parvathy
It had been raining for more than a week, so much rain it made everyday seemed so restless and gloomy. She called and said she was coming. It was the third time she came to see me that week. I carried her excuse of why she came all the way here and went to meet her at the nearby cafe. She was standing there alone, carrying her red umbrella. Her friend had dropped her off. It was raining and she was shivering. She looked weak and fragile in the harsh rain, wearing not enough to keep her warm. I walked up to her and said, "You shouldn't come see me anymore," and stuff like how we shouldn't be together.
She said, "I miss you."
I told her coldly, "Lets go, I'll take you home."
She did not open up her umbrella; I knew she wanted to share mine.
I looked away and said, "Open up your umbrella, let's go."
Unwillingly, she opened up her umbrella and walked with me to the car. She must have wanted to hold my arm while we crossed the road. She said she hadn't eat lunch or dinner and asked if we could stop at some place to eat.
Right away I answered with a stoned heart, "No!"
With silent disappointed eyes, she asked me to take her to the train station; she said she would take the train back home.
Maybe it was the rain, all the trains were full of people with umbrellas and backpacks who were eager to get home, not caring about who just passed by. We waited and waited, she looked at me with helpless innocence. Being together for so long, of course I knew what she meant. I understand how she must feel when she came all this way here in this kind of weather and I treat her like this. With her soft eyes staring at me, I felt guilt and wanted to let her stay for the night.
But reality struck again, I said to her coldly, "Let's go try the other train station."
We were living in the same apartment building, on the same floor. Back then there were four of us friends, and we got along well. We would always hang out together, watch movies, and sometimes go camping. We were more like a family, but I didn't know I would end up falling in love with the only girl of the four. Maybe it was during the last year of high school, having living together next door for two years, we developed deep feelings for each other. After she graduated she went back home to her native for degree, and I stayed to finish college. During that year I was only able to take the train down to see her on holidays, but never for long. That was how we kept the treasured relationship. We were walking along the side of the road. She was in front of me and I was right behind her. Her umbrella had a broken spoke. She looked liked a wounded soldier, carrying her rusted rifle against the rude rains. Maybe like she was in a confused thought or so, she drifted off the road many times, almost getting hit by the cars passing by. I wanted to just take her in my arms, but with the love I had for her and the constant pain in my stomach, I did nothing.
On the way, we passed by the park where we used to always go. In Koramangala, near the school.
She begged and said, "Lets go in the park just for a little while please, I promise I'll go home right after this."
With her begging, my cold heart softened, but I still put up an annoyed face and walked in the park. I was just sitting on the benches looking like I wanted to leave. She went to the big oak tree and she was looking for something. I knew she was looking for what we wrote on that tree with a silver ink pen half a year ago. If I remember it right, it said, "Amit and Paru was here, Amit had tea and Paru was drinking hot chocolate. Hope Amit and Paru would always remember this day, always loving each other, forever." She was looking around for quite a while, then she came back slowly with tears on her face. The worst thing I liked to see on her.
She said, "Amit, I can't find it, it's not there anymore."
I felt so sour inside, there was a stream of pain, flowing into my heart, the kind of pain I've never felt before. But all I could do was pretend I didn't care, and said, "Can we go now?"
I opened up my big black umbrella, she was just standing there, didn't want to leave yet, hoping there was still a chance. She said, "You made up the story of you and that other girl didn't you? I know I upset you sometimes, but I'll change, can't we start over?"
I didn't say a word, just looked down and shook my head. After that we just kept on walking towards the train station, didn't say a word to each other. Was she crying again? I didn’t want to know.
A month ago, my stomach was hurting for two weeks straight, and the nightmare awakened me again. I did not tell anyone about it. I am 19; I can take care of myself. First I thought the pain would go away, but it grew stronger until to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. I went to the doctor and took an X-ray.
I was at the most glittering part of my life, but it was coming to an end. Paru, my most precious. The person I love the most in this whole world, who still doesn't know the truth, was here today asking me not to break up with her. Parvati was still young, she shouldn't have to go through this. So I made up some stories and lied to her. It was a cruel thing to do, and it broke her heart, but it was the fastest way to wipe out three years' feelings. I didn't have much time, because I might start to loose hair and she would find out eventually. But now I'm close to succeeding, this drama would soon be over. Thirty minutes more and this would all come to an end.
There were no trains at the other station so I called a taxi for her. We were just standing there. Waiting. Loosing our last moments in silence. I saw the taxi from far away. My eyes fogged as I held my tears and said to her, "Take care of yourself, take good care of yourself."
She didn't talk, just nodded lightly, and then opened up her misshaped umbrella and stepped out on the street. Out in the rain, we became two single life forms, one red, one black, so far away from each other. I opened the door for her and she got in, then I closed that gate that would separate me from her forever. I stood by the car, staring in the dark window, at the first love in my life, also the last one, walking out of my life.
The car started, driving into the street. Finally I couldn't hold myself and the straining pang in my heart any longer. Waving my arms rapidly I chased after the taxi, because I knew, this would be the last time I see her. I wanted to tell her I still love her, I wanted to tell her to stay, I wanted to tell her so much, but the taxi had already turned in the corner. That X-ray flashed through my mind. It had a big black spot. The truth, I did not want to believe - Stomach Cancer. Warm tears rolled down my cheek, blending with the cold rain drops. I was cold. Not because of the rain. I was cold inside. She left. I know she didn't see my tears, because they were washed away by the rain. I left without regrets. But I'm not Amit, I'm that girl Paru, using my memory, and his diary I found after one year since he left, writing down these last words.
“Darkness isn't the absence of light... it's the absence of you”.
In the loving memory of Amit.
A true life story.
- Parvati.
