As I sit by the window, on a moonlit rainy night, all I could hear is music played by the sky, sometimes it feels as if it’s a rock song, and sometimes it feels like its sad hymn. I look towards my bed, I see nothing but loneliness. It is a huge bed, having lots of pillows, and yet I sit by the window side, hoping my cage will soon be open. I wonder why it that we are caged is. Why our wings are always tied? Why don’t we live life the way we want? I think about all these, but all I could is think, I can never speak, for even if I were to speak I wouldn’t be heard. In a way I am grateful that I would never be able to speak for I was born special as people call it. My room is actually more special than me, I don’t know what would have happened to me if it weren’t for the books which never failed to give me company. I am in my second year of college, and so far I have made no friends or so called gang. I was just in some other world all the time. I would spend all my time in library without getting a bit bored. That’s the power of stories; they can transform you into some magical world. It is from the habit of reading, I developed the habit of drawing. My imagination was quite good, I guess, which helped me to draw. I am an artist, I had the ability to create magic with my paint brush, at least that’s what everyone told me, I never believed in magic. Maybe it’s because I never experienced magic.
My inability to speak is highly connected to my inability to express myself. I never felt the need either, I was so in my world that I never felt connected to outside world. I had huge collection of books, sometimes I read the same ones again and again, and every time I read I got some new opinions. I never had a real friend, apart from my family I avoided humans, not that I hate but I kind of didn’t like, the reason is simple. I always got the same reactions from people, either sympathy or being checked upon every time to see if I am okay , or those who try to take benefit of me, for the simple reason that I am a woman. I really pitied them, it is nice to be like this, even if I talk, no one would know. I didn’t know though what my dream or my purpose in life is, I guess no one really knows Normally, people like me, who have some sort of special condition or in normal term disability, God gifts them with some other thing, maybe music, maybe cooking skills, it could be anything, I wondered what is mine but I never got any answer. Sometimes in life though we feel like we are in the end of our life, we feel as if we are simply walking without any destination. So many people say the journey is better than destination but what if there is no journey itself. I have always been amused by the word love. It’s just a small four letter word though the way in which it is used and felt is infinite yet we try to control it in this four letter word.
Love, this one word which embraces everything is what was missing in my life. I was loved, by everyone I knew, but I never felt it, maybe because I wasn’t able to express it properly. The sky seemed beautiful at night. It felt as it was waiting to be heard. It is just wonderful how the moon looked at night sky. I look towards my empty canvas, waiting to be drawn. My brush seemed to want my embrace, but I didn’t know what is it that I should draw, for my imagination was numb. I look up at the sky again, stars shining brightly, raindrops kissing the ground, the sweet melody of sky. I had lit my night lamp, took my notebook and pen, and went to my chair. I sat in silence for some time. It is strange how mind works, I was thinking something else and I reached somewhere else. It is not the first time that I saw this person when I closed my eyes. He was huge, like princes of old times. He was standing there and smiling at me, lending me his hand. I wasn’t sure if it was me on the other end, but somewhere looked like me, I had just become huge I guess. I could feel him coming near, my breathes suddenly started to increase, I wanted to open my eyes but I wasn’t able to, it took few minutes to force my eyes to open. It has been like that always whenever I thought of love this person’s face would come up. I notice there is a pen lying between paint brushes, I hasn’t used it till now. I take that pen, open the cap. It had beautiful nib. I hold it amongst my fingers; I could feel a shiver passing by my whole body. I take my notebook, turning the pages. Tonight I didn’t feel like drawing. I look at the sky again, smiled at the moon, and closed my eyes taking a sigh. I just got a wonderful flow of thoughts which just came to me randomly. Without much thinking, I start writing something like,
Come, let’s go...Somewhere far…Where nothing ties us,
Where we are free to fly, in a world of our own
Where there will be no one else, where we could stop time…
Moon is winking at me…Asking me why do I think so much?
I don’t think of the sun….Though we never meet….
For I know we belong to the same sky…love…
I need to shine now then only my sun would come bright in the morning….
He dies every night just for me to shine…And I die every morning for him to shine…
So strange our love is…Even though we are separated…
We are in love so much that time stands still in front of us…
Let time separate us and let anything come by our way…
Our love and shall stand strong….
I smile at the moon…wondering her pain…
I think of you…and all I wish is …come let us also be under the sky called love…
For everything in this earth and above is love…just close your eyes and feel the sky above…
We can see the love of sun and moon. Who died every day for each other…?
And maybe like that one day you might see me too…Waiting…
To fly…to be somewhere far…
Away from the noise of the world…where there is just the two of us…free in love…always…where time stands still…
Waiting for us….
I have no idea as to when I had slept off. I heard my sister, she was calling my name. She was asking me to wake up as it was time for class. I make weird face on her, she understands I don’t have mood to go today. She smiles and asks what lectures I had today. I show her the time table. She pats my shoulder and shows me that it’s okay. She wasn’t like me, she had lots of friends. For me my only friend in college was books again. Communicating was hard, I believe even if I had the ability to speak I wouldn’t be able to make friends like her, she is a lovely person. One of the person I love the most, my only best friend. After she leaves, I look at my notebook. It was laying there open, pages were moving along with the wind. I leave it as it is; I wanted to sleep little more time properly. I drag myself towards bed. Recent times I have been seeing this person a lot in my dreams. I wanted to find out who it was, but didn’t feel that curious either.
