Witch

People say, I am mad.
Some say, I am a witch.
I know everything about the rumors.
But I don’t care.
The town is burning with tales.
Some are spitting, while taking my name.
I don’t care.
I know, you hate me for this.
You want to sympathize with me. But you, yes, you are also scared to look into my pale eyes.
After all, myths were learnt before science.
And you are no exception.
Actually, that’s okay.
Call me a witch, call me mad. It doesn’t matter.
I just want you to learn this.
How can a rumor make sense, when I’m all flooded within, by that man’s love?
You never knew him. That man. Arindam.
He was the lava, that shone through my eyes.
He-My first love.
Me- His strong roots.
We could do anything together. Like anything.
We were a river.
5 years back.
I met him.
In front of the college gate.
He had that face of a poet.
Disconnected from earthly things.
I fell in love, just like that.
I could breathe him in.
He was the banyan tree and I, the creeper.
He would weave poems, I would carve emotions.
Together, we were that strong.
Can you feel it?

We could kiss the sun.

We could bring the moon.
His eyes could stop the wind within me.
You must know , he never proposed me.
Yet, we could live ages without a promise.
We were lovers.
We did everything, a couple does.
Danced in the rain.
Laughed through the flowers.
kissed in the moonlight.
Cuddled by that riverside.
We were lovers.
It feels as if it happened yesterday night.
Arindam, dressed in white Kurta.
Me, watching through the curtains.
My fingers jittering.
Stern lines slowly vanishing from Dad’s face.
Two families citing words of union.
I knew it.
We could survive eras without a promise.
We could never be torn apart.
Can you feel that? The feeling, when love is sworn in front of Fire?
Do you feel that, overwhelming happiness waiting on your eyes? Can you sense those butterflies kissing on your neck?
My eyes, kohl-lined.
My hairs, scented.
My soul, embracing rituals.
I could have waited whole my life.
After all, Arindam was coming. The King of my kingdom.
I could hear my parents murmuring.
Neighbors gossiping.
I could ignore them anyways.
After all, he belonged to an another town.
What was the big deal if he was getting late?
Yeah, I don’t deny, my heart little bit trembled.
After all, they were doubting my man.
I waited, eagerly, to shut everyone’s mouth.
After all, it was Arindam.
Can a tree cut its’ roots?
Late that night, my Mom told me to change the dress.
They forcibly removed my necklace.
I could fight them back. I had the strength.
I knew, lovers never cheat.
Around that corner, I could hear people discussing death of someone.
Someone met an accident.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask them to shut up.
But I didn’t.
I waited.
Arindam was going to wake me up through all these.
We would walk through the new dawn.
He didn’t show up.
The morning rays came in.
Even the next morning.
One month .
Four months.
I am still waiting.
He was a man of words.
Didn’t I tell you, he weaves poem?
May be, he is writing his best piece of poetry for his woman.
I have learnt it through years.
We need no promises.
So, stop asking me questions. Stop telling that those pale eyes disturb you.
You have to trust me.
You have to learn to love.
This is nothing.
Eyes will sparkle, with his gentle knock.
And when the world will go to sleep, he will show up.
And you will regret, for the world will lose one witch forever.
Arundhati Devi | Edited by Ghazal

 

 


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