Today I want to formulate my feelings into words but my heart betrays me. I cannot compose, construct or create the canvas of my consciousness. I break down into a sensibility of nonsense. My fingers are numb, my eyes moist with warm tears and my essence anesthetized.
Does he love me? No he does not. But I believe, or rather I think...no...I feel...maybe...maybe not...I trust...I hope...Oh! Help me! I have lost faith in myself, in him I haven't. This fragmented, frozen and frigid faith is a fire that flares fanatically and will last within me forever. What is this? I ask why? Nobody answers. Noisy noiselessness and a chasm of caliginosity make me purblind perpetually.
He looks at me and asks me to smile. I smile faintly focusing only on the camera, trying to escape his gaze. He clicks…once, twice, thrice… my heart feels fraught with feelings unknown. My eyes heavy with insomnia blink insignificantly. My face betrays my emotions. The camera captures those unseen, unobserved emotions. He paints me into life through the pictures he takes yet I feel forlorn. How much I love him even I cannot say. How much he loves me, I am totally unaware of. He knows everything. I know everything yet we are together. He knows I love him truly. He loads the photographs on his computer and smiles as he holds my hand. I hug him tightly and cry over his shoulder. He runs his fingers through my hair and caresses me gently. He holds me by the shoulders and looks at my face smothered with tears. I look at him, his eyes enigmatic and full of questions. I fail to understand him yet again! Shadows overshadow my thoughts as I close my eyes. The saturation freezes into stubborn sorrow. I ask him, “Do I have to leave now?” He turns away and says nothing. He sits down and shows me my photographs. I scan through them and appreciate his ability to transform me completely. He kisses me on my forehead. I ask him, “Will you never love me… just because… we can never …” my voice breaks and I sob silently. He says nothing. I feel hurt and want to leave immediately. I get up and turn to go. I go towards the door; he holds me by my hand, stops me and says “Don’t go. Please.” We hug each other and cry silently in each other’s arms. I wish we could always be together.
Why is he a Muslim and me a Hindu? Why am I not some Shazia and he some Aditya? Why is the society so superficial? We all are the superficial symbols of a satisfied soul. Are we really satisfied? Are we happy? The society builds laws and ideals for everyone and discriminates one religion from another just because maybe I don’t wear a burkha and some other person does not worship idols. God is universal. I say Shiva is my God, because Jesus and Allah are your Gods, isn’t it? How is it possible? Only because cultures differ how one religion can be deemed as superior to another? This is an abyss of faithlessness and can lead only to misery and hatred. And we are the victims, the ones who love are looked upon as vermin; the one who create hatred are considered powerful and God-like. This is the society we are a part of… created by us as our utopia.
