LEASHED

It was the first time I was visiting a museum in New Delhi. I had seen many art galleries and museums across the world but this one felt special. It had a traditional touch and taste. The paintings there were astonishing.

I walked past all the artworks, spending time seeing and understanding them. I had just roamed about for nearly 15 minutes, when a large painting on the other side caught my attention.

It was marvellous. The painting depicted a little child holding a man and a woman with a leash on either side. The background was dark but the child was surrounded by a halo. All of the figures were wonderfully drawn.

I was standing there, admiring the painting when suddenly I saw a familiar figure standing beside me.

Her hair fell straight on her shoulders, some strands of the front part falling over her face as well. I looked at her from the side, but I felt that she was known to me although I couldn't remember who.

After sometime, the girl lifted up her head and slightly turned her face towards me and I suddenly got reminded. It was Amaya.

Eight years had passed since I had last seen her. But there was no drastic change in her appearance. The face, the figure were still the same, just that the tiny mole on the side of the ear had grown a bit bigger, the eyes had become prettier and she looked more matured. She looked angelic. But some uncertain touch of dullness overshadowed her beauty, not allowing the excellent features to express themselves.

I wished she would see me and recognise me, but her eyes were focused on the painting- observing every minute detail and interpreting every meaning of the artwork.

Throughout my life, I barely had any fascination for art but since the time I visited the Louvre in Paris with my friends, then The British museum, I developed a love for paintings and I always try to visit the famous museums everytime I visit a new country.

But I knew that Amaya always loved art. Even in school she used to participate in exhibitions, drawing competitions and not a single time did she come back without winning a prize. She was an excellent artist.

Standing not more than 6 feet away from her, I couldn't stop myself from looking at her although I knew that it was an awkward thing to do in a public place like that.

The more I looked at her, I more I got reminded of those school days- those filled with loads of memories and moments. She used to be my classmate whom I liked. She was my crush; or rather my love to whom I could never confess my feelings. I was an introvert who always kept his love within himself, enduring all the pain it caused for not getting the soul which my soul wanted the most.

I recalled those days in school when I used to wait for the recess time to meet her. I would go to her to discuss studies which was mainly an excuse to meet her. But even if not, I would spend the entire twenty minutes looking at her, observing every movements secretly from a distance. I would feel excited when she used to walk past me, I used to feel my heart beat at its fastest rate and my cheeks blush red whenever she would be close.

I recalled exactly the last time I saw her. We were sixteen back then. It was the day before Valentines day. 13th of February. That day I bought a present for her, spending all my saved up money to gift her the next day and to confess my love for her. My friends had given me this idea. They always used to say that I needed to be confident and confess her on a special day and gift her something to make her feel special. So I had prepared everything for the day but unfortunately, that was the day she had'nt come to school. She never came after that. I had later heard that she left the city, though nobody knew the reason. I could never at least bid her a goodbye.

Years had passed since then. But my feelings for her never got erased- for some heavenly reason unknown to me. That girl was standing beside me. Right beside me.

I was getting back those feelings, I was again feeling shy. I wanted to start a conversation with her but I was losing courage everytime I tried to speak. But then I heard a voice.

"You are Anay. Is that right?"

I stood there, petrified. Did she really notice me? And even if she did, did she really recognise me? Or did I mishear her? I started questioning myself before I turned my face to her and said, "Did you call me?"

"Are you not Anay?" She replied.

"Oh! Yes. I am Anay. You...you are Amaya. If I'm not wrong."

The moment I said this, I felt really ashamed. It was quite a vague reply. But she smiled, stepped a bit closer to me and said, "So you remember me. Not bad."

"Yes, seeing you after a long time."

"Yeah. I didn't expect you here though. Do you live here too?"

I suddenly realised that I wasn't in my hometown and was in Delhi.

"Ah, no. I presently live in America. I just came here to spent the holiday. My sister lives here in Delhi so I came her to visit her."

"I see. You must be doing a good job."

"Ah...just okay you know; I mean yeah, they pay well."

She looked at me and smiled. "Nice."

"And you?" I asked.

"Oh, me? Ah, it's embarrassing. I still didn't manage to get a job. Actually I got an offer recently but I had to turn it down because I have to give time to my mother."

"Your mother? What's with her?"

"She is struggling with kidney failure. So, I want to spend time with her now because..."

A tear fell from her eyes and within seconds, her eyes turned watery and she couldn't help but cry.

She gulped in and continued, "Because her days are now numbered."

She wiped her tears and spoke again, "And probably you don't know. My father was diagnosed with cancer when I was sixteen. That's why I had to leave school as we came to Delhi for his treatment. And in August that year, he left us forever." Saying this, she again broke out crying.

"I somehow got into a college in Delhi but then I dropped out because my mother fell ill too."

I was surprised. I could never know that she was going through such a situation. Her face was dull. There was despair in her eyes. Seeing her cry, I felt pain although my pain was nothing compared to the amount she was enduring. Had I been in touch with her, I could have tried to help her somehow. I thought of asking her to allow me to help her in someway; with money for example. But before I could ask she said, "Leave it. Time will reveal my fate. Now, I should not about it anymore. I need to stay strong."

I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say in order to comfort her and I didn't want to elaborate as she was breaking down. So I changed the topic and said, "I see, you still love art."

"I do. I still paint pictures. I feel solace in it."

"You used to draw really well in school."

This made her smile. Through the corner of my eyes, I saw her blushing a bit.

"Thanks." She said. "School was much fun. I miss those days."

"Me too, Amaya."

"Do we have any memories together? We weren't that good friends after all. Oh, I remember. You used to come to me to discuss studies. You were very childish." Saying this, she pressed her lips tight and then chuckled once more.

