Part 31
Shyam Manohar Jha
phool khilte hain, log milte hain magar
patjhad main jo phool murjha jate hain
woh baharon ke aane se khilte nahin
kuchh log ek roz jo bichad jate hain
woh hazaron ke aane se milte nahin
umr bhar chahe koi pukara kare unka naam
woh phir nahin aate, woh phir nahin aate
~ From the movie Aap ki Kasam
"This
is great news! Thank you. Please fax me the address and Rakesh Singh's original picture and details. Ill leave for their house right away", said Akash, excitement creeping into his voice
as he hung up the phone and turned around to clasp Payal by her arms, hope
surging in his face.
"Payal we got the
creep. The guys at the Detective agency just called to say that they have dug
up all details on the real Rakesh Singh and his photo which obviously does not
match the sketch that Ajay made of Shyam in disguise. That's
enough to prove to Mr. Ranjeet Singh that Shyam is a bloody fraud. One down, and then we can go on with
accumulating other proofs. How I wish
that Anjali di had not destroyed in her fit of emotion, the Video CDs that
contained evidence of Shyam scattering shards of glass in her room that caused
her to slip and lose her baby. Anyway, I
gotta go. You be careful. Maa and Papa will accompany me."
"Ofcourse. You take care and--- come back soon." said
Payal hugging him, trying to keep concern from shadowing her eyes as she looked
back at him with a smile.
"Don't worry,
Ill be back. But by then bhai, di and
the rest would be back in Delhi. Just
think, at last we will have some positive news for them. When Dhruv gets back from his morning Jog,
ask him to pick them up from the airport." Akash instructed, rushing out to
find his parents and head over to Colonel Ranjeet Singh's house to unmask Shyam
in his very lair.
************
"Here
you go Chachaji, your ginger tea and today's edition of The Times of
India. And chachiji, your cardamom
flavored tea, just the way you prefer", said Shyam aka Rakesh, handing
his uncle and aunt steaming hot cups of tea and settled into the wicker
chair next to them with a genial smile on his face.
Ranjeet Singh smiled back in pure
pleasure. He was besotted with his long
lost nephew who had turned out to be a wonderful human being, despite having
been kidnapped at the age of twelve and having had to grow up alone in this big
bad world. His eyes misted at the
thought of how he brought happiness into their world in their old age when they
had resigned themselves to a life of loneliness since they had no progeny of
their own.
Rakesh
was regaling them with news from his workplace and they chatted just like any
normal family when their banter was interrupted by the doorbell. Jassiji, Rakesh's chachi rose from her chair
motioning Rakesh to settle back and that she would get the door.
"Who could it be at this early hour?" wondered Chachaji looking at Rakesh who pursed his lips and shook his
head.
Suddenly he froze as he recognized
the visitors that were being ushered in. "So, they did end up showing up
here! " he thought, rising from his chair.
"I
am afraid you do not know us, but that man over there, now he knows us very
well indeed." began Akash, his eyes burning with barely leashed fury as they
alighted on Shyam.
"Hello, Hai,
Bye-bye. Your game eej up. Understands?" Chanted maamiji striding
forward to stand next to her son.
"What
is the meaning of all this? Who are you?" Questioned a perplexed Ranjeet Singh
looking from his wife's ashen face to his nephew's panic-stricken one. Rakesh looked like he had seen a ghost.
"What
will he say? Whatever needs to be said,
will be said by me. Namaste, I am
Manohar Singh Raizada, and with me are my wife and son. The man who is standing over there under the
garb of your nephew Rakesh, is an imposter.
He is Shyam Manohar Jha who was once upon a time our son-in-law. I am
sorry that I am compelled to break this news to you in this manner, but I have
no other option. You see the Real Rakesh
Singh, your Nephew was killed in an accident eight months back." Stated Mamaji laying an arm on Ranjeet
Singh's shoulder as he uttered the last part, as if to offer solace.
Akash
held out the picture of the real Rakesh Singh for them to behold and handed the
information from the detective agency that filled them in, on all of his
details including his death report that was signed by the doctor at the
Government Hospital in Vadodara, where they had rushed the young man post his
accident on National Highway 1, enroute to Delhi.
The report also listed that two of the
passengers, Shyam Manohar Jha and another man by name Harish Gupta had brought
him in for treatment and were the last persons to see him alive.
