45 days. That was the number that he had in his mind, when he returned from the office that evening. Forty Five days to live this life to the fullest. After that it was a period. He had to decide what he wants to do in those days…
Those days would be his last days.
Early morning next day, he left out on his bike.He went to the shop on the side of the hill, bought a beedi and sat there watching the clouds. Clouds passionately kissing the hilltops. Then he remembered her, and their first kiss. She was coming back from the temple, through the muddy by-lane which had huge walls on the both sides. Sun was setting. He met her while she took the turn to her house. And she offered the sandal wood ‘prasad’. But he wanted it to be done by her and so she obliged, and pasted the paste of ‘prasad’ on his forehead. He in return took her face in his both hands and kissed her. Nothing was planned, it just came and she didn’t hesitate.
That ended there, and they separated. And now he doesn’t know where she is. He just remembered her, and his past life.
That night, he packed his bag and went out again on a journey. To meet people, to capture the last glimpses of the places he knew very well. For days he wandered, alone, but with memories of his past life. To his school, where he was a kindergarten kid, to his college where is studied the algebra’s of life, to his hostel room where he found himself.
He drove down to his past companies, where he did various kinds of jobs for a living. He went to his favorite dimly light lit bar and boozed, took tequila shots for the one final time.
He came back to his house, invited his best buddies. Some turned up; some said some excuses and didn’t come. He served them Chicken Curry that he always made to its best. And had Rum, Vodka and Champagne for a toast. He delighted them with music, and Ghazals. They partied into the late night.
He woke up with a heavy hang over the next day. The hall where they partied the last night was a mess, with glasses, bottles, plates and food all over. Nobody was there. He checked the time in his watch and noticed the date. One month more.
He went to his bed room, took out an envelope from the drawers of his table and opened it. Inside it was a letter. He read it once again, put it back into the envelope, and wrote the address of his best friend. He sent out his marriage invitation letter, after those last days of his bachelorship.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
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