at him.
He
extended his hand towards me in a hand-shake and I took it. He was still the
same: I was relieved. His face looked the same, a tanned complexion with dark
and penetrating eyes, dark hair falling over his forehead and then his hands;
they were still large and accommodating and his self was still angry yet
beautiful.
We
went for a short drive because he had commitments back his home.
We
were the most disciplined that day. We were formal and kept a lot of distance
from each other.
The
next day we went for a longer drive in the evening. We went to the countryside
from the city for some time in silence and with each other. There was a long
clean road, stretching up to the horizon; there were long stretches of green
fields with trees on either sides and then there was a little lake. The Sun
shone on its surface and made it alive with exuberance. I was with him, he was
with me. We decided to stop and sit by the lake side.
We
sat next to each other, close to each other. Passers-by noticed us but we kept
sitting there in silence.
‘Do
you want me to click your picture?’
‘Okay’
We
clicked our pictures: together, separately, together with the sunshine and as
it started getting darker we drove away.
On
the way as we kept talking about our whereabouts, he said,
‘Hey,
are we in a relationship?’
‘Of
course we are. We fight, we pretend, we pretend but deep down we are always in
a relationship.’
He
took my hand in his. They were warm and comfortable. He seemed to get uneasy.
His eyes were lustrous. He was unsure about whatever he was doing. He kept
saying that he was not feeling well. He stopped the on the roadside.
I
was confused. I think I saw him shivering. He held my hand, he held my face and
kissed on my cheek gently, he put his head down on my lap: I started caressing
his face; he took my hand to his lips and then my palms and then my hand again
and kissed me there too. I kept asking him if he was fine. He was not able to
articulate much; I was confused.
He
resumed driving. We reached my home.
‘Ander,
I am leaving now. Tell me what is wrong with you? ,’ I said about to open the
door of the car.
He
took my waist in his hands and started kissing me on my lips. I was taken aback
and jerked back but soon, I was kissing him as well. We kept kissing each other
as long as we could.
I
took his precious face in both my hands and kissed him again and again.
It
was peaceful, safe and comfortable.
My
phone rang up and I had to go.
I
did not know what to think when I was out of the car. I was smiling, my face
was flushed and I was smiling again. I felt like a little criminal yet I was
happy.
We
met everyday regularly after that once. We would only kiss, snuggle and hug
each other. I had fallen into him; I had fallen into love.
We
kissed goodbye to each other on the last day we had met. I flew back to
Darjeeling. When we talked over the phone now, he seemed very distant to me. We
had not talked to each other much in the next few days until I got a call from
him just to tell me: ‘Reily, I cannot come to meet you at Darjeeling’.
After
the light, had come the dark. The last day on which we met was the day when his
family confessed their disapproval of our relationship to him in private: ‘It
will not be able to last longer’, had said his mother to him.
Who
is next from the nest?
