A bottled strand of hair from the past


Shakespeare said once,

“Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away”

This is all about love; one day it shows us the how limitless the beauty of this world can be! We see the sky turns into red from blue, you wait for the sunrise and you set all your ears open for the silences of the night. You will find the moon behind the clouds and you understand how beautiful is the life you are living in. But as Shakespeare said, there is a day. A day when the darkest cloud comes and take all from your sky. That is the day of survival, that is the day of a second life!

In my childhood i used to see a lot of dreams. Dreams about me sailing a ship, becoming a king and leading a war or seeing myself as the hero of my favourite comic book. But i don’t exactly remember when my dreams turned into all about a girl who got a curly long hair and light blue eyes. But i liked that change, i bet each of you had such a dream when you were no more a kid.
I met her in one of my regular boring day and we spoke. She had the curly hair of my dreams, she taught me what life and love is. She walked with me a long while but then we saw two roads diverged in a wood, and she took the one less travelled by and didn’t accompany me. There is a saying that all your wishes will come as dream at night. I wanted her to be real in my life but she couldn’t. You know what? Past never ends, it keep on coming in your dreams. Every day, every night, every moment it hunts you. Dream is a place where no one can tie you with the rusted rules of society.
Even after i ‘shift+delete’ d her memories there are few temporary files roaming around. Here what i am writing is the story of a temp file.
*****************************************Few weeks back a lazy Sunday i was reading a book lying in my bed. Woke up by 7 but i couldn’t help myself to rise. I fell back to the bed and took a book and started reading. After a while i felt sleepy again and closed my eyes tight. After a few darkened moments i opened the eyes and saw a tiny bottle in my table. A very tiny small bottle which came from the future or past when i cleaned the room a day back. I got up took it and went to the staircase which steps into our sunny terrace. I sat on the last step which hugs the shadow of a mango tree where i can get some good breeze. I lit up one cigarette, took a puff and blew the smoke towards the shining clouds if the day. My roommate, the most lazy guy than me was watching all these activities through his bedsheet holes. I took that bottle in my hand and observed. It was an old perfume bottle of just 2 inches. When i opened its cap a nice smell hugged the breeze and roamed around me. I decided to clean it and make crystal clear, i took off its plastic cover and cleaned the pasted sides with oil. After the cap there was again a white small ball which is rotating in its neck which helps the perfume liquid to come out. I burned it with a match stick for a second and it got removed easily than i imagined. Now the bottle looks like the one created by “Jean Baptiste” in ‘The perfume’. I have something to keep in that, yeh there is something i wanna keep in such a place. I took one more cigarette and blew few more clouds.

I started thinking about her, the girl who was with me till few weeks back. She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, she got this long curly hair and blue eyes. She got a lot of love on me and she taught me a lot. Few days back when I was in the primary stage of this post i gave it my friend ‘Pallavi’ who is my editor. She read and said, “Man, you wrote things and it looks great. But where you described her, you didn’t described her beauty or how she looks like”. I was confused and I started writing again. But i still don’t know what to write about her, may be i can never able to express with words or i will have to get the help of Chetan Bhagat. But i can tell you what i am gonna keep in this bottle.
We both loved to sit in beach and watch the sea, she loved to see the waves beating the shore and goes back. That time she used to say, “Our happiness is like these waves. It comes and rise all of a sudden and we learn and love each other. But it all ends soon when the waves go back to the sea”. She said that and walked into where the sun dive into the sea. After she left i saw it resting on my palm. A strand of hair, a brownish long strand of hair which fell on my hands from her thick hair. And i took it with me as the gift of a beautiful evening. Now I have it in my perfume bottle, and i call it a bottled strand of hair which takes me to the past..!

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Jithin Rajan

what we write defines us..

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