THE NIGHT was cold and gloomy. The moon shied away behind dark clouds, and not a single star shed its feeble light over the wilderness of the hills. In the stillness of the air, only the occasional chatter of birds high in the trees and the shrill whistling of the wind could be heard. Chingboi closed her eyes, listened to the sounds around her, smelled the fragrances of grasses and wild flowers. Mimin stood there, beside her, lost in his thoughts. And a long, unsettling silence filled the night which seemed to drag on for eternity.
As the coolness of the night’s breeze caressed Chingboi’s face, she felt the faint breeze stirring her hair gently and her eyes sparkled from held back tears. With frozen emotions, Mimin desperately tried to put together the words of what to say. The clock ticked on. He knew their time was coming to an end. But no word seemed to find its way up from his brooding heart.
Chingboi leaned on a tree holding Mimin’s hands in hers. She couldn’t bear to look him in the face. In her mind, she knew this was it. They both did. It had been an amazing one and a half year starting from the moment they met. It wasn’t fair that it had to end tonight. Again, she had found something that made her heart skip. And again, something was tearing him away.
“Ching,” Mimin quietly said. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t bear to hear what he would be saying. She was all of 18, and he was barely 19. In the region where she lived, her family surname carried the image of prominence and substantial wealth. Yes, her parents and family were wealthy, but Chingboi was far from being well to do in her own right. She was humble, compassionate and that’s the reason why she could be “in love” with a poor, noble guy like Mimin. Plus, she was emotionally and physically weak.
“Ching, ” he said again. He gently raised her face with the tips of his fingers; her brown eyes glided slowly towards him, slightly upwards, mollified and questioning.
“No,” said Chingboi bringing her focus back to his hands. The emotions were choking her voice. She couldn’t believe this was happening. “Min, let me just pretend that tonight is just another night, just another sweet moment.”
Silence came again. He took her in his arms, and they both leaned on the tree. Chingboi looked up at the summer night sky. “I wonder why no stars are there tonight. Everything seems bleak and dismal.” She paused and remembered the time they went stargazing. With a chuckle, she said, “Remember that time when we went uphill to look at the stars? And, you told me all the stories about each one of them?”
“I could never forget.” Mimin turned her around so they could face each other. “Ching, I meant what I said that night.” His voice was still gentle and quiet but the emotion was pretty audible. “And I still do.”
The past year had passed by like a tornado, quick and devastating. Yet memorable.
They first met at a freshers’ welcome while they were in the XIth class at Rayburn College. That was a couple of years ago. And from that moment, they found a mutual attraction in each other’s personalities. They had shared the best of times together like every other young lovers. Together they had run through the sand, walked through piles of leaves, sat in the green fields, wandered by rivers at night hand in hand, climbed the top of the mountain, swam the deepest sea, stared towards where the blue horizon met the sky. When the moon arced its way serenely across the azure sky as the night deepened, he had sung to her songs that he wrote for her – songs of love, praises, faithfulness, promises – and she had loved every bit of them.
Chingboi couldn’t say anything. The words that he had said to her on that night still reverberated in her mind. “Even if you are drifting away from me, my love will always surround you, my loyalty will always be true to you, my trust will always be in you...” Every word hit her like a dagger in the heart. She knew that she loved him too. But sometimes love wasn’t just enough. There was life beyond love. She had a great, caring family who wanted her to make it big in life. When the emotional blackmails from her family members tended to sway her, love didn’t seem to stand a chance in her way. And she was now standing on the verge.
Chingboi had told Mimin how excited she was to continue her studies in New Delhi. She used to dream of getting in one of the best colleges in Delhi University and of living a posh life in a big city, far away from the stresses of home. She had always wanted to break free from the confines of her family. She had always ended up “ooh-ing” and “aah-ing” over the thought of the bustle of city life. Movies. Shopping malls. Late night outs. Parties. Discothèques. Thumping music. Drinks. Dances. Glittering lights. A different world cut away from the so-called civilized society with social stigmas that don’t stick. And much more.
