Is it that easy?
Courtesy: Hindustan Times
Tue, May 13 12:10 AM
I've only known comfort and security all my life.
I've not walked the less-travelled and forgotten paths.
I keep to the sunlit, paved roads carefully marked with directions and warnings. After I graduated, I married a man of repute.
I bore him a child, who studies in a reputed school. Most likely, he will grow up to become a reputed man and marry a suitable girl.
I live a glossy life, with a battery of servants, dogs and smiling friends, who look at me with awe. They wonder how I've accomplished so much.
While making breakfast this morning, I suddenly remembered him - my summer love, a love that was quick to come and go, but an everlasting one. It was the summer of '89.
I was 17 and holidaying with my family in a beach resort. The sun shone on my face and skin as I left my anxious parents behind and walked on the empty white beach.
The screeching seagulls, the crashing waves and the distant horizon - they enveloped me in a sense of newfound freedom. Alone and wild I ran across the sand into the water and felt as if I could go on forever.
As the air gushed through my head and heart, I felt truly alone and wild for the first time in my straitjacketed existence. I screamed my lungs out in joy.
Suddenly I caught a flicker of a shadow behind me and cringed. I turned around in slow motion, wobbly knees, as I allowed a complete stranger to embrace me.
And the funny thing is, without thinking, I too embraced him. And we spent a major chunk of the next five days in each other's arms.
It was not a romance that made me feel liberated, but it brought about a lazy unconcerned feeling of uninterrupted bliss. I pushed away the tense, irritable adult inside me, and let the little child emerge.
It wasn't love Now at 36, I'm not foolish to believe that it was love, although at that time, I wanted to marry him. It was more than love for me - it was the opening of doors to an empty field.
We felt devoid of complication and concern - like two floating clouds. And then it was time to say goodbye.
We did, because we knew we had to. That would probably be the last time we ever saw each other.
I came home and cried quietly in my room, telling no one about this quiet, happy affair. And then, like always, I went back to my old life - the life I knew I would continue with.
The good thing about summer love is that the lovers know, it will not last forever. It's the exciting feeling of nothing-else-but-this matters, which defines it.
As the sun rays give way to a colder moonlit sky, and children grow up to become responsible adults, these summer love stories are washed away in the sea where they were created.