She Died That Night

Rina died a new days back. I buried her, somewhere deep in my heart. 

She was a dream. And like all beautiful dreams, she was great, as along as she was there. I loved her dearly. But she was so distant, almost inviolable, darting in and out of the dark clouds of my life; as though she came from another planet. A shimmering but very remote planet. A place, whose thought sent the mind into a convulsion of emotions. From my distant perch, it appeared to be a land of milk and honey. But it also conjured images of awe and fear, in the unfledged mind. She fought, cajoled, scolded and loved. But all of it seemed so wonderful. I wished it would never end. But it did, that night. 

I called her Rina, to the rest of the world she was Rashmi. Rashmi lives on; Rina died that night. As I laid her to rest in the depth of my heart and grieved, I knew that she had left behind a wealth of beautiful memories, wonderful moments, which would serve as my companion for the rest of my life.

As I sat, staring out of my bus window, at the verdant fields yonder, her charming, smiling face floated in and out of my reverie. Every word she had said, remains indelibly etched in my memory.