Reality sunk in. Now that she was going there the next day, all her past excitements seemed to have died down. She only wished if the night would go and on. A soft whisper awakened her from her reverie.
“Where are the days when you told me that you would never leave me? That you would hold on to me no matter what?”
“Did I? Didn’t I? I don’t know,” she looked up at him. “I used to believe that things would work out fine for us. But lately I realized I’m wrong,” she paused, then sounding serious, she said, “I don’t understand why would my family be so harsh on us. But I have to accept that they are doing this for my good - for our good.”
Mimin just stared, blank faced at the silhouette of the woman he loved dearly. Chingboi said, “I have a challenging career awaiting me and right now, I have to focus on my life. Maybe we will meet again somewhere, sometime… After I finish my graduation. When I’m a little bit more capable on my own.”
“You’re at it, Chingboi,” he said. There was no turning back now. There was no more stalling this conversation. Before she even said the words, he could feel his heart starting to crack. “You were my shooting star. You were my wish. You were my light.” He could hear her aching heart in those words as she too, tried to hold her composure. Mimin wanted her to stop talking because each word was only hurting him even more. He knew what she was going to say, and he wanted her to stop.
“Chingboi,” he said, “Don’t say it. Please. Don’t.” It hurt so much, and his eyes were starting to burn.
She continued anyway. “Before I met you, everything has been planned. These times together, I admit, I was happy. This past year. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt before. I’ve never been happier or full of life until you,” she paused. “Min, I – ”
“Ssh!” he put his finger on her lips. Everything that he ever wanted was in front of him. Everything, but something held him back from just immersing himself in it.
Chingboi moved his hand and said, “Min, I’m sorry I have to tell you this. We’ve to…” She couldn’t continue. She choked. And drops of tears came streaming down her cheeks.
“I have to go.”
That was it. The bitter-sweetness of those last four words framed it all. He heard the words in his mind, but he was quite unable to process them
Mimin searched her tear-ridden eyes for something, anything. Everything now seemed to fall into pieces. His voice sounded deep and drawn out and his movements seemed like something out of a dream. At that moment, they shared a painfully sweet kiss as tears rolled down her face. He didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t fair. He whispered as their lips parted, “I love you.”
With her dark brown eyes, she looked at him, “I know you do. I’m far too sorry this has to happen. I have no choice.” She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. They flowed as freely as her emotions now. “But,” she said through the pain, “I don’t love you.” That had to be the biggest lie that ever slipped her lips, but she had to say it for the good of him.
“You don’t mean that. You can’t say that after all this.”
“May be I’m not the one for you. I’m going off tomorrow, and you’re going to find someone who is better. I know this here,” she pointed to her heart, “and you need to know this here,” she pointed to his heart.
Mimin took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “My heart knows nothing but you, and I’ll wait for you. Even if it takes an eternity.” But, deep in his heart, he knew his words wouldn’t affect her anymore.
Flashes of memory came flooding in his mind. Sweet ones. Sad ones. And else. He was saddened not because he was about to lose his love. He was rather saddened by how the society had become increasingly materialistic, stratified and prejudiced towards the poor and the downtrodden. He was saddened by how the education system in Manipur had lain crumpled so much so that one has to say solemn goodbyes to loved ones, and friends - thereby creating, over and over again, a wide disparity between the rich and the poor. The thoughts made his heart throb wildly. He became angry, wanted to yell, scream, shout, cry, anything to get his feelings out.
But when his eyes settled on her dark, tearful eyes, he was dazzled, mesmerized, and, fascinated by her charm. He said slowly, softly, seeming to weigh every syllable that he uttered, “You came into my life, left footprints in my heart, and now you’d be gone like the wind.” He paused briefly, and continued, “I just want to thank you now for the memories of things we did together. I thank you, love, for everything you’ve done for me, everything you’ve meant to me. I pray that we’ll meet again somewhere in time…”
Their eyes locked for one long moment. At last, Chingboi said, “Goodbye.”
Then she was gone. And he was alone with her final word.
It was 12.00 a.m. He walked away and looked at the sky. It didn’t rain but the breeze was cold, colder than the previous night. In the distance he could see the sprawling town of Lamka stretching out asleep, peaceful and quiet.
