Non-erotic Dawn at Midnight By Pinuram - {Completed}

[usaiha2]

Just before the summer break in May, one night I gathered all my courage to call Suprotim Da to know about him. If he would have called him then they would have discussed about me.


I dialed the number and Ritika picked up.

First reaction of Ritika---“How are you doing? I heard that you are getting married?”

“No” I almost screamed, “Those were words of Babu only. Not mine.”

I pressed my phone to my ears, clutched the front fabric of my night gown, and asked her.

---“Has he called? Is there any news of him?”

Ritika paused for a second and then answered---“Yes he called few days ago. He was still in Israel.”

My heart experienced an intense thump. He has called so he was surely concerned about me.

My voice got choked as I asked her---“What did he say?”

I closed my eyes, bit my lower lips under my upper jaws, and stopped breathing.

---“He will contact you somehow. He will not be calling to your landline. If he calls next time I will give him your mobile number.”

My eyes got flooded as I heard her say that he has not lost his faith. My voice quivered, I expressed my humble gratitude to her.

She sensed that from my sobbing sounds---“Don’t cry, Paree. He did not believe a single word of your Babu. That was an agonizing reaction when he left India. Every person’s first reaction would be like that, Paree. Try to understand his feelings also. But he called only once after he left India, I don’t know when he will call again.”

I bit my lower lips and lay on the bed on my back. I pressed my phone on my lips and kissed.

---“I am very, very thankful to you.”

I wanted to know as where he was working so I asked---“What is he doing?”

She answered---“He is in IT industry. Currently he is working in a junior engineer post. The way he is devoting all his strength, he will surely climb up the ladder very fast.”

The vacuum went away from my heart. I smiled peacefully just by knowing that he was there standing alone with his open arms to greet me.

I was roaming inside Arcadia walking on a green path, surrounded by lots of flowers. The aroma of rose and dew drops were purifying the breeze around me. I could hear the sweet chirps of nightingales, bulbuls, Loras and waxwings around me. I saw a milky white unicorn trotting slowly towards me from the bend of the path ahead. I was dressed in a free flowing white silk robe with flowers on my head and wrist. My jade black long tress was flowing all along the path behind me. My bangles and necklace all were made up of flowers of white and red in colour. I could feel my huge translucent colourful wings flutter on my back.

I tried to fly, I tried to flutter my wings with all my strength, but there was some invisible force that bonded me with the green grass. I looked at my ankles; a green rope of grass was tied to my ankles. The unicorn was approaching me very slowly. I cried out to the Unicorn “Cut the grass rope. I want to fly with you.”

I woke up, I was sweating profusely. My bosoms were heaving. A huge torrential storm just passed inside my chest. I lost myself in the dream again, “What was that?”

I heard a knock on my door. ChotoMa’s frightened voice could be heard from the other end of the door---“SOHNA MA… what happened?”

I was panting very hard. I tried to catch breath and to answer her utter concerned query.

I opened the door; the soft light of dawn was flooding the drawing room.

I said her---“Nothing ChotoMa, just a bad dream.”

She rubbed my face, wiped my forehead with the loose end of her sari. Affectionate concerns were dripping from her sleepy eyes.

“I told you not to shut the door, Paree.” She sobbed out.

I came back to my bed. I thought of the dream. When I was able to decipher the underlying meaning of that dream, I sat there in sheer horror. I turned to a stone statue. Tears rolled down. I looked out of the window. The soft rays of dawn were dancing near my feet. Stone cold feet of the fairy who tried to fly but could not. I would never be able to know whether that Unicorn was able to free the fairy or not. I would never be able to know whether that fairy flew from Arcadia or remained there as an ivory effigy.

The ten ounce heart rolled; rolled over the plains, rolled over the mountains, rolled over by the bank of the rivers, rolled under those high pine and cedar trees.

Rolled over and over, so as to gather no moss.

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