“Jindadi Bujhi O Yaar Sajan
Kabhi Morh Muhaar Aur Aa Watan
Ho Jindadi….”
Distances leave you no choice sometimes, but to be brave.
Bravery is defined by learning to grow out of things, or end up growing out of them without realizing it.
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My fingertips trace through the dried up wound on his forearm up to his shoulder.
He is silent. His leave ends in two days. In another time, I wouldn’t want to think about it, but it doesn’t feel that big a deal anymore. I kiss him, but my kisses do not render any love. His lips do not respond either.
Clutched in my hand are four of his letters that he wrote during his time away. One and half year. Four letters in five hundred and forty-six days. My birthday’s two days away.
“I’ll try to come back on your birthday. I will.” One of the letters said in his quickly-scribbled handwriting.
Usually, he would come home, with flowers and a small, nicely packed gift. We would have a nice dinner, cut the cake as he would sing the birthday song all by himself while clapping as I blew out the candles. I would laugh at his child-like enthusiasm, but he wouldn’t care. I would rest my head on his broad chest while he would wrap his left arm around me. We would lie down and gaze at the stars and talk.
His love never really needed any physical proof but he used to kiss me and tell me that he loved me.
Used to.
I never really thought of humans as a complete creation, but I guess he was my missing piece.
“Mohay apnay hi rung main rung lay
tu to sahib hai mera
main teri saahibaan”
And the night would pass away, one moment at a time, like all good things that don’t last a lifetime.
Those faithful nights, four letters with his scribbled handwriting, and him, that’s what defined my life. Nothing could outlast that or so a fool like me would think.
Defined.
He is here, on my birthday. But he isn’t singing the birthday song like he used to. I rest my head on his chest. His doesn’t raise his left arm, wrapping it around me. I gaze towards the empty sky; not a single shining star. The fan continues to rotate in a lazy motion.
They said he was a hero. Saved many before he sacrificed himself.
Distances leave you no choice sometimes, but to be brave. Only, my bravery has a different meaning than his.
“Naa maaye Naa Bhej Mujhe,
Mein Nahi Jaana Pardes,
Jis Raanjhe Sang Saans Judi,
Woh Ranjha Hai Is Des Re”
Have you ever seen madness being so calm in its existence?