[This is a work of fiction. The author has taken some liberties in playing out the live reality of our society. Any resemblance to actual events and persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.]
© vaphualization october 2006
As the coolness of the night’s breeze caressed Chingboi’s face, she felt the faint breeze stirring her hair gently and her eyes sparkled from held back tears. With frozen emotions, Mimin desperately tried to put together the words of what to say. The clock ticked on. He knew their time was coming to an end. But no word seemed to find its way up from his brooding heart.
Chingboi leaned on a tree holding Mimin’s hands in hers. She couldn’t bear to look him in the face. In her mind, she knew this was it. They both did. It had been an amazing one and a half year starting from the moment they met. It wasn’t fair that it had to end tonight. Again, she had found something that made her heart skip. And again, something was tearing him away.
“Ching,” Mimin quietly said. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t bear to hear what he would be saying. She was all of 18, and he was barely 19. In the region where she lived, her family surname carried the image of prominence and substantial wealth. Yes, her parents and family were wealthy, but Chingboi was far from being well to do in her own right. She was humble, compassionate and that’s the reason why she could be “in love” with a poor, noble guy like Mimin. Plus, she was emotionally and physically weak.
“Ching, ” he said again. He gently raised her face with the tips of his fingers; her brown eyes glided slowly towards him, slightly upwards, mollified and questioning.
“No,” said Chingboi bringing her focus back to his hands. The emotions were choking her voice. She couldn’t believe this was happening. “Min, let me just pretend that tonight is just another night, just another sweet moment.”
Silence came again. He took her in his arms, and they both leaned on the tree. Chingboi looked up at the summer night sky. “I wonder why no stars are there tonight. Everything seems bleak and dismal.” She paused and remembered the time they went stargazing. With a chuckle, she said, “Remember that time when we went uphill to look at the stars? And, you told me all the stories about each one of them?”
“I could never forget.” Mimin turned her around so they could face each other. “Ching, I meant what I said that night.” His voice was still gentle and quiet but the emotion was pretty audible. “And I still do.”
The past year had passed by like a tornado, quick and devastating. Yet memorable.
They first met at a freshers’ welcome while they were in the XIth class at Rayburn College. That was a couple of years ago. And from that moment, they found a mutual attraction in each other’s personalities. They had shared the best of times together like every other young lovers. Together they had run through the sand, walked through piles of leaves, sat in the green fields, wandered by rivers at night hand in hand, climbed the top of the mountain, swam the deepest sea, stared towards where the blue horizon met the sky. When the moon arced its way serenely across the azure sky as the night deepened, he had sung to her songs that he wrote for her – songs of love, praises, faithfulness, promises – and she had loved every bit of them.
Chingboi couldn’t say anything. The words that he had said to her on that night still reverberated in her mind. “Even if you are drifting away from me, my love will always surround you, my loyalty will always be true to you, my trust will always be in you...” Every word hit her like a dagger in the heart. She knew that she loved him too. But sometimes love wasn’t just enough. There was life beyond love. She had a great, caring family who wanted her to make it big in life. When the emotional blackmails from her family members tended to sway her, love didn’t seem to stand a chance in her way. And she was now standing on the verge.
Chingboi had told Mimin how excited she was to continue her studies in New Delhi. She used to dream of getting in one of the best colleges in Delhi University and of living a posh life in a big city, far away from the stresses of home. She had always wanted to break free from the confines of her family. She had always ended up “ooh-ing” and “aah-ing” over the thought of the bustle of city life. Movies. Shopping malls. Late night outs. Parties. Discothèques. Thumping music. Drinks. Dances. Glittering lights. A different world cut away from the so-called civilized society with social stigmas that don’t stick. And much more.
Reality sunk in. Now that she was going there the next day, all her past excitements seemed to have died down. She only wished if the night would go and on. A soft whisper awakened her from her reverie.
“Where are the days when you told me that you would never leave me? That you would hold on to me no matter what?”