It felt like she loved school a lot and that probably those days were the last days she could enjoy after which her life was full of darkness where she had nothing but hardships and despair.

I felt the urge to ask her for her phone number but I hesitated. I felt awkward to do so as we had just met after eight long years. The situation felt weird. We were neither strangers, nor friends.

But I knew I loved her. She was someone I wanted to have with me all my life. Probably I couldn't express it to her, but I knew my feelings. They were true feelings. She was right. I was really childish. That I fell for someone I knew I would never get. Because I was weak. I never had courage. I was a meek guy and she was a bold and strong girl. I was no match for her. Even if we were closer or even if we dated, people would have hated us because I was a much self centred guy who was known for being a crybaby as a kid and just a nerd as a teenager.

I glanced back at her once more. She was focused; this time not on the painting but on something else. She was focused and lost in her thoughts. The pretty eyes got dark and constricted which with time got filled with tears, making them sparkle in the light and the pink plump lips started shaking.

I assumed that her brain got clouded with harsh memories or thoughts- something which only she always kept to herself dared to bear with.

Throughout our conversation, she had probably looked at my eyes only once or twice. Her eyes were trying to beg for some help but could not. Probably there were much more she had to say and ventilate but could not decide whether to do so.

She closed her eyelids and held them down for some seconds after which she opened them and said. "Anay, I'm sorry for that day."

"S-sorry? For what?" I asked in confusion.

"I know you waited for me that day. Sorry, I couldn't come to school. My dad was very sick."

I just looked at her. I didn't know how to reply. I was perplexed.

At my silence she said, "Ah, did you forget? You kept a gift for me for that Valentines day. Don't you remember?"

"Oh that! I do...I do. I didn't know you were going through such a situation so, I was a bit depressed." I covered my mouth in shame. "By the way, how do you know?"

"I know everything! Haha." She joked. "Well, a friend told me." Amaya chuckled. "What was the gift by the way?"

"Do you really wanna know?"

"Of course. I couldn't recieve it. Let me at least hear it."

"So that was a...a small show piece. It was...kind of a globe which had a small statuette of a couple inside and had keys which on winding could make them rotate and make it seem like they're dancing."

"That's so adorable. It would have been so good if I saw it with my own eyes. Oh well, that was a Valentines gift right? So...you liked me."

I was blushing again. I gulped in and said, "Well yeah I did." And I pressed my lips.

"I did too."

I got startled. I couldn't believe my ears. I was taken aback by her words. She liked me? The person whom I was crazy for, liked me back? And I didn't even know!

"What!" I exclaimed.

"What? Can't believe? Well yeah, I liked you too. But I never got the courage to tell you. So when I was told that you had brought a present for me and that you liked me too, I was crazy. I longed to get back and meet you. I always used to feel like you are someone close but was too shy to speak to."

She lowered her head in shyness which made a few strands of hair fall on her face. She lifted up her head again, tugged the hair behind her ears and continued, "I wanted you. I don't know when and how I fell for you, but I loved you and considered you close. That's why probably I told you so many things today."

She waited for a few seconds and spoke , "Yeah, I know that's past. Today we again met after years. At first I thought I was dreaming. It was probably destined as I always wanted to tell this to you. But now we can't do anything, right? You live in a different country now and I'm struggling with my personal issues. "

I nodded. Yes. We could do nothing. Time had changed everything. We couldn't have changed our fate. Neither of us. I was anguished to know about Amaya's sufferings. But that was her fate. Her mother would leave her soon. She knew it. Yet she stayed strong though it was hard to accept.

But still I somehow felt the urge to go comfort her and make her heart lighter, to go tell her that she could count on me in her hard times, to love me again like she did in the past. But I was hopeless.

"I feel pity. I should feel sorry that I couldn't help you, that I couldn't stay by your side." I said.

"How could you? Were we even in the same city?"

I agreed. But then I said, "Um...Amaya. If you don't mind can I have your ph-"

Just then, her phone rang.

"Wait a minute, Anay."

She took out her phone from her bag and frowned the moment she saw the caller I'd. She hurriedly answered it and her face went dark. She was trembling. She was petrified. She instantly burst out crying. She got out of the way, running as fast as she could. I followed her, but couldn't catch up with her speed. She dashed out of the museum and disappeared.

I looked outside to see it rain. It was dark. It was raining heavily. I associated the intense downpour with her tears- the tears that fell from the soft eyes like drops of rain. It seemed like even nature was crying for her.

I surmised that someone would have given her a bad news which made her react that way. I was trying to ask for her phone number but instantly, this happened.

Probably we were never destined to be together. That's why, even this day which brought her close to me couldn't bring her to me. She was gone again and this time too, I couldn't bid her a goodbye.

For some reason, I believed that probably we had no 'bye'. If destiny got any better, then I hoped to meet her again someday. But that was just a mere hope and mostly imagination.

I was too deep into my thoughts that I almost forgot where I was. I adored her so much that I almost forgot to look at the painting I was standing in front of. I went back to that place where we were standing and it made me realise that it was just minutes ago that we were together after years. My love, whom I wanted like insane was just beside me.

I turned back at the painting and felt like the painting was trying to tell me something. I kept looking at it, almost getting hypnotised, deciphering it's meaning. Then, after observing every minute details and understood the true meaning of it. The little child-like figure with a leash on the painting was like time or probably destiny- naughty and playful but innocent. And the man and the woman tied to the leash beside were lovers who couldn't meet. But they were connected even after being away from each other: connected by destiny. If the child pulls the leash, they will be brought together. That is upto the decision of the child.

Probably me and Amaya's life was also similar to the couple in the painting. Destiny pulled the leash today but released it again.

I was only left with hope that someday, we will be pulled together by destiny again and that day, I could expect to get her back- the person for whom, my love was forbidden.