The Lost Heart ….


The whitewashed walls seemed to merge with the ambience of the room , pure white clad people, white flowers … and pale white faces . the greenish blue water of the pond was calm …ripple free as if mourning the death. Paying the last tribute to someone who stood in its bank in the evening with  red tea sliced with lemon and watched its beauty with his deep intense eyes under that black thick frame . the setting sun filled the room with a silent glowing orange flame….bending low , bidding goodbye to Menon..my menon who loved drizzling rain ,private moments in  lonely parking lots , children and more children . he who had never know hypocrisy , hatred or evil . he who was born only to spread love , affection …he who was born only for me.

I stood there at one corner looking at his stiff body  in the middle of the room, surrounded by people and still seem to be guarded by his wife . She still wanted to be the only one by his side  even when My Menon  was so far away from everthing mortal. I did not dare to even take a step closer ,……..or  had I lost my power to walk . I held my writing pad closer to my chest ..hard enough to embed it into me. Took a deep breath to keep my tears within , looked up only to see the brown overcoat hanging  one of the adjacent room . it was my gift…he still had it , even after I left him all alone in this ruthless world, even when I got hell bent to destroy his life

I am rhea jasson  , a journalist with new york times, going to get my hard earned promotion of editor in  a week , covering my last story …the last journey  of Menon Sen .   A  garment magnet .(.or rather my  love).    Menon  loved three things on earth kids , me and power. He loved the limelight , he loved crazy windy afternoons when we used to have lots of work ….and equal amount of excuse for doing no work ….., bright moonlit nights when the sea swelled , swelling emotions within. Cold pouring evenings when eyes speak …and you close them only to make moments. He loved everthing about life and I used to be his life.

“ you write whatver you want to , I cant  stop,  I coudt never had, but honestly i was never involved in the women trafficking . these allegation have no meaning , I really hope Mrs Jason  I need not explain this to you” ….atleast “to you” ..those were the last words I heard when I met him on a familiar drizzing evening , under the shades of a coffee joint …with only love  missing then , there weren’t two lovers sitting ,   there was ego , , conflict and  power clash. “You have it rhea, if this is what you want go ahead with it , but I have a family back at home..there responsibility lie on me…. You want to avenge me right.!!!!!.go ahead! My wife is nowhere at fault” his eyes begged ..but the deep embedded hatred of mine overpowered the human inside me. I went ahead blinded by hatred …my articles , continous allegations  combined with print power demoted  and finaly overthrew Menon industry.

The heavy clouds had covered the sky , just as hatred had coverd me … we booth stood face to face again outside  high court in Bandra looking at each other , my eyes has the glint of a winner, while his had a smile at foolish deed. I knew I won , I had won my long lost prestige , my pain was healed , which he inflicted on me the night when he walked out of the aisle refusing marriage to me. Reasoning his love for some other women , denying all the cherished moments of my long preserved relationship…proving my faith, my belief my existence false . it took me years to come back, I regained myself only to destroy him ..uproot him wherever he plans to make a mark. I fought my way , left medicine..went into journalism as print media had the power to do justice to me. In the process I fell in love again ..got married …had kids, but my hatred was still the same. He got married to slum born rape victim, gave her the statues , the position which was all mine . I never hated only laughed …and thank almighty for saving me from such a crazy person.

I was intoxicated in the pleasure of victory until yesterday , when my husband told me that Menon sen  had  malignant tumor and cancer had his life. The world came crashing down , the gigantic gigsaw puzzle got solved .flashbacks, words everthing came and went past me , shattering the successful journalist who had just won a war . Menon loved me..loved me more than himself and that was the reason why he left me. I stood dumstruck with a feeling of disgust running through my viens.

And today I am standing , watching my love die defeated in my own  hands in a fragile form . Menon you know me right!! I did this only because I loved you so much ..only because I could never let anyone else have you ..but Menon was nowhere near me to hear me. I looked up and my eyes met those of his wife. I saw a strange deep rooted anger in her eyes ..as if the world know  I was responsible for the death of Mr. Menon Sen.

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About Asarkr

A decisive soul| passionate writer| Statistics and Maths geek| Loves Chicago| Toastmasters| Data maniac| Marketing Person| TEDx | Permanent procrastinator| Social flagbearer| Education evangelist| Co founder Marketingthingy/Socialthingy| Winner standing alone :) Contact: amritasarkar1709@gmail.com
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