She was lying on my bed, reading the note book which I had, lazily, left on table. Her bag was put on floor, makeup box on my study table and her wet clothes were hanging in balcony. This is how I meet her for the first time. Furious…….I just banged on the door and shouted, “Excuse me, who told you to enter this room?”
She pulled the notebook down and I was looking at the most beautiful eyes of the world. Innocent, childish, soft, she mumbled, “Hmmm…actually…actually...Aunty” and by that time mom entered the room.
“I asked her to take this room. She is your maamiji’s distant cousin and lives in US. She is on a vacation and wanted to witness an Indian marriage, so we invited her. She will be here for some days and then you would have your room back” said Mummy and took her along.
She turned and gave an apologetic smile and I raised my eyebrow. I, then, secured my notebook, took some clothes and moved into the adjacent room.
I was on a week leave for my elder sister’s marriage, and had planned to spend it resting my room which has been my territory ever since childhood. A week of complete rest, even if it combines with your sister marriage, is justified for a person who has returned from the border after 1.5 years. Yes….I am an army officer posted in north eastern part of India.
My plan for rest war already gone; but now I was losing something else in me. The more I saw her, moving in company of cousins, talking with aunts, or just reading something sitting on sofa, I felt some unknown excitement, uncontrollable attraction towards her. But so far, even after two days, I didn’t get chance to talk to her.
“Tea, Saabji” I heard these simple words thousands of time from my subordinates every morning, but this was different. I opened my eye and saw her having tray in her hand. She kept the tea on side table and turned back to leave the room, saying “I am not safe if our army men sleep so long and so deep”. She was gone before I could say anything. This was for the first time, she talked to me directly and it made my day.
Next day we went to groom’s place for function. She was to come in my car. She insisted on driving and I kept making fun of her driving, even on the slightest of her mistakes. Sometimes she ignored, sometimes gave an eye and at times frowned at me. Luckily we had the conversation started between us.
For next couple of days I took her to famous places in our town, organized a dinner for her and presented the hand crafted dolls made in our town. She was enjoying and I felt closer. Once she casually asked, “when are you getting married?” and I could not muster the courage to ask her. I didn’t reply.
Finally after a week she left and I joined my post back. We kept in touch through mails and occasional calls. Mom kept on insisting for my marriage and I finally decided to ask her. But I was not sure about her feelings. She was just friendly, is it me who was exaggerating it as love? She was happy with me, or was happy in the new surrounding and warmth of India? She was keeping in touch, or would she not obviously reply to friends? I was torn between two extreme ends of thought. I asked my inner self, but it eluded me of answer.
Today I muster the courage to ask you, Mehek. Yes, the girl mentioned in this letter none but you. I have a liking for you from the day we meet, but I never had the courage to ask you. This letter when reaches you, I expect a reply. An answer need not be affirmative; needless to say I will respect your decision. I am trained enough to get bullets, negative answer will not kill me. But of course, life would be simple and uncomplicated if spent with someone I really want to.
Take your time and do reply, “Will you like to spend the remaining of your life in army colonies, with a man who in our first meeting wanted you to go out of his room. The same person would like you to rule his home. Will you marry me?
Awaiting you reply....
-Mayank.
Mehek put the letter in her purse, keeping the notebook back into the black army box which was sent to the family by Army after Mayank had sacrificed his life in an ambush with ultras. Family was shattered, but Mehek was calm. Calmness of morning dawn which is beautiful in itself but still misses the radiance of sun. She went to Mayank’s room, lying on his bed, and started reading the letter, which was never posted, again.