Ranjeet
singh peeled off his glasses and with tears streaming down his face lifted his
gaze towards Shyam, "Why? Why did you do
this? Is this true? Are you not our Rakesh?" he asked in a thin,
strained voice barely above a whisper while his wife collapsed in the seat
nearby shaking in grief and disbelief.
Akash's heart went out to the poor man and his wife. Their world had
come crashing around their ears in an instant and they were shaken to the core
at the thought that someone could have betrayed their trust thus.
"Yes sir.
Its true. I am not your nephew
Rakesh. I am Shyam Manohar Jha, a Lawyer
by profession. And I will tell you the
true story of why I am here." Said Shyam, peeling off his fake glasses, even as the Raizadas looked on with their mouth
open, stunned at his admittance and astonished at the gall of this man, who was
trying to talk his way out of this situation despite the strong evidence that
was staring in his face.
"I know these
people very well. Their minds are
poisoned against me and they will poison your heart and mind against me as well. Therefore, to prove to you that what I am
about to say is indeed the truth, I am about to invite another person to join
us here, a person who was with me when Rakesh----" he trailed his words and
pretending to wipe his tears, Shyam turned away, whipping his cell out to call
Harish Gupta.
Akash,
mamaji and mamiji looked at each other trying to fathom what Shyam was up to
now. "How
the hell is he going to get out of this?
No way! Or could he?" wondered Akash silently as he settled in the couch between his parents and
looked on at the Singhs sitting across from them holding each other's hands as
they waited, their faces reflecting a mixture of grief, pain of betrayal, and
amidst all that a faint hope that Shyam was not the fraud that the evidence
seemed to indicate.
About
an hour later, a crest fallen Akash, Manohar and Manorama, boarded their
SUV.
"What has the world come to? Hello, Hai, Bye-bye, This Shyaam is none
other than Ravan incarnate." Wept Manorama, leaning her head on her husband's
shoulder.
Mamaji pressed his lips
together as he patted his wife's shoulder and shook his head in misery while
Akash leaned back in the passenger seat in the front, closing his eyes with a
sigh, wondering at the incredible turn of events when he was so sure that they
finally had him pinned down; "Its
unbelievable, how this man had yet again escaped scott free. If he would only put his amazing gift of
influence and persuasion to good use.
Anyway, I have to break this news to bhai."
************
Shyam gently closed the
door to his room and looked through the window as the white SUV sped away. His face twitched with an ugly sneer. Implicating
Shyam manohar Jha is not a child's play.
It's indeed my good fortune that Rakesh had all those months ago
insisted on shoving the blank paper with his signature on it in my pocket he
mused as he recollected the past and congratulated himself on his foresight
then and his brilliant ability to connect the dots later. It had come to his rescue enabling him to
move his pieces on the chess board to his advantage the day he had seen Mamaji
step out of the Detective agency on M.G.Road right after Kamlaji's true motive
had been exposed.
Eight
months back, on an extremely ordinary day, they were chatting and sharing a
meal at the roadside Dhaba; two passengers bound for the same destination. Rakesh was a jolly and loquacious man and as
gullible as they come. He had in his
happiness at having tracked down his kith and kin after nearly two decades, was
even more talkative as he narrated his entire life history to Shyam and another
co-passenger Harish. Shyam had responded
with suitable expressions and verbal acknowledgement.
He had noticed that Rakesh had a queer habit
of signing his name on any blank piece of paper. He had during the course of narrating his
story done that on one of the blank papers that was lying around. When asked about it, he had laughed off the
matter saying, "So what? Its not like I
have a truck load of money or landed property that some one would use this
paper and signature to swindle from me.
Here I am going to give this to you, lets see if it is of any use to
you?" he had said, tucking the paper in Shyam's pocket. Minutes after that, fate had turned tables,
which had once again proved to be in his favor.
Rakesh had rushed across the freeway to push
a toddler who had strayed from the dhaba on to the freeway to safety; but had
gotten hit by the speeding lorry. They
had rushed him to the hospital in Vadodara where he was pronounced dead on
arrival. And that was when Shyam had
stepped into his shoes and reached the Singh's house from where he had started
his mission of getting back into the Raizadas and his Raani Sahibas life.
When
Shyam had quite by chance spotted mamaji stepping out of the detective agency
the day after Kamlaji had barely escaped from Shantivan, his senses had gone on
high alert. He had bribed the office boy
at the agency to sneak him bits and pieces of information under the pretext of
gathering news about the Raizadas for the gossip column. He had promised to mention the boy's name in
good light in the paper, and the kid was sold on the idea.
