Print Edition - 2017-03-08  |  The Collegian

Sirio

- NISSIM RAJ ANGDEMBAY

Mar 8, 2017-

The winter’s cold breeze chilled my tired bones. It was time that I rested; my heart had been broken asunder. Even though I loved him, it was unfair of me to ask anything now; the pangs of love nudged me like a terrible blizzard on an unsuspecting mountain. All of my mistakes imprisoned me in the cell of my own agony.

Love never bargained. The instant my eyes drew gaze upon him, I knew he was perfect. Yet he was human, having his own moments of brilliance, sparks of happiness and bouts of idiocy. Yet, these did not matter. I met him on that cold winter day, a day I remember with warmth. The snow had hugged the trees, the cold wind had kissed the picturesque landscape. I was born and molded by the lofty mountains in this area. It gave me strength, wisdom and confidence. The cold snow radiated warmth; the sleepy mountains gave me energy.

I introduced myself to him. He sniggered; “Troy”, he said, laughing as my barren heart was filled with a flood of emotions.

As our ‘friendship’ deepened, so did my abyssal desperation. Every breath he took, every step he made would make and take the myriad of feelings I had. The north side saw no sunlight; the south never understood the cold. He was the reason for my happiness as well as my misery. Yet, a deep insecurity persisted like spilt red wine. How could I ever tell him my feelings without being ridiculed? Yet I believed that there was hope, no matter how bleak. Hope after all was the reason why I initiated contact that cold winter day. It felt wrong yet it felt miserably good.

Some months later, I decided to pour out my feelings for him into a cup. Like simmering milk, I couldn’t contain it without spilling. I took him on a drive to the mountains on the foothills of the valley. I loved to drive; it calmed me and soothed my jaded nerves. After all the usual conversations, I now knew it was the time. Yet, a blot of a disquietude charred my canvas of courage.

“Troy, I have something to say to you”, I said, trying my best to subdue my agitation.

“What is it?” he inquired. I became nervous. I gripped the steering wheel harder as I bit my lip to stay alert.

“Troy…it is just that…” I started to convulse. Just around the corner I saw a hairpin bend. Foolish me, I had drifted. Perhaps, I should have taken coffee for breakfast. Troy had a nice smile.

I remember no more. I woke up much later, my eyes staring at the hospital ceiling light. Troy was nowhere around me.

Troy did not survive. If fate was something, it would be a plunderer. It robbed me of my only chance. Yet, should I remain bitter at fate or curse myself? I do not know how to answer to my own rhetoric. The same mountains that gave birth to me took half my soul away. More so, I lost the one whom I truly loved; I will never know whether it was reciprocated or not. I like to think he did. Or maybe not. They also told me that I shouldn’t have survived such an accident. I wish I hadn’t, too.

A year later, I found myself on the spot where we had first met. With a heavy heart, I took in a deep breath. Fate is cruel; acceptance even more so. I sighed and looked on at the winter sky. Hopefully, the cold breeze will quickly dry my warm tears.

- Angdembay is a recent graduate from St Xavier’s College, Maitighar

Published: 08-03-2017 08:41

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