Mist-Unveiled

It was five in the morning. The horizon was stretching its arms out of the gloomy winter night’s slumber preparing itself to welcome a new dawn. In my favorite black and red Salwar Suit, that Irfan bought me with his first salary, I was standing on the almost deserted railway platform. But for the Hindustan Express that was about to leave in a few minutes, the station would have been a dim lit dungeon housing the brutal beasts who had turned anything but human due to the previous night’s drink.

“Your attention please; Train number 156284, Puranaghar to Badalpur, Hindustan Express is about to leave from platform Number 1”, the alert hit me like a jolt. It had been four years since I first met Irfan and not even once did he ever come on time. That day being the most important day of our lives he was still not able to make it on time. Reluctantly I settled the luggage in the already stationed train and got down the foot-board expecting him to arrive anytime then. I could imagine him running through the gate with his camera hanging from his neck and smiling his unmistakable “See I could make it”, kind of smiles. Contrary to my imagination, the train honked into the air leaving me to stare at the platform with startled looks. If I stayed on the platform that would be the end of my career and if I continued the journey without him then I’ll ever be able to see him again.

I was still contemplating on my next move when the train started with a slender jerk that fell like a thunder in my heart. Deep within I knew he would come. He might have broken promises many times before but that morning I knew he was going to come. But my heart didn’t allow me to step into the train. I kept staring at the moving train and the empty platform unable to think of anything but him. How wonderful it would be if he came rushing through the entrance shrugging his hands as if it wasn’t his mistake to be late. I stood there nonplussed as the train went past me whistling to the reddening skies.

I stumbled to the floor gracefully squatting on my knees my hands urging the flooding tears to go back to their rightful place. I knew he was going to come in any circumstances and if he didn’t show up then that meant only one thing, Caught

The first time when I saw him, I was addressing the Fresher’s day meet in the college where among hundreds of staring eyes, his single eyes camera caught my attention. Relieved of the peering eyes of the audience which kept scaring me out of myself I completed my speech looking at the lens that didn’t move from his face till the end. Startled by the resonating roar of applause that followed the nonchalant silence that prevailed until then I once again turned to look at him just in time to see his handsome face smiling triumphantly and for once he brought the camera in-front of his face and snap came the shot.

His thick eyebrows and his appreciating smile kept fading in and out of my memory almost every minute I found myself alone. The next one month I had to resist myself from inquiring about him but finally one day I yielded to my desire to meet him once again and planned to skip a guest lecture to continue my probe. After one hour’s tedious inquiry I came to know that his name was Irfan and that he was a final year journalism student. No sooner did I get the information than I ran to the department reminding myself that within half an hour, the guest lecture would end and once lost an opportunity like than might not be possible in near future. The world didn’t seem to move until I reached his classroom and once I was ten feet far from it, everything seemed to pick pace once and for all. Even my heart that struggled to follow my footsteps until then suddenly accelerated its own pace contrary to my frozen steps. Gathering all my courage, I traced my steps towards the door with every single step resounding in a high pitched echo in my heart. 

I was at the door trying to compose myself to an unenthusiastic demeanor when the words felt like a sting in my by then solidified composure. “Irfan was called to the seminar hall to cover a guest lecture”, a couple of students were talking among themselves. Within few minutes I found myself rushing to the seminar hall almost stumbling in my way. By the time I reached the door, the lecture was already over and the students were dispersing in troops. Standing beside the door, I kept staring at the departing crowd praying more than expecting to see him emerge from within. With every passing minute the number of oozing heads kept reducing thus widening the gap between. It was through one of those gaps that I traced a stare that stung deep into my looks. There he was standing on the other side of the door looking as nonplussed as I was. For a moment I couldn’t differentiate myself from him. He was staring at me in the same way that I was looking at him, his widened eyes betraying the forcibly withheld smile and then he let it go loose after realizing that we were on the same lines. That moment I knew that the past was no more a part of my life and the future held no meaning if he ceased to be a part of it.

The next four years I never knew what loneliness meant. We were always together wandering the lengths and breadths of the city. As soon as he completed his graduation irfan got placed as a photo journalist in a leading newspaper. His profession never succeeded in stealing him away from me. Instead the newly found independence, from being a encaged student to a free bread winner, made it much easier for us to meet each other every evening. The college gate, the adjoining tea stall, his metallic red pulsar all bear the footprints of our love deeply inscribed on them.

