Dear Zara,
How have you been? Time erodes so fast, isn't it?
It seems as if we were walking with your blue painted nails; seeking shelter in my hands just yesterday. But alas! That’s the false reality.
All the times we've had together and your childish whimsical talks still haunt
me day ‘n’ night.
It’s been damn long, Zara!
You've had been an epitome of wisdom and strength. How you
used to love my voice and compare me with a nightingale still makes me smile wide. You
are unlike other girls. You are not only beautiful but graceful inside out.
But what happened with you with us was unfortunate.
I remember once asking you what you wanted as a gift to
which you replied, “Something that stays with me forever, something imperishable.”
I understood what you meant at that instance itself.
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She wanted those flowers we always saw while travelling to
college. That flower seller had the most precious artificial flowers and he
always smiled and blessed us.
He used to mutter some words in Urdu and said we
both were meant to stay together. .
The wisest sees the fortune, I suppose!
But that joy of being together was mortal.
I remember how we peacefully sat on your birthday, under
those dripping clouds which submerged within us. You heroically told me about
Acute Leukemia which was swallowing you up enormously. You chose your birthdate to promulgate this to me. I was shattered, shattered into tits and bits,
Zara. It was something least expected; something I never wanted to happen.
But it did.
I was sobbing like a
young kid and you stood right beside me in that little blue dress with your
favourite flowers held close to your heart. You were smiling like a fairy and I just
cried sitting on the ground.
We started seeing less of each other. Maybe you didn't want
to tear me apart or hurt.
But that very news shattered me.
One fine day you called me up to drive you to the salon. As I
drove, I started crying terribly and you laughed on my red reindeer nose.
That made me better. I
recall myself yelling and banging my head against the wall seeing the
hairstylist chopping off your luscious ombre locks. You were smiling while
looking at your reflection. You got them all shortened and I was crying like a
madmen! I was sniffing and adoring you without a blink.
I wanted
you to stay by my side for eternity. I didn't want to lose you, Zara.
You still looked pretty with all the marks and bruises. You always
did!
….
Cancers tend to weaken the sufferer. They depress the person
but you fought it. You became strong and vigorous. I remember you playing sixes
and sevens with your body. But you didn't give up.
You fought like a soldier till your last breath. You gave in
all you had for your last whiff.
All of it was no less than a nightmare.
….
I entered that place and walked down those musty streets of Hyderabad
again. That place was all chaotic like usual but this time; I felt it was vacant
and deserted. I was bewildered and sad. The street was full of bangle sellers,
studded artefacts and food. Tribal women sat and were weaving and
playing with tender mirrors and Ikkat prints. The aroma of strong spices and dry
fruits and the infamous “Biryani” and their special “tea” always stunned me.
Nothing much has changed except two things.
One, that I was an alone and a single traveller this time and
Second, that our flower seller had aged and had wrinkles. His basket was still
brimming with beautiful synthetic flora like always.
I tapped on his shoulder and he recognized me at once. He looked
on my either side to greet you, but he failed. Even I did.
Neither of us said anything. He looked sad and I could understand.
The silence literally was ear piercing, Zara!
I took what I needed and walked back with a heavy heart.
…
And finally it’s the day.
It’s your 24th birthday, Zara!
It has been four years now and I kept on writing you
ceaselessly.
Hundreds of letters neatly stacked, tied with a red ribbon were
waiting to be posted. I never stopped writing them.
I couldn't get anything grand for you but a tiny token of perpetual
love and care.
I'm sitting here right next to your grave with the most
precious flowers and letters spread over. They had been longing to meet their
true owner and live under her eternal love.
The day has come, Zara. It’s bright yet cloudy. The wind
blows sweetly and the birds are chirping the merry song.
The prints have finally found a shelter and their address. The
blossoms and those brown wishy-washy sheets have found a soothing place for
their respite. They are smiling, Zara.
Happy birthday, my lady love. Hope you like the planned and
stay happy as forever and a day.
Keep shining. I adore you every night from the ground, Zara.
I miss you.
Love.
- Photography: Madhav Johri
