A Call from the past

# Story


My phone kept ringing. I checked my watch, thirty minutes past ten. Lights were still on. I might have fallen asleep reading. After two or three long rings I took the phone. I checked the number, not a known one.

Swearing at the caller I attended the phone.

X: Hello

I couldn’t recognize the voice at the other end. But it sounded quite familiar, someone I knew from the past.

X: Hello

Me: Hello

X:  Hey this is me Sreejith. It has been so long, right? How are you?

Me: I am fine. Where have you been? How come you called?

There was every bit of irony in that. I was the one who escaped from the past not him. I still couldn’t totally make out the reason why I did that.

Why is he calling me now? I had no idea.

X: Do you remember Gayatri??

Me: Who??

X: She was our classmate, she used to be a good singer.

Me: mmm. Yes.

X: She is getting married.

Silence

X: This weekend.

X: She was asking for your number. I didn’t have it then, got it from...... He said he will be coming…..

I didn’t say anything.

X: Won’t you come?

Me: mmm.

X: Aren’t you coming??

Me: mmm. I will try.

I just wanted to hung up the phone and get back to my sleep. But he kept on saying …

X: You are a hard man to reach. Where have you been all this time?

Me: Man, I have just returned back after a very long day in office. Bit tired. This is your number right??

I hope I didn’t sound irritated.

X: Yes

Me: I will call you tomorrow. Good Night

May be I had hung up the phone little too soon without even waiting for him to say a good night.

I went back to bed. Even after many long hours I found myself staring at the ceiling hardly finding any sleep. Many attempts went futile turning around in frustration trying to find some sleep.

Why is mentioning of her name giving me a sleepless night. I couldn’t ignore and let it go as I used to.

I walked to the balcony to have a smoke. In the darkness and prevailing silence, looking at the tall buildings all around without a sign of life anywhere, suddenly made me feel quite alone. It felt like I was staring at my past. In a rush to build a life of your own you tend to forget people who were with you. Does it happen with all the others or is it just with me? I don’t know.

Where do I start telling about her, Gayatri. If I am pressed to say why I loved her, I feel it can only be explained by replying Because it was her; because it was me. I didn’t have a reason not to love her. She was adorable in all possible ways. I admired her, worshiped her, cherished her in my dreams but never mustered courage to go and tell her. Many a time after that I resented over my lack of courage.

We were good friends back then, in-fact great friends, talking for great lengths over the phone sharing stories gossips and secrets, but never had the courage to reveal the sacred one. I just didn’t want to put our friendship at stake, but eventually lost both of that. If I had proposed her would she have said a yes? I don’t know. I will never know. Slowly it got added with many other 'what if I had done that' which occurred in my life. Though it was selfish I was in a way happy that even after such a long time I had some love left in me for her.

A lovely quote by Washington Irving went through my mind, "Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart".

The rain started to drizzle down. I watched it come down slowly in tiny droplets. May be I was searching for someone's face in the drizzle. I wish I could stand in the rain and let it wash all the pain away from my heart letting me start again.

I took another smoke. Why didn’t she marry yet? Though she is a year younger to me, it’s a bit late for a girl to get married. She was ambitious even then, used to say that she would marry only after achieving something in life. Many unanswered questions kept poking me hard. Should I go and see her for one last time. I decided against that, if anything is left behind let that be her smiling face. I can find some excuse to tell him. Like always I will get back to the blissful comfort of forgetfulness.

I was half aware of burning cigarette’s butt against my skin. I wish I could burn away all these memories as easily as that.

I must have been standing there for quite long. I slowly walked back to my room. I watched my wife having a sound sleep, couldn’t stop myself feeling little jealous. I silently slid to my side of the bed with a hope of finding some sleep.



If I am pressed to say why I loved him, I feel it can only be explained by replying: "Because it was him; because it was Me." - French writer Michel Montaigne.