It is 3 A.M. and on a chilly December night, I am confronted with these questions and many more that have been troubling me since this evening. My wife is asleep beside me and I can see her smiling, unaware of what is going on in my mind. Not that I had forgotten these questions, but I had certainly locked them inside, till the time I would have to close my eyes forever.
Yet I feel so weak since this evening. I have been trembling since I saw her that way, at that same bus stop where I had seen her for the first time. And the last time when I had seen her, I had wished to meet her someday again. But this way….. No! Never. Of course at one point of time, I had thought she could be the one with whom I would have shared my life. My wife also knows that she was not the first one I loved. That is the point of concern. Sometime, no matter how many years back, I had fallen in love with her. The fact could not be changed, and no matter what, I couldn’t have left her that way; the reason why my heartbeat seemed to stop when I saw her today, surrounded by a silent crowd, wounded and alone.
Since then, my mind seems to wander in every possible direction. How did she come here alone? Where was he? Where had everybody else been? More than that, I know I should not come in front of her till I think she would be ready for that. Thankfully, my father understood everything. He always did. Even at that time, when I had stepped back. And so did my wife. She has been considerate enough to let some facts remain as they were.
But I am still forced to wonder why she had come here; back to this city, back to the same place, and the biggest confusion, why alone? She would be taken care of in our hospital, but I may not be able to wait for long enough to know everything. Still, I had to, at least till I knew it was tolerable for her, considering what had happened when she had seen me last. I had accepted her words and known that I should never meet her again. Yet, I couldn’t ignore the calmness on her face when I saw her today, even with her eyes closed. As if that state was the one she had deliberately entered.
That calmness was something I had always admired about her. It made her stand apart even in the crowd. And the most surprising aspect was that she never seemed to entertain this fact. She was lost in her own world always and never seemed to care about the world around her. And I was one among many who cared about her. All I needed to know was how the girl whom I had once loved, and more than that, the one whom I had always admired with a sense of respect, had turned up here, in this situation. After all, I had some questions, some answers and some secrets which were linked to her in every way.
This story is not my story. It is the story of Mishti. The girl of strengths as I saw her always. The story of a boy whom she loved madly, Aryan. More than their love story, it is also the story of some confessions yet to come. The story of her sufferings and how she came here. The story of forgiveness and revenge at the same time. And among all this, it is my story too, as I was the one who played an important part, who saw everything. Yes, dominantly, this story is the story of coincidences, of miracles and of the undefined yet the closest relationship between two strangers, and that way, this story is ours- Mishti’s and mine. Hopefully, in the end I would be able to get the answer to my first question. Why had I been made to face this again?