When Shyam heard that they had traced his old
foster parents and that the Raizadas were headed to Varanasi, he had beaten
them to it yet again. Having arrived
there ahead of them, he had convinced Murli Manohar Jha and Sita Devi of how he
had relentlessly looked for them over the past decade and had taken them back
to their house in Lucknow. The old
couple had in an instant forgotten all the hardship they had faced. They were delighted that their belief in
their son had not gone in vain and had not only happily accompanied him back to
Lucknow, but had defended him with fervor when Mama and maami had tried to sway
them in their favor in Lucknow just a week back.
He had
known the instant Akash had the details on Rakesh that morning, thanks to his
trusted little informer. Shyam had
quickly typed out a message on the blank paper that had Rakesh's signature on it, as if it was Rakesh's last wish on his deathbed, that Shyam take his place as
Rakesh Singh and take care of his uncle and aunt, forbidding him to reveal the
truth about his death or Shyam's true identiy to them. He had called his hench-man from the past,
Rana to arrive at the Singhs' residence to pose as Harish Gupta and vouch for
the authenticity of the story and the letter.
The Singhs who were looking for even a faintest excuse that would
assure them they had not been fooled, had lapped up the story and were now, even
more than before, besotted with him and his noble act. The crest fallen look on the Raizadas' face
was sweet revenge.
Shyam
turned around away from the windows and picked up the newspaper where he had
circled the column reporting Ajay Singh Rathod's exclusive Painting Exhibit
preview - Admission by invitation only.
His face twisted into an eerie smile as he said out aloud, "Raani
Sahiba, at last I am free to pursue you.
Ill see you my dear at Ajay Singh Rathod's Mansion tomorrow." He had
lost Khushi, and had come to terms with it since she had not been his in the
first place, not quite the same way that Raani Sahiba was. He would be dammed if he let that Rathod
steal what had once been his, and that which he considered as still being his. He swore as he headed to shave his beard off
and trim his hair.
It was time to bid
good-bye to Rakesh Singh and rise again as Shyam Manohar Jha.
************
The
day had dawned bright and early and had zipped past rather fast as the Raizadas
and Radhika, Nitin and Rathod went about catching up on latest developments
that Akash had filled them in on, and later busied themselves with preparations
for the Exhibit that evening.
It was
going to be an exclusive black-tie affair, with elegant ambience, classical
music, choice hors doeuvre and aged wine served in expensive crystal; Radhika
had explained which appealed immensely to Arnav's sensibilities. It was Rathod's comeback after six years and
also an opportunity to show off his new residence in the capital city.
Anjali,
Ajay, Arnav, Khushi, Radhika and Nitin had flown over to Delhi the previous
day. Naaniji had elected to stay back in
Jaipur with Viren Chacha and Tashi who had her exams at school and could not
accompany them to Delhi.
Anjali was
distressed when she had heard Akash recounting their failed attempt at
unmasking Shyam the previous day, but Ajay had in his characteristic way
managed to distract her and cheer her up.
But now, in the solitude of her room, as she slipped on her bangles and
looked at her reflection in the mirror, a growing sense of dread churned in the
pit of her stomach. If there was one
thing she was sure of, it was that they had not heard the last of Shyam. She had an unsettling feeling that there was
a storm looming in the horizon, and she silently prayed for strength to survive
it when it hit.
**********
Silk
and satin shimmered, the air rang with tinkling laughter and intellectual conversation
as the finer nuances of the art and the artists style was discussed. Several of Rathods friends who had not met
him in a while now, were overjoyed to meet him.
Arnav, Akash and NK along with Khushi, Payal and Maya oohed and aahed at
the paintings.
Anjali smiled and began
to relax as the evening slipped into night and nothing unusual had occurred
thus far. She chatted with Nitin, while
her eyes followed Rathod as he mingled with the guests.
Ajay had thrown the preview open with a
welcome note in which he had described Anjali as his muse, much to her surprise
and delight; He had then unveiled the first Portrait that he declared had
started his series after a moratorium of six years. It was titled, 'A Daughter', and was one of
Anjali holding a silver Pooja thal in
her hand praying at the shiv mandir at Malhar.
She was bathed in the rays of the setting Rajasthani Sun that added an
angelic quality to her earnest expression as she had prayed with her eyes closed,
while the family was thrown in a dark silhouette in the back ground.