“Did I? Didn’t I? I don’t know,” she looked up at him. “I used to believe that things would work out fine for us. But lately I realized I’m wrong,” she paused, then sounding serious, she said, “I don’t understand why would my family be so harsh on us. But I have to accept that they are doing this for my good - for our good.”
Mimin just stared, blank faced at the silhouette of the woman he loved dearly. Chingboi said, “I have a challenging career awaiting me and right now, I have to focus on my life. Maybe we will meet again somewhere, sometime… After I finish my graduation. When I’m a little bit more capable on my own.”
“You’re at it, Chingboi,” he said. There was no turning back now. There was no more stalling this conversation. Before she even said the words, he could feel his heart starting to crack. “You were my shooting star. You were my wish. You were my light.” He could hear her aching heart in those words as she too, tried to hold her composure. Mimin wanted her to stop talking because each word was only hurting him even more. He knew what she was going to say, and he wanted her to stop.
“Chingboi,” he said, “Don’t say it. Please. Don’t.” It hurt so much, and his eyes were starting to burn.
She continued anyway. “Before I met you, everything has been planned. These times together, I admit, I was happy. This past year. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt before. I’ve never been happier or full of life until you,” she paused. “Min, I – ”
“Ssh!” he put his finger on her lips. Everything that he ever wanted was in front of him. Everything, but something held him back from just immersing himself in it.
Chingboi moved his hand and said, “Min, I’m sorry I have to tell you this. We’ve to…” She couldn’t continue. She choked. And drops of tears came streaming down her cheeks.
“I have to go.”
That was it. The bitter-sweetness of those last four words framed it all. He heard the words in his mind, but he was quite unable to process them
Mimin searched her tear-ridden eyes for something, anything. Everything now seemed to fall into pieces. His voice sounded deep and drawn out and his movements seemed like something out of a dream. At that moment, they shared a painfully sweet kiss as tears rolled down her face. He didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t fair. He whispered as their lips parted, “I love you.”
With her dark brown eyes, she looked at him, “I know you do. I’m far too sorry this has to happen. I have no choice.” She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. They flowed as freely as her emotions now. “But,” she said through the pain, “I don’t love you.” That had to be the biggest lie that ever slipped her lips, but she had to say it for the good of him.
“You don’t mean that. You can’t say that after all this.”
“May be I’m not the one for you. I’m going off tomorrow, and you’re going to find someone who is better. I know this here,” she pointed to her heart, “and you need to know this here,” she pointed to his heart.
Mimin took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “My heart knows nothing but you, and I’ll wait for you. Even if it takes an eternity.” But, deep in his heart, he knew his words wouldn’t affect her anymore.
Flashes of memory came flooding in his mind. Sweet ones. Sad ones. And else. He was saddened not because he was about to lose his love. He was rather saddened by how the society had become increasingly materialistic, stratified and prejudiced towards the poor and the downtrodden. He was saddened by how the education system in Manipur had lain crumpled so much so that one has to say solemn goodbyes to loved ones, and friends - thereby creating, over and over again, a wide disparity between the rich and the poor. The thoughts made his heart throb wildly. He became angry, wanted to yell, scream, shout, cry, anything to get his feelings out.
But when his eyes settled on her dark, tearful eyes, he was dazzled, mesmerized, and, fascinated by her charm. He said slowly, softly, seeming to weigh every syllable that he uttered, “You came into my life, left footprints in my heart, and now you’d be gone like the wind.” He paused briefly, and continued, “I just want to thank you now for the memories of things we did together. I thank you, love, for everything you’ve done for me, everything you’ve meant to me. I pray that we’ll meet again somewhere in time…”
Their eyes locked for one long moment. At last, Chingboi said, “Goodbye.”
Then she was gone. And he was alone with her final word.
It was 12.00 a.m. He walked away and looked at the sky. It didn’t rain but the breeze was cold, colder than the previous night. In the distance he could see the sprawling town of Lamka stretching out asleep, peaceful and quiet.
[This is a work of fiction. The author has taken some liberties in playing out the live reality of our society. Any resemblance to actual events and persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.]
© vaphualization october 2006
