Zahra woke up with expressions — slightly dazed, and eyes — far dreamier.
After watching the moonrise late night, we decided to get some horizontal time. It was a working Monday for me and she had a long journey with three connections starting in two hours.
Having our eyes shut for last hour, settled the dandelions of vistas we beheld. I woke up with a serene smile, and pulled the curtains to see the snow crested mountain shimmering in the moon light.
I didn’t turn on the lights yet — I had nothing to say and I let her sleep till it was time. I thought of writing — I didn’t. I had no idea how to say bye to her but, it wasn’t for me to plan, I will live the moment when it arrives. Her alarm buzzed in ten minutes. I turned it off, and called her name.
“Tell me, bus got cancelled again?,” I didn’t mean it. She had to go — be her, do things she do best — explore many universes that are out there.
“Let me check,” she had a playful smile as she dialled the driver. I caught myself smiling at her too, I didn’t hold back.
Those dandelions of moments from yesterday were now a kaleidoscope of memories. It’s filled with our origin story — every moment we shared, everything that worked out in precise manner for an epic to manifest, and all that’s to follow will only add colours to it.
My heart was full — savouring a sweet flavour of duality — the desire to hold on and let go.
It was almost 3 in the morning and we were crossing chai-sutta bar on our way to bus stop.
“Let’s share one last drink?” She tapped from behind. We had learned how to talk without knocking helmets now.
I parked Ghazal. The place neither had sutta, nor tea ready. The last drink we shared was after the moon rise — when I finally let go of our totem from that day, “May this be the worst drink/meal of our lives,” and said, “This really was the best day of our lives,” and there was an implied yet.
The same moon was now hanging ahead as we drove towards the bus. We admired it, and we felt admired. The bus was waiting for us at the stop. We got down, sorted the bags, and handed it to the bus marshal.
There was again a comforting heaviness in the air. We hugged, wished our best to each other from the bestest corner of our hearts, and I closed my eyes for a moment to capture the last image of her climbing the bus and walking to her seat from that one parted curtain.
I drove back with music in my ears.
There are scenes that endures in us for days when we read or watch something beautiful. Zahra and I — we lived a play — undirected, raw, and real.
It changed a lot in me and I am re-shelving my life to find a place for this kaleidoscope I am carrying since.
A lyrical portrait of April 29th ‘2024
Well well… we definitely hope it is a “yet” and more to come 😊