"The play of light and shadow is amazing, and
Jijaji has captured your essence perfectly di", Arnav had said as he put his bid
on the painting.
"I want this one", Akash
said striking claim to the one titled 'A Sister' and had Anjali seated on a swing
veiled by a thin curtain of falling rain making Rakhis, her eyes dreamy and her
lips stretched in a smile.
There was yet
another of Anjali titled, 'A Mother' that had her and Tashi lying on grass
engrossed in sketching Tintin the squirrel.
"I had no idea that Ajay had captured these moments in his sketches and
painted us. How did he manage it with
out me ever noticing him?" exclaimed an astonished Anjali, wondering how she
could have been so lost in herself.
"What
is this?" demanded NK, pointing to the next one in the Anjali series that was still
wrapped and had a note on it that indicated it was sold.
"That NK is sold and is part of a private
collection", came Ajay's response as the family whirled around. "Actually, this was never meant to be part of
this exhibit, but the movers had set it up by mistake, so I had it covered up", he said leading them towards the rest of his painting series collectively titled, 'The Faces of Rajasthan' in which he had captured brilliantly, the life and people of his land.
The
evening was a roaring success. The
guests had left and it was just family members who lingered.
"I had no idea that hosting a painting
exhibition entailed such a lot of work." said Khushi sitting cross-legged on
the couch in the downstairs living room, next to her Arnavji who stroked her
back.
NK laughed collapsing next to Maya
while Akash kissed the cheek of a sleeping Aanya in his mom's lap. Manorama and Manohar had been markedly quiet
ever since their disappointing encounter with Shyam.
Just as Anjali and Rathod were about to say
something, they heard Radhika's voice float through from the loft area on the
first floor where they had staged the paintings, "I am sorry sir, but the
preview has ended, If you would like to bid for any of these remaining
paintings, you can contact our agent for
a private appointment. I am afraid that
right now, I have to ask you to leave."
"What
the! Someone has stayed behind?" exclaimed Arnav standing up even as Radhika's voice increased in pitch and rang
with agitation, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
This is a private collection, You cannot tear open the wrapper in this
manner." Nitin raced up the stairs
followed by Rathod and the rest.
"You
know what? You are absolutely right. Indeed it should be private collection. MY PRIVATE COLLECTION. Do you understand?" Came the rejoinder in a calm and barely controlled
voice.
Anjali felt her palms turn clammy
and she grasped Khushi's arm, as Radhika stepped aside to reveal the speaker; a
man in a black tuxedo, a man that she had dreaded she would run into tonight,
Shyam Manohar Jha. He held in his hand,
remnants of the brown wrapping paper that he had just torn off the last of the
Anjali series titled, 'A Woman in Love' and showed an Anjali burning up with love, drenched to the bone in
pouring rains. It was obvious to
everyone, that the artist was in love with the woman, in the way he had captured
the moment and her emotion.
Anjali paled
while Arnav strode forward to clutch Shyam by the lapels of his coat and pin
him against the wall. He ground out
through clenched teeth, "How dare you? How
dare you show up here uninvited and bring up my sister's name on your filthy
lips?"
"Arnav, You forget that she is not just
your sister, but also my ----" started
Shyam but was swiftly cutoff by a searing blow to his cheek from Arnav's
fist.
With a mighty shove, Shyam pushed
him away and trained his eyes on Anjali and Rathod. "Raani Sahiba, Arnav has no regard for our
culture and tradition. But you, You celebrate our culture and are held as a
role model, one who imbibes our tradition and you should be aware of what name
is given to a woman who stands thus, allowing a man other than her husband to
feast his eyes on such a vision."
"Stop that!
thundered Ajay as he caught Shyam with a clean left hook on his chin,
his face murderous with rage. Don't you
dare speak of my fiance in such terms!" he warned.
Shyam
threw his head back and laughed while the family looked on puzzled.
"It seems that at long last he has gone nuts,
Hello, Hai, Bye-bye", muttered Maamiji in her husband's ear.
Shyam spun around, gingerly wiping the blood
off his cut lip, his eyes blood shot and his face menacing as he began in a low
voice "Fiance, my foot! Raani Sahiba is my wife." He took a step forward, towards her as he
looked straight at Ajay and thundered, "SHE IS MY LEGALLY WEDDED WIFE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Ajay
was thunderstruck. He staggered as he
turned to look at Arnav and Anjali with a stunned expression. His gut clenched in pain and his head
throbbed as his mind registered the full significance of Shyam's words.
