“Hey! So, you were made last night?”
“Yes… And I’m not so happy you know…”
“Yeah… I can guess that from your tone… But what type are you?”
“I’m really sad…”
“Aww… That’s not good…”
“Are you a happy one?”
“Oh yes, I am a really happy one!”
“It’s a pity we can’t see each other… This page she left between is such a rude barrier!”
“I guess, happy and sad are two different things and do have an invisible wall…”
“So what’s the story she wrote in you?”
“Don’t ask me… I’m so full of tears and desolation that I can’t explain… I’m some 200 lines, man!”
“(Laughs) Okay… Fine… At least you’re helping her get out of what she made with me while falling in…”
“Tell me your story…”
“Oh, no no… She would sing me and read me over and over again… But now she does none…”
“Please understand… We are just fragments of experiences, expressions of moods… We are not meant to be alive forever! But we may be preserved forever…”
“Hmm… I guess you’re right…”
“Tell me your story, at least that’ll help me deal with all the sadness, fires, burning, blood, tears, etc that she put in me!”
“Okay… I will tell you the story. Not the lyrics that make me…”
“Yeah… Go on… I think it’ll make me feel a little better…”
It was a couple of years ago when she bought this diary and began scribbling her feelings. I am one of the first few. What I gathered from all others around is definitely one of the sweetest things that ever happened to her. She tore off many of us in the past few months but she never tore me… Thankfully, I still live to tell the happy story…
Jordan was a twelfth grade student when Laila joined Melbrooke High School, in the tenth grade. The first few days were spent in getting to know people but her life changed from the day her eyes caught a glimpse of Jordan. She would make up reasons to get out into the corridor right when classes ended and eagerly wait for him to pass by. She would hide behind the hedges and gaze at him from a distance. She would dream of him and keep falling deeper and deeper in love, right here, lying on her bed, hugging her pillow. Often she restrained herself, promising not to keep looking out for him and concentrate on other things because she never thought that she was good enough for him. The funny thing is, she knew nothing about him and yet felt like she knew everything! It was wonderful. But the whole season passed by and it was only this hiding and loving, marveling over the unexplored charms!
Laila had never seen a boy anymore handsome, smarter, better than Jordan. His voice rang in her mind. She downloaded all his pictures from anywhere she could find a source—school’s website, friend’s profiles, some hidden clicks in her phone… Laila made strings of slide shows and kept playing them over and over again! Jordan loved kids, however, and she often found him playing with the junior section. They would run after him, a toddler on his back, another in his arms, and he would laugh with them and play! Very rarely he smoked one fag or half… For that he would hide himself to some secluded lane with his friends, and do it! Laila found out the entire outside of him but she longed for the inside. She ached to be locked with his heart in his rib cage… A cage that she will never break away from even if it became difficult to breathe…
Four years back, after their last summer holidays got over, her heart sank. Jordan’s terms would end in a couple of months more and then she would not see him again! She couldn’t think what could be done to prevent this… With a heart, drunk in love and misery, she continued school.
It so happened that during a fete in the school, the building caught fire. Blazing fire. People panicked. Some could rush out, some couldn’t. Everything went haywire. Laila had come out but she kept looking out for Jordan. She couldn’t see him. She thought he must have left but then a thought caught her and she froze. Jordan must have been to the junior section to help in getting the children to safety. Is he still there? Oh no, that wing was ablaze most mercilessly. Laila ran in madness and anxiety. She had to see. She must look out for him, for Jordan.
Inconspicuously she escaped from safety and set afoot in the fire’s madness. Her hands developed fresh scars and burns while she ran into the crumbling building. She called his name, for the first time in her life… She screamed his name and looked around in apprehension. The fumes chocked her. Still she strained her vocal chords to call out “Jordan…. Joooor daaaan….” And caught in the ramshackle of glowing embers, ash and flames, she saw him. He was trapped but he held a small, scared kitten in his arms. He was at the end of his strengths, but the kitten was alive. She pulled together all her strength, moved deeper into the massacre and finally reached him. She touched his face. She began to cry in happiness that he was alive. He opened his eyes in daze. She kissed him on the lips. She kissed him all over his face like a puppy licks its master out of love. She held his hand, helped him up. He couldn’t run. He was hurt. She walked with him. They climbed out of a rear window. She held his hand and she was determined not to let go. Walking to safety, She let him sit down under a tree… The kitten jumped off his arm but remained next to him, faintly mewing at him. Her tears were large. They swelled her heart. She held his face and kissed him again. He looked into her pretty face. This time, he kissed in return. He moved his arms around her. He felt the taste of her tears that rolled down her cheeks and seeped in between the movement of their lips. He looked at her, deeply. She noticed the cuts and burns on him.
It was on this bed, in this room, that she dressed his wounds. It was here that he asked her name… She had said, “I’m Laila…”. It was here that he felt special and their hearts mingled. It was here that they made love for the first time… It was here that they wove dreams. And it was here that she learnt that his life belonged to the dark horses.
Laila had promised to be the light in his eyes even when he would join his father, a Cosa Nostra. He asserted that this is why he never got close to any girl. He didn’t want agony. She couldn’t let him go. He warned her but she was reckless. It is all that she had put in this diary.
“….So what happened?”
“Jordan was killed.”
“But I remain her only song that knows her deepest story… I guess that’s why she kept me.”
“Yeah… And I think I’m her last song that she will never sing…”
Copyright2014. Amrita Kar Roy. All Rights Reserved