Death in that sallow and solitude afternoon had come like an unwarranted, uninvited and unsolicited guest. It had come in most unlikely period and age. It was not a die-able age. No explanations, but it had come. It is a guest. No denial, no refusal. Accept it for it is your guest.
Sofi had no idea of that incoming guest. In that cloudy afternoon of village, when every leaves of the trees have dozed off, the temptation of childhood had dragged her to the river. She wanted to have a swim, her childhood passion. She has not done that for an age. She has grown up. She can not swim in an open river like a child. It is forbidden for a nubile.
Yes, the jump from that tip of spur to the whirlpool of water carries some challenge and thrill. Down stream of the spur, water moves in a circle with big and small whirlpools. It is a child play for Sofi to break the shackle of that big whirlpool with the powerful strokes of her legs. Those are lithe and graceful, moving with fluid efficiency. Let it turn me round and round with that downward suction. Let me enjoy the feeling of a revolving wheel. Sky looks beautiful though it is dark and gloomy with low-level pregnant clouds. Lost is the brightness of afternoon. Whirl pool is rotating her. Clouds in the sky are changing position fast with the increasing rotations of Sofi in the mid of the giant whirl pool. It is perfect, Sofi smiles. Where are you, John? She smiles again.
Sofi pounds her legs in water to keep her afloat and counter the downward suction. Sound of water echoes the sound of a drum. The drummer is in frenzy, the sound is falling out of rhythm. It is unsynchronized striking of water. The unimaginable has crept in. Sofi could feel slowly and surely the right leg is appearing heavy. It is tingling. Oh, God is it there! Right leg! Sensation is departing like a chased dog, running for life. It is fast. Disappearing fast. It spits up an instantaneous spike of panic. Move, the inner self urged and pleaded. No it is not moving. The right leg is drowning like a heavy log of foldable wood. It started hanging and drowning from knee joint. Slowly the incapacity and numbness moved up, now it hangs in water vertical from the waist’s hinge. The fear came like a tempest. The undercurrent of whirlpool is dragging her down inside the water, the movement left leg is hardly sufficient to counter that.
Jo----hhhhh—n, Sofi cried. Is that death! Where are you John? My winner! I can not leave you like that. I want to see you as a winner. My happiness ends there. I will bear the garland of defeat with your win, as I depart. My desires end there. Please answer me. Answer to that word play of last week.
HONORIFICABILITUDINITATIBUS.
WHAT IS THE NEXT BIGGEST WORD OF ENGLISH LITERATURE?
Please answer me, my winner! She cried and screamed. Jooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhn, she gasped. But she could not manage enough air to emit out a whimper. She felt like a punctured balloon, wind bubbling out of her lungs as she goes down. Cries are barely audible. Lungs are shrinking. She felt a vice like grips squeezing out every bubble of air inside her. Her screams are in her mind. Dark. Pitch dark. Sky above her. Sofi sees that for the last time as her head sprang up above the water in her last ditch of effort. After a moment, it is smooth glide inside the water balancing the buoyancy. It is dark. Pitch dark here too. Deep inside the water. A sudden twinkling of light flashes before her eyes. It is perhaps the most beautiful light she has ever seen in her life. Peace! The unsolicited, the uninvited, the unwarranted guest has left along with her!!
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The sudden sound of thunderstorm jolted, John. He does not know for how long he is looking that whirlpool in the tip of spur. The sky is wailing. It has become long. Pretty long. Thirty years. Thirty years of loneliness and solitude. Love never dies. It defies all. Before his eyes floats the silent smile of Sofi. The smile that flowers when John comes out winner. Be it a test in the class, a game of chess or a word play with Sofi. John, you are a winner, you are my winner. He had seen that smile whispering him in the thin air when fisher man’s net dragged her body from the water. The revolving water in the downstream of spur has not allowed the body rolled down far.
John could not look to that body for long. Small fishes have eaten away her eyes. But the smile in the lips is unmistakable.
Love! You are unique. You only come once in a life like birth and death. Nothing before you. Nothing after you. You have no comparison. You have no degree. There is nothing called good love, better love or best love. It is only love. There is nothing called first love or last love. It is only love. You have no adverb, no adjective before you. Nothing qualifies you. You encompass all. You are mixtures all emotions. Rests, in isolation, are mere physical and mental satisfaction. They do not have your vastness. They do not have your forgiveness. They do not have your sacrifice. It is enough to live with your memory for you come only once. You are never lost like lust. You live for ever for you are love. Only love can recognize you, love.
The sky is wailing aloud. The emotion of downpour is destroying that whirlpool. John sees smiling Sofi resurfacing and singing. John you are winner! My winner!! My love!!!
Unknowingly John mutters:
ANTIDISESTABLISHMENTARIANISM.
FLOCCINAUCINIHILIPILIFICATION.
PSEUDOPSEUDOHYPOPARATHYROIDISM.
PNEUMONOULTRAMICROSCOPICSILICOVOLCANOCONIOSIS.
Parijats, who knows better than you, the sacrifices of love!!!
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