Anjali felt the world tilt on its axis and
she fell into an endless pit as the light left her vision and her body
collapsed in a heap.
When
she came to herself, she found herself in a strange bed. It took her a minute to realize that she was
in one of the bedrooms in Rathod's new mansion and in its wake came the
recollection of everything that had occurred prior to her black out.
"Chotte, Ajay." She whispered, hastening to
stand up and drag her feet in the direction of the living room from where she
could hear voices float through.
As
she drew nearer, she could hear Arnav's frustrated voice from the hall way, I
can't believe that we collectively could be so forgetful. We sent him the papers but never pressed it
through to completion", swore Arnav.
"Bhai relax. We are left with no
other option but to negotiate. Let us
find out what he wants", came Akash's voice of reason.
"Nannav, Akash, Di----" called out NK, signalling with his eyes towards an approaching Anjali; and the two men rushed
to her side to help her.
"Di, you don't
need to be here. We will take care of
everything", urged Arnav, his face
stricken.
"No, Chotte, This matter
concerns me and involves me. I need to
face it or Ill never be able to face myself and would have to spend my entire
life running away", stated Anjali in a resolute tone, as she clutched his hand
for support and dragged her feet onward.
Shyam
bristled as he saw Anjali's eyes seek Rathod's the minute she entered the room,
her glance silently enquiring how he was and Rathod's answering gaze of
reassurance.
"Raani Sahiba, are you OK?
Shyam enquired stepping forward. Trust
me. I had no intention of hurting
you. It was the farthest thing in my
mind. I want you to know that I care for
you and love you deeply."
"Shyamji, I
want a divorce, What do you want?" said Anjali cutting to the chase, causing the
family to gasp in surprise.
Shyam
flinched visibly. His Raani Sahiba has indeed changed more than he had expected. Nevertheless, he would persist. The sight of the painting had broken a dam
within him, releasing hitherto unknown feelings. Nothing mattered at this moment, neither the
money that he had planned on demanding from Arnav in the past nor the revenge
he had thirsted for. All that mattered
was that he did not lose what had belonged to him, Raani Sahiba. True he had never know the value of what it
meant to have her when he did, but now he would do anything to prevent her from
becoming another's. Heck he did not know
what he was doing anymore, but couldn't seem to be able to stop himself. He could not bear the thought of having her
look at another man they way she just had at Rathod.
It killed him that Rathod had set his eyes on
her the way she was when he had painted her.
His veins were at bursting point with the force with which his blood was
pounding in them at the thought that he might have touched her. "No, No!
Think Shyam, think. Ask for time,
You need time, time alone with her away from this maddening crowd to change her
mind."
He whipped his head up and looking straight at
her said, "You want a divorce? You want
me to sign those papers? I will, if you accept my conditions."
Anjali merely
responded with a terse, "State them. "
There was a deafening silence in the room as all eyes trained on Anjali
and Shyam.
"I want you to leave with me
right now, the way you are with merely the clothes on your back. You have to live with me for a full year, away
from all of these people as my wife in every sense of the word. If you do, then at the end of a year from
today, Ill sign the divorce papers. Tell
me? Do you accept my conditions?"
"What
the F***K! Di, you dont need to accept
any conditions." Exclaimed Arnav, stepping closer to Anjali.
"Anjali, you don't have to do anything, its
ok, we will fight it out in court seconded Ajay.
"Fine by me.
Lets just do that. This can keep
us all well entertained for years to come as our legal system drags the matter
through. You should know, since you are
a fellow lawyer like me." Sneered Shyam looking at Ajay and turning his gaze at
Arnav continued, "As for you Saale-saab,
do these terms sound too familiar for comfort?"
"Raani
Sahiba, the decision is yours.
Guaranteed divorce at the end of a year of living with me as my wife or
indeterminate number of years in limbo as we fight through the court for
divorce", and Shyam stood before her looking straight into Anjali's eyes. "She
would give in, she had to. He had no
idea what he would if she didn't", he chanted mentally as he waited for her
answer.
