Monday, September 17, 2012

The question

She asks him "When?".

He steps towards the window and looks out. It is evening and the sun is on the horizon. The sky is a visual cocktail - a myriad mix of the colours of the rainbow. Hues of blue set against pale white stratified clouds bidding adieu to the fading yellow sun.

For a long time he is silent, his gaze fixed on the setting sun, as if almost experiencing a philosophical deja vu. A torrent of memories sweep across the arid landscape of his mind and at the same time he is reminded of the mission with which he was chosen, a long long time ago. He falls into a reverie of the past, the ageing sun still burning in his eyes.

He has almost forgotten why he is here anymore. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. This was not the path he was to tread when he began his journey. This conversation was just not in the plan. Yet, a question has been asked and answer, he will.

He thinks again of her, the one who had asked the very same question a long time back. Its been eleven long years since he first met her. Where she might be now, he has no clue. What would have become of her, he doesn't know. Does she still think of him, he is not sure. Does he still think of her, he does. Does he still feel the same way, he doesn't. He was different back then, he is different now. His thoughts bring him to the now.

There is someone who is asking the same question now. A different person. The very same question. The very same, very difficult question. But a question has been asked, and reply to it, he shall. His gaze shifts from the sun and across the ocean onto the rising moon. He steps back a bit and breathes in the misty ocean air, as if inhaling the scenery before his eyes. Then, with the weight of his past and the depth of the darkness inside him, he speaks, "Soon. Very soon."

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