365 Days of Letter

31st December, 1988

Another year was on the verge of ending, while another was on its edge of arrival. Streets flooded with lights and new year resolutions, posters and countdown clocks adorned all the main roads. Shops were decorated with balloons and posters of their sales; small bakeries and restaurants spread aroma in the air, while the luxurious giants lured people with their glamour and grandeur. The streets buzzed with people- happiness was in the air. I felt reluctant to go home, but I knew I had to.

After a day's work, a man is expected to return home for a relaxing shower and then spend some time with his family, but that was not the reason I was rushing.

The clock read 8:30 pm when I reached home. After washing off all my tiredness and eating my mother's prepared delicious steak and pasta, I finally went into my bedroom to finish my last piece of work for the year.

I adjusted the clock right in the middle of my table so that it always stays in my sight. Then, taking a clean piece of paper and pen, I began writing. Ten minutes gone- two lines done. I read my work and then carefully rolled it in a ball for it's journey into the dustbin.

I tried again- just to experience the same outcome. I was distracted.

I looked out the window and the tiny pops of children and garnishes of colour and merriment called out to me. I decided to go out and finish my letter in the park.

...

9:45 pm

I sat alone on the furthest bench in the park. Gentle breeze blew amidst the myriad of hues. I looked around- all the happy couples, giggly children- their sense of leisure and relaxation vexed me. I wanted to join them- but I couldn't.

9:05, 9:10, 9:15 ...

The clock was ticking and I was bound to my promise of finishing that last letter.

I tried to look back to the day all this had happened- the promise, the letter and of course, Ira.

Ira- the love of my life.

I tried to recollect every moment of that day, and it hit me.

It was the 31st of December.

We were in this very garden, sitting on this very bench- sipping on our orange juice, and talking- calm and relaxed. Everything in the universe radiated peace that day- the sweet chirps of little blueis, the mellow scent of the grass and those small, humble touches of wind on our ears every now and then. It was all pure happiness and utter perfection- until Ira gets up.

"I need to tell you something."

I looked at her with lost eyes. Never had I ever in my life before seen her face so serious. The sparkling mischief in her eyes had disappeared; her smile had faded...

I leaned in, and listened- listened intently.

"I'm going to Flint for a year. I just received a letter today- my father is sick. Mama seems to be holding on but," she stopped.

Her eyes watered. I wanted to hold her, hug her, tell her it's all going to be okay, but all words simply latched onto my lips and she only heard the ones that crept out- "Go on."

She seemed taken by my words; nonetheless, she started again.

"I'm going there for a year and," she stopped again.

This time it wasn't because of her tears draining her voice out. She was crying alright, but it wasn't that. It was something else- something much more different; something I had never seen before and I couldn't figure out.

I was so fixated on her eyes that I hadn't noticed when she had started to speak again.

"I'm going today."

3 words. 3 strong words.

"Today?"

"Now."

My eyes widened and I kept looking at her. She seemed to be opening her mouth to say something but she didn't. She simply kept looking at me- straight into my eyes- as if expecting me to say something- and I knew exactly what it was. But I didn't say it.

I kept looking at her with those cold dull eyes that I was cursed with. I flashed my eyes for a second and I noticed her brother waiting for her on the street.

"Goodbye Ira. Take care."

And I walked away.

I didn't even stay for a second longer to wait and see the colour fade from her eyes. Not even long enough to see her watery eyes fill with shock, then anger, then hurt. I hated myself for being so cold, for hurting her- but I couldn't do anything about it now.

Wrong- I didn't want to do anything about it. An unknown sense of anger had taken me totally under its control and I didn't know what to do. I simply walked home.

From my dim bedroom, I could hear the New Year Countdown- that's when it all came over me. I wanted to go to her, say sorry, say that I'd wait for her; tell her how much I loved her, how much I'd miss her and what I could do to just let us be together.

I sighed.

At that very moment, I picked up a pen and a paper and wrote all that was in my heart.

Once I was done, I knew it. I made a promise.

1 year- 365 days- 365 letters.

Ira- my Ira.

...

10:28 pm

So much time had passed and not a single drop of black appeared on that sea of white. I felt sad. In the early days, I could sit with a pen and paper almost anywhere and get up with a letter of 18 pages in my hand- both front and back- that too, within an hour. As days passed, I lost my pace. The reason for this I assumed was that I was growing short of words; or worse- I was growing long of words- but I couldn't write it. I was scared. Scared that I may not be able to express my feelings properly through these words- so that she might just see the quiet, unfeeling me- just as she had the last time.

I was getting paranoid.

I knew I had to finish this last letter, but a zillion thoughts raced my mind and I couldn't think.

What if she doesn't come?

In fact, why am I even thinking she'd be here today when neither of us had mentioned it that day?

I knew I acted like a hopeless romantic but still I wanted to wait and see what happened. I longed to see her.

J noticed I had begun to shiver. Whether it was my pounding heart or the literal cold- I didn't know. I decided to take a walk.

...

The soothing colours of nature gave me peace. No wonder all the greatest inspirations had risen from Mother Nature. I heard the soft green grass giggle as wind brushed past their cheeks. I felt happy. Across the park, I could see the increasing number of people on the streets- waiting to light their fireworks. Some arrived with their ladies in big, shiny cars; others seemed contented to walk up to their favourite spot with their partner- hand in hand.

I returned to my bench.

I picked up my pen and began to write. Very slowly, carefully, I managed to frame somewhat a 100 words in my first paragraph. I felt a lot relaxed. I looked at my watch- it read 11:40 pm.

My heart skipped a beat. I had so much left to say and no time left. I tried to quickly write down whatever came to my mind but so many thoughts circled in that I couldn't pick out one.

11:50 pm

I gave up hope. I knew I couldn't finish my last letter and I felt devastated.

A scarlet shade suddenly stopped in front of me- hushing my zoony mind. It was wearing in a thin, peach girl- her black hair fell down to her hips and her jingling payal gave rhythm to my frantic heart.

It was my Ira.

I looked up. She really was here- in flesh and blood. Though I'd done all this in expectation that I might see her tonight, nonetheless, I was surprised- surprised in a really good way. In a way that made me feel our hearts were connected, and that we could hear each other even without words. I felt ecstatic.

Neither of us had said anything till now. I wanted to start but I didn't. I only looked at her. She seemed happy- happier than I'd ever seen her. Her face had regained its radiance and her eyes twinkled with that same mischief that had stolen my heart in the first place.

She looked beautiful- breathtakingly beautiful- and my heart began thumping again. I was so taken by her presence that what seemed like two minutes, I hadn't noticed my letters in her hand. When she had taken them- I didn't know. Whether she had read them- I had no idea.

Silence.

Finally, she spoke.

"Here are 364 letters. Where's my last one Chocolate Boy?"

Oh how I'd missed that name in her voice. It had the ability to calm me down even in the worst of times- and it hadn't lost its power. My heart had stopped thumping- it beat peacefully- in a rather rhythmic tone that set out music in its impulses. I smiled.

I handed her my incomplete letter and she took it gracefully, laughed like a child and looked at me again with those mischievous eyes.

I could hear the countdown in the background.

10, 9, 8...

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

I knew she loved me.

...5, 4...

I took her hand.

The twinkling stars above, the green grass beneath- and we- in the middle.

...2, 1- Happy New Year!!!