Very long from now, when I run into you,
I will not be surprised.
I can not say why I won’t be surprised. We need reasons to do something, not to not-do something. But if you insist, let me muster a reply.
Because I will have been expecting it all along – like one expects death to end this dream of a life so that the real life can begin.
Because I will have wanted to, all along – like one wants to come face to face with a moment one does not know exactly how one will act in, so as to find out, once and for all.
Because you left me at a standstill when you left unceremoniously, without me knowing, right when I had thought you are not going to go after all.
And because I want to move on!
So, I won’t be surprised. Quite the contrary. I will have my each and every move planned.
I will keep looking at you with piercing eyes even when you introduce me to your husband. I will ignore his courteously extended hand, I will shrug.
I shall cut you short and ask you a question – ‘How have you been?’
Even before you tell me about how lucky you have been with life, I will have read the void in the corner of your eyes.
Then I will look at your daughter (or son) and remark at every feature, however insignificant, that she (or he) would have inherited from you. (You will tell me that she (or he) has her father’s eyes or nose or lips or whatever, and I will again shrug it off without a proper acknowledgement even).
I will try so as not to let you ask me any question about me because nothing would have changed between now and then and in case you make that very observation, I would leave you with a rhetorical remark – ‘How could it have’!
You will look away, pained and uncomfortable and say, “I would rather get going. It is very late and we have many errands to run. It was nice running into you.” I shall derive satisfaction out of that very discomfort, that very pain.
Anyway, that night will be different from all the ones I have been having ever since you went away. I will not be alone sleepless in my bed, you shall be too. In fact, when not being able to get to sleep, you get up and step into your balcony and smoke after ages, you will look at the moon and think of me. That very moment, I shall look at the moon too and right after, while you pace anxiously and think of the past and the road not taken, I shall go off to a deep peaceful slumber, never to wake up again.
Why?
Because one last look at you is what I am living for!