A heavy
silence settled once again in the room as the family members waited with bated
breath for Anjali's response. Anjali
stood staring into the face of the man she had been married to for three years,
the man who had saved her from a fall on their very first meeting, the one she
had loved and adored unconditionally, the one who broke her heart and
threatened her chotte, the one who murdered her child; and then she spoke, her
voice steady and low, "Shyamji, the decision has always been mine and so will
it be even now. I have always held
emotional bonds in greater regard than one ordained by a piece of legal
paper. It was this belief that prompted
me to meet you in secret behind my
chotte's back, for I believed you loved me as much I did. It was this belief that prompted me to let you
in stealthily, betraying the trust of my entire family and ignore all the
tell-tale signs that you were straying.
I even risked an innocent woman's reputation because I was desperate to
not have my belief in you and your love for me broken. All I got in return from you was treachery,
lies and betrayal. You broke my heart ,
my trust and my self-esteem, you threatened my chotte and murdered my unborn
child. Do you still labor under the
delusion that by withholding a piece of paper that legally dissolves our
marriage, you will stop me from forging a relationship with Ajay? Then, hear me loud and clear. I love Ajay and have in my mind accepted him
as my husband. I have no need for
acceptance from you or your society, nor do I need the bonds of marriage to
bind myself to him. As for the name that
is attributed to me in such a relationship, I want you to know, that I no
longer care. I would rather be Ajay's
mistress than endure a false life as your wife.
You can do as you please with the divorce papers, I for one no longer
need them."
Anjali paused and held Shyam's gaze for another
minute and then turned around to lean on Ajay, wrapping her arms around his
neck with a look of pure love in her eyes.
Ajay let out the breath he had been holding for the past minute with a
whoosh and buried his lips in her hair, tightening his arms around her waist.
Shyam's
shoulders slumped as all the fight left his system. He turned around without a single word and
left the mansion. His Raani Sahiba was lost forever and he had the rest of his life to
nurse the gaping hole in his chest. She
had destroyed him and left him bleeding with that single glance full of love
that she had bestowed on Ajay. The love
that used to shine through when she had rested her eyes on him in the past, was
non-existent when she had looked at him today.
Shyam Manohar Jha had lost the biggest catch of his life. What the entire world could not do, what the shrewd
Arnav Singh Raizada could not do, she had done in one swift move. She had vanquished Shyam Manohar Jha as the
world had known him thus far. He
paused at the threshold to look at her one last time and then disappeared into
the night.
************
Ajay
carefully tucked the blanket around a sleeping Anjali and stepped outside,
softly closing the door behind him. He
strolled over to where Akash, Arnav and NK were waiting for him.
It was nearly dawn but they could not bring
themselves to fall asleep. The climactic
ending was still replaying in all their minds.
No one had ever seen Anjali in this light ever, in their entire
lives. He had to admit, he was blown away.
He had in that moment, fallen in love with her all over again.
Ajay smiled gratefully at Arnav accepting
the glass of scotch that he held out.
Liquor was banned in RM, but thank God he had no such rules in his
mansion. He downed the drink in one gulp
and looked up at the grinning faces of his soon to be saale-saabs with an
answering grin of his own.
Finally, the
beast was slain and they could look forward to the future.
************
Early
morning rays streamed through the glass and fell on a lone man in a cream
colored T-shirt and denim who had been sitting motionless, leaning against the
stone faceted wall of the Delhi airport for the past three hours. Finally, He had looked up as he heard the
announcement on the microphone. It was
not the announcement for his flight, he
had another hour at least he judged glancing at his watch with a sigh. "In
another couple of hours they would notice the papers", he mused.
He had stopped to drop the signed divorce
papers in Shantivan's mailbox on his way to the airport a little past one am
that morning. He had no idea where he
was going, a recurring theme recently in his life. Shyam Manohar Jha did not have a plan
or an agenda. All he knew was he had to
get away, far, far away; but how could he run away from his thoughts and
feelings? From memories and an inconvenient little thing called conscience that
had awakened in his breast last night when he had, in the moment he had lost her, realized that he had in fact been in love with his wife all his life, and would
now live with the knowledge that she belonged to another.
He glanced at a group of twenty-something youngsters
squatting on the floor attempting to set music to the verses of Pablo Neruda
while they waited for their boarding call; and his lips twitched in a sad semblance
of a smile as the verses floated to his ears, "Neither would they know nor would Neruda himself have known when he wrote it,
that these words would be the most accurate description of his state of mind at
the moment."
My heart searches for her, and she is not with
me.
The same night that whitens the trees.
We, of then, are no longer the same.
Another's, she will be another's. As before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, its true, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my
arms,
My soul is not at peace with having lost her.
Though this may be the final sorrow she causes me,
And these the last verses I write for her
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