Chowk.com
1,000 words
Pity
The wind soughed its way over the seas, rode the crests of waves, skimmed the sands of the beach to gently lift her tresses. It also seemed to lift their spirits. They giggled and guffawed, chuckled and chortled, their bodies shook and heaved with laughter.
To Dayakar, sitting on the sand fifteen yards behind them, the wind bore the sound of their mirth. But it was only when their laughter was strong and the breeze was not, could he actually listen to their merriment. Their gestures and profiles told him what he could not hear.
The girl was laughing easily and naturally, but the boy’s enjoyment seemed to depend on hers. The longer and heartier she laughed, so did he; when she eventually subsided, so did he.
Dayakar found it difficult to categorise his feelings. What was the emotion that was choking his heart now? Was it anger at the stupid play-acting they were indulging in? Or not something as strong as anger, but mere irritation? Or perhaps it was only simple amusement at their childish behaviour?
The boy, taken aback by the heartiness of her laughter; never had anyone listened to his jokes so closely. The girl of course, showering all her attention on him. And so he followed her laughter with his own, unsure of the route it would take, but extracting his enjoyment from hers. Dayakar could imagine lucidly as if he was there right with them. But he had been there in that place before. In the boy’s place. One year ago, two years… it didn’t matter now. But he had been there.
What was the boy saying now, that both were gazing at the horizon so intently? Yes, he could almost hear the boy:
Isn’t the sunset/sunrise, breeze/water, lovely/wonderful, refreshing/cool? And the seriousness with which she agreed that she found the glint of orange reflected in the water fascinating. Then they looked, or would look, at each other, eyes shining with the joyful belief of discovering their soulmates. All of a sudden, it became startlingly clear to Dayakar what he was feeling. He knew what was in his heart from the time he had been observing the couple. It was pity. Not anger, or irritation or bemusement, but simple uncomplicated pity. Pity at their innocence. Innocence, that had no chance of escaping from getting corrupted.
But for now, they thought— Oh God! To look at their faces now, suffused with delight, and their smug expressions, wrenched his heart. Their aglow faces, as they looked around, made it apparent that they had unearthed a long-buried treasure, and of which no one else was aware. They thought that what was happening to them was unique.
But it wasn’t special, Dayakar felt like shouting. A billion other people also had such unique experiences. On beaches, in parks, in cars, in rooms. Morning, noon and night. Everywhere, all the time.
He looked at them more closely. They were teenagers. Probably still in school, or just out of it. Maybe made excuses, told lies to come here. Dayakar wanted to walk over to them, and say: “Look, children.” But why did he feel so old that he wanted to call them children? He was hardly 4-5 years olden than them. Anyway, he would say: “Look children. How long do you think this is going to last? They lived happily ever after, happens only in fairy tales. What next?”
They wouldn’t be able to reply because they hadn’t thought of that. They would revel in each other for a few months, a year at the most. Then, what? Perhaps their families would be against them. Maybe they would fight the world. Perhaps he would betray her, or she him, or both. Maybe they would fight with themselves against that happening. All right, they battled against the odds and prevailed. How would they fight against time?
Time, that would inexorably chip away at their blinds, make them get used to and tired of each other. One morning, they would wake up and wonder what had happened. Soulmates? They would laugh cynically, having learnt the futility of beginning all over again.
But there was no use telling them now. They wouldn’t listen to him, even try to understand. They would laugh at his fears, his pity. It could happen to others, not to them, not to their special love. Their unique everlasting eternal love. They would march on the same trodden path, fighting their battles, winning and losing, until finally they would reach that morning when they would wake up and wonder what had happened. What a farce! Dayakar shook his head.
He watched the boy’s arm hover uncertainly behind her shoulder. “Go ahead,” he urged the boy telepathically. “Put your arm over her shoulder. She won’t mind. She’s waiting for you to do it, she’s only pretending to look hard at the sea. But before you do it, just know one thing. After this, you are never going to feel so innocently happy again. This will be the watershed in your life. Your happiest moment ever, do you understand? Not your child, not your job, not even she can bring that moment again. When you wake up that morning and wonder, you will mark your downfall from this point. So remember the time, the place, everything, carefully. You will recall it again and again. I know.”
At last, the boy’s arm fell clumsily over her shoulder, and not evoking a rebuff, settled itself comfortably and assuredly. Dayakar could not bear the painful pressure in his chest anymore. He suddenly felt old, very old and weary. He got to his feet, shook the sand off his trousers and walked away.
*
“Hey, honey?”
“Yes?”
“Did you notice the man behind us who was watching us all the time? He’s going away finally.”
“Yes. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to see our happiness anymore!”
“Oh! You mean he was jealous of us?”
“Of course. Anyone would be. Do you think anyone could be as happy as we are? No way.”
“That’s true. Poor guy. I wish he could be happy like us.”