It was only after the proposal of marriage came up in the both the households that the reality dawned upon us. The virtual boundaries that differentiated every two religions in the society made their presence strongly felt. My parents who always spoke of secularism and humanity seemed to turn a deaf ear to my pleadings. On the other hand Irfan’s parents got convinced to accept me into their household if I changed my religion which let alone my parents even I didn’t heed to. Irfan found it unacceptable to hear that I preferred my religion more than his relationship. But I had only one question to him, whether he would leave his own faith to breathe life to our dying relationship. I didn’t meet him for almost six months after that until one night I found him staring at me through the darkening twilight at the corner of our avenue.

“My religion follows as a shadow to me as much as your does to you. Come with me and I promise you to take to a place where a canopy of humanity obstructs any shadow from following the human kind”, his emotion filled voice still resonate in my ears. Within few hours I found myself packing all the basic amenities. The next morning I was up and prepared much before the sun could rise and was about to reach to the door when the adjacent room creaked open. Instinctively I rushed back to my room and shut the door leaving a small gap to allow some space to peep through. I could see my father, surprisingly well dressed so early in the morning, staring at the sky from the window. He seemed to be immersed in deep thoughts as he held his hands against his chest and breathed heavily. The time was running out but he didn’t seem to move. After what felt like a life time, I could see him carefully open the door. The time was running out but I resisted the urge to look at my watch. I counted under my breath ,10,9,8,7… the unmistakeable sound of the engine of his motor cycle confirmed that he did leave the house contrary to my fears that he might linger for some more time in the balcony. However his silent expedition made me think for a while but soon realising that the time is running out I strode to the nearby auto stand.

Not less than one hour later I was kneeling on the deserted platform where the Hindustan Express stood minutes earlier bolting myself into a curve with my hands urging the flooding tears to go back. I knew who would come under any circumstances and if he didn’t come then it meant only one thing, Caught. The rigid posture of my father floated back to the front of my mind, his eyebrows narrowed in deep contemplation. Though I couldn’t convince myself that he might have done something to Irfan, the more I thought of it, the more it got imprinted in my mind. I couldn’t understand how so loving a person like my father could stoop to such levels. I was crying my heart out to let go of the sorrow that kept choking me from within when I heard him call out to me. Startled at the utterance of my name in that by then so familiar hoarse voice, I turned towards the entrance to find him there as expected running towards me. It was only after I cleared my vision of the soaking tears which now mingled with those of joy, did I see his face beaming with joy but for the blood soaked shirt that betrayed his expression. 

Halting in-front of me with so much force that he almost fell off the floor, he held my trembling arms in his hands and nodded with relief his own tears soaring the crimson red on his shirt. Under gasps of breath he narrated all that had happened since he left my place vowing to provide me a great future. He told me how he found his mother almost unconscious lying at the entrance of their house Uttering prayers with a voice not more than a whisper. On regaining her consciousness she told him that his sister was not home that evening and that his father had gone to her college to enquire about her whereabouts. Instinctively, he ran to the college to accompany his father. Together they searched the entire college, enquired her friends, called upon their relatives and lodged a complaint in the police station but none of them could give them any solace. They were riding throughout the night searching every nook and corner of the city not convinced to wait for the police to begin their search adamantly in the morning.

It was early in the morning when the father and son tired and hopeless by then had heard a scream from the adjacent lane. The voice clearly told them that it was a man of not less than fifty years of age while they rushed to help the agonizing person. To their astonishment they found a person lying beside a car, his motorcycle lying four feet away from the site, getting thrashed by a group of youngsters who seemed to show no mercy at all. They immediately ran to the person's aid and together urged the gang to flee during which they themselves got thrashed by the rods and the chains used by the group. As they tried to move the unconscious man into the halted car, they found Irfan’s sister lying equally unconscious in the back seat.

The man was indeed my father, as Irfan came to know later when he saw his identity card, on his way to Irfan’s place to talk about our marriage unable to see me tormented every day. confused of the lanes and the by lanes of the colony, he went to ask the man leaning against the car  if he could help him out with the address in his hand when he found the girl lying unconscious in the back seat. He couldn’t resist himself from inquiring and no sooner did he do that than he found himself being pounded by a group of young men who until then seemed to be absent from the location.

Two hours later I was in the hospital sitting in front of my father who had by then regained his consciousness and was smiling reassuringly on seeing my apologizing face. My throat however was choking with guilt and his pampering hand on my head burst everything into a single shower of unforgivable tears. Until then I believed that my love for Irfan was beyond words but that moment I realized that a father’s love towards his daughter goes beyond his own life.