I woke up after a while, and went towards my mother; she just smiled and said, “Today also you didn’t go?”
I just smile back and nod. I rush to my room again. I couldn’t be outside my room for more than fifteen minutes. It was like some sort of escape room for me. Only my parents and sister could come anytime, anyone else is not at all allowed. Even them, they aren’t allowed to enter my inner room, which was actually my painting room. They saw most of my works but not all. I rush to my room, I take my sketch book. I could feel my fingers had to draw something different today. After a while, I realized that it was the same person I had seen in my dreams that I was drawing now. He did look good. He was sitting on horse, with a sword. Behind him, I had drawn traces of a palace. It was stone built one, surrounded with huge trees, and mountains. It took few hours to complete but it was worth the time. I check my mobile, I had received message from Jai my only other friend who could understand me a little I could say. He wanted to meet me, I don’t know why, but I say okay as it has been long time since I met him, he was my school friend. He messaged me again in a while that he would come over to my house to meet me, I felt relieved, and I don’t have to go out today. Time went quite fast. It was evening when he came; he came to my room slowly calling my name. I went to open the door, he runs inside pushing me aside, and ask me to sit down. He too talks a lot like my sister. I listen to all of his stories, I liked his company even if he talked a lot, and it didn’t bore me like others maybe because he thought of me as a friend. His eyes falls on the sketch which I drew, I had colored it half. He says its beautiful and all I just nod. He leaves after that, I look at it again closely, wondering who this might be who always comes in my dreams. I opened my textbooks, checked what is there tomorrow. I couldn’t bunk every day and hence I forced myself to sleep. I didn’t know 24 hours would go so fast.
The next morning, as I open my eyes, I see my notebook open, and there were words on it, I clearly remember I hadn’t written anything, it was written:
Let us choose one another as companions!
Let us sit at each other’s feet!
Inwardly we have many harmonies—think not
That we are only what we see.
No matter who we are or where we live, deep inside we all feel incomplete. It’s like we have lost something and need to get it back. Just what that something is, most of us never find out. And of those who do, even fewer manage to go out and look for it.
Choose Love, Love! Without the sweet life of love,
Living is a burden—as you have seen.
Love is the water of life
May love find you when you least expect, where you least expect.
It was the best handwriting I had ever seen till date, I knew it was Rumi’s words. I had no idea though as to who had written it. I thought of all possibilities yet nothing was convincing enough. I gave up thinking, just decided to leave, it might be just a dream. The next night, it was raining again, I sat in the chair, I opened the pens cap, and held it between my fingers, oh, what beautiful feel it was, suddenly I opened the notebook and my hand started to move on its own. The pen drove my hand, and started to speak. I was still in confusion of what was happening.
First it went on to write, “Hi, Hope you have liked my surprise, am impressed with your artistic skills, but I wonder, why so you have so much pain? What is the pain which you are always talking about?” I didn’t know if I was supposed to write or not but I decided to give it a try so I wrote, “Hello, I don’t really know if its surprise, it’s more of shock. I am sorry but I don’t think I need to share it now, and am quite surprised as well, that you can write by yourself? Are you some magic pen or something?”
There was a gap then again, my fingers just went that’s all I know and wrote, “Okay, tell me when you want to, well, what did you think, there are words dying inside me as well, just like you, I wish to be heard too, only if someone is there to listen, for I too don’t have voice, only words and most of the time silence. Silence is my voice as well.”
I felt bad so I wrote, “I am there for you too, and you can share your pain when you feel like.”
The conversation went on. We became friends quite fast and unexpectedly. Pen would advise me what I should draw when I was confused, what I should react even what I should be thinking about some topics. It was an interesting relation which no one could understand. In some days we became best friends, I forgot every other thing in world, it was only my new best friend which mattered to me, I took the notebook and pen wherever I went, and we were never away. I admired the opinions, ideas, time just seemed awesome. When you are weird everyone notices it and my family had noticed my changes, they were just concerned, and I don’t blame them , for they have tolerated me and my tantrums a lot, always forgiven me, so I didn’t mind it. They were the only humans I liked and loved and adored in this whole world.
One night, while I was asleep, something woke me up I rushed towards the notebook, searching everywhere for pen, it was nowhere to be found, I felt sad, I started crying. I never knew tears could fall like that from my eyes. It started flowing, I could feel heaviness, it didn’t want to stop, I blamed myself, cursed myself for losing my only best friend, I didn’t know what to do.
I held notebook close by my chest with the page open in which it was written, “I will be back soon…wait for me… my beautiful princess.” I wiped my tears. I was smiling and blushing, but then in a moment I was crying again, what if it was lie? What if someone had stolen it? I should tell someone but whom? No one would really know which amongst them got lost and I don’t know how to explain either, I decided to wait. It was weird and foolish but I didn’t feel like anything else. I was disturbed, irritated, frustrated; all I could think of was about my precious pen. After some days, it was raining heavily, I had put on lamp, but it went off, power cuts, it was late night or in the early hours of morning, so no one would really know if power went off to switch on the generator. I went by the window side, sat there, it was thundering and lightning, rain was pouring down heavily and it felt as if sky was in pain too, as if it were shedding tears off. I just sat there in silence, for I didn’t feel like doing anything else at that time