“..let me tell you one last thing. Irrespective of whatever goes around the moment I leave, I’m not and never going to mixup these two things. We couldn’t come together is defined by a logic and I can’t stop loving you, too, is defined by another logic. So never, ever try to push me into stopping loving you.”
“Hmm”
“.. And also I was here not because I wanted to create a rift amidst your life, just that I was really eager to see you go through. Not that I thought I’d ask you to stay. Because it was me who wanted you to sail back all the way where you came from and you very well knew why!”
I am at the railway station and even when I know I shouldn’t be expecting you here, I somehow feel you might just turn up and stop the hell out of me. That was what you did when I was at the station the last time we met. I don’t know what’s made you so so allergic to me this time, but I will really take this as a pro bono lesson for life.”
“I cannot keep texting you for long, he will really be pissed off if he sees me doing this again. I can only wish you luck. Bye”, Nishita sounded like she was done.
Praveen sat on the railway platform, waiting for the train to arrive and thinking what and where all went wrong? Why couldn’t he simply stop her and workout things? Why couldn’t he try consulting and coming to terms? How easily could she move away from something so complex? Or is she just doing what he suggested her to? Praveen, caught in his usual mind queue as he kept gazing the train schedule.
We often make decisions in life – some on the line of our wishes and some contrary to it. We try to live up to our expectations ourselves and seldom fail to disappoint ourselves. Not all decisions are fruitful but you need to stick to it. There are things beyond your realm and you need to acknowledge it. You could’ve been better doesn’t apply in places not meant for you.
It was over 4 years that Praveen wrote to Nishita from the railway station. His professional life went way ahead of what it was back then. But, as the evening sky rose up, nostalgia would clock in the nocturnal shades. He loved what he called his “our time”.
” I hope you stay happy with him and forget me completely.”
“That’s never gonna happen”, Nishita had once said.
Always Ranting,
Rantzaada.
The 11 o' clock diary 