VALENTINE YEARNING..

"Heart knows no barriers of caste, creed, religion or region. It is a precious gift of God, a divine jewel full of love, devotion and desire. Heart has enriched us with its achievements as it transcends the domain of reasons when it moves under the influence of its powers ".

You remember the first time we met? It was a cold Saturday morning in February. You were at the bus stop waiting for red bus that passed through our colony every day. It was a usual morning for me and I was on my way to get some milk from a nearby farm. And while I was passing by, I didn’t quite notice something. Your eyes were focussed upon my face. Fortuitously, mine had caught the glance of yours, the vibes synchronised and melodies of heart had started ringing euphonious "Love-at-first-sight" bells in our minds. The seedling of ‘Love’ was planted.

I remember you arguing in favor of Chinese food me insisting on Indian Mughlai.We eventually ate both, with you insisting on paying the bill. Well, you wanted o prove yourself " A gentleman of the first order ". You were extremely shy. And so was I. And in those blissful moments, we’d sit in my balcony, overlooking a lake. Watching the winter sun transcend through the lazy clouds and embrace the golden twilight was indeed a beautiful sight.

I still remember the similar frowns on our parents’ faces on seeing us together. As you sat in the rear seat of the taxi, I could see those enchanting eyes peering across the diffidence of youth. The gentle whispers of ‘love’ caressing adolescent iconoclasm. And the destiny played its game. I called you up the next day only to be told that you had left for America. Your father wanted you to persue your further studies over there.

I have so often re-lived those unforgettable moments by strolling along the same bylanes where our love bloomed. I have, since then, relished Chinese and Indian Mughlai but nothing is the same without you. The intoxication of your thoughts has totally enveloped me all over. It is February once again. The spirit of St. Valentine has returned, as always bringing with it the sweet fragrance of love, romance and passion in the air. And as I travel down the memory lane, the gentle breeze of your thoughts fills my heart with nostalgia. The memory of the elixir of your smile makes my heart race.

Nothing has been the same since you left. The winter sun still goes down. But it suddenly seems to have lost all its grandeur. Mornings today are also cool and beautiful. Yet, they lack that invisible, divine touch. Evenings come, but they too echo your feelings. " When all else is lost, the future still remains ". I still remember your words. And the night silently tiptoes on the heels of your dreams.

Wherever you are, I have written in to say that I still love you. Last year you never came but instead, you just sent a card with three words engraved in red rose petals: " Happy Valentine’s Day ".

I will be yearning to hear these words, this year too. But this time not through a card. Rather, I will be eagerly waiting to hear in your voice, those three magical words that seem to have become the very quintessence of my existence: "I Love You".