Nostalgic

Hmm…it’s mid of January and typical Delhi winters are going on. People have come out of their dens to warm up this chilly evening. I can see a bonfire from my window. People seem to be merry. Some are dancing around the bonfire, some are singing traditional Punjabi songs while a few couples are sitting behind, holding hands; so much lost in their own world that they are hardly taking part in the chatting session that has just begun.

Aha…it’s not a usual day….its Lohri.

I’m upstairs and mine is the only room in the 9-storeied building that’s incandescent in the otherwise bonfire-lit evening. Perhaps, I’m the only one who’s not present at Lohri get-together. Someone just looked at me from there. Err…I put down the curtains, switch off the incandescent tube.

1…2….3….4…..5…I take out 5 amorous, aromatic candles and light them one by one. I turn on the juke box.

Everything I do……
If you had my love
I’m keeping you forever and for always….


Followed by-
I just died in your arms tonight….
My heart will go on…
Here without you….

It’s getting hotter here and something’s happening to me now. All of a sudden, I’m feeling so cozy, so romantic and so very nostalgic. 5…10…15 minutes pass by. My eyes become wet. I rub them with my fingers. What’s going on? I guess, I’m missing someone/something badly. My heart knows what it could be-maybe someone’s presence if not ‘company’. He’d said ours was never meant to be. I believe him(with a heavy heart though).

I take the earphones out of my ears, thrash down the bloody juke box against the cold floor. I blow out the candles. I can’t take it anymore. I go downstairs where others are, with an intention of distracting myself. Even there, my eyes are meeting the eyes of those couples at the back. I am just about to cry. Yay! Its 12 o’clock. People have called off.

Everyone retires to their respective flats. I also come upstairs, wearing an artificial smile. Straight-away, I slip into my blanket in the hope that sleep would come to my rescue. 10 minutes….30 minutes…2 hours. I can’t sleep. Tears start erupting out. I cry till my pillow is all wet, till I am all whacked.

Tomorrow again, I’ll kick this misery out of my mind, succumbing to Delhi’s busyness.

Pr@GnY@