Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Locking hands, we walked out into the open backyard of the plaza that looks into the sea beyond. It’s our favourite spot. Favourite because this is that one place that has seen us together more often than any other in this rather small city.

Just when we were a few feet from stepping into the open, we realized it was raining. Hard luck. We walked back in and found a seat in one of those mall’s fancy-yet-not-so-comfortable benches. As soon as we sat down, he took out the aloo bhujia packet from his bag (about which he had been ranting since the morning) and opened it. He offered it to me first (as usual), his eyes still on the open mouth-watering packet.

I especially loved the look of his eyes then. They gleamed with excitement and anticipation - like that of a little kid irresistibly holding on to a bar of chocolate which is not to be eaten till he gets home. Just imagine the poor kid looking restlessly at the bar every other minute or at times trying to make a small hole with his index finger so that he can just manage to get one small bite, or at most, lick it! It gets all the more frustrating for the kid when he has to offer that valuably held chocolate to his brother before he takes a bite himself. It’s the very same look that reflected in his eyes.

For a minute, I felt as though I were looking into my future son.

Our son.

I smiled. I didn’t describe to him about how I felt. Else, he would think that I were teasing him and give me that ‘droopy’ dog face which would embarrass the hell out of me in that busy mall. Instead I said, ‘You look so cute!’ and kissed him gently.

We spoke of the day’s happenings, most of the talking done by me than him! It was my turn and if I missed it, he would snatch it away to talk about Google’s new browser, the latest Samsung mobile, his utterly noisy and irritating colleague or even worse, the yet-to-be-released horror movie. Not that I’m not interested, but when a girl has something waiting to be told, it’s too hard to get her to concentrate on such ‘trivial’ things!

So the talk went on and on and I took a quick glance at my watch. It read 8.40pm. I realized something and asked him, “Do you know what day it is today?”

“3^rd of September. This time, exactly a year ago, I was taking off in the flight only to leave you behind with teary eyes which refused to dry.” He replied, as if reading off what ran in my head, through my eyes.

“Yup. Such a horrid day it was! But, one year from then, life seems definitely better!” I sighed.

“I told you to watch out for the same day a year later. Didn’t I Babydoll?” He said, closing in on me for a hug.

“Yeah Yeah!” I said shyly.

I had trusted in him. But the incurable pessimist in me didn’t build up much hope.

“Can’t you just come for 5 minutes?” I would ask him over one of those phone calls that went over the roof. The pain of separation had already made me void of any practicality.

“If I could, I wouldn’t be oceans away, listening to you cry honey.” He would reply, never tired of repeating those lines.

He came back sooner than he had promised.

That day, in the airport, I remember holding his arm really tight and telling him, “This time, am not letting you go. No matter what.”

We stood up to leave the mall. I walked alongside him, hugging his arm tighter than usual. He gently stroked my cheek in response.

I knew he heard my silence.

-Ms. Iyer in love