Thursday 6 December 2012

Intersection

It had been inevitable, right from the beginning.
This was where they had parted; this had to be the place they'd meet again.
She had always known this would happen, and yet she wasn't prepared to face him. Not now, not ever.

Hadn't she known that lines that parted would always converge somewhere, that there would always be one intersection?  

Caught up in the rush of emotions, she tried to breathe. Somehow she had to believe that he would remember her. She watched him from across the room. Age hadn't been cruel to him. He looked just as handsome as she'd thought he would be. He wasn't alone though, her mind reluctantly acknowledged. A beautiful woman sat by his side, holding his hand as she talked to him silently. Probably his wife, she thought with a pang of jealousy. Of course, he had a wife and children; she'd known that for years and the strange envy she felt surprised her.

She took a step towards where he was, oblivious of the hustle-bustle and the people moving about with their usual business around her. Just as she reached the door, she panicked. This was where he had abandoned her. But she forgave him now, letting go of the hurt. What in the world would she say to him? Feeling enervated at the continuous battle between her mind and her heart, she thought for a moment that this was her choice. She could turn back, evade this situation, never to return again, do the same thing he had done to her once, and she almost gave in. But as her eyes fell on his face again, she knew this was now or never. She may never get a chance to see him again, and she knew she couldn't live with that. She gathered up all the courage she could muster and entered the little room and faced him. Even in his state of immobility, he sensed something. She could tell by the flicker of his eyes, the sharp intake of his ragged breath. From the confinements of his hospital bed, he stared at her. There were things he recognized, she knew. The dark chestnut-brown hair, the sharp nose, the cleft in her chin, all belonged to the woman he'd once loved but, unmistakably, the eyes he looked into were his own, so was the hesitant but warm dimpled smile she offered. She took another step forward, ending the space between them that had been left open by him thirty years ago, when he'd left her in another hospital bed in her mother's arms. He tried to say something, but she knew he was overwhelmed, just as she was. Taking his hand in hers, she whispered gently what she'd been dying to say for years, "Daddy".
Everything that rises must converge.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

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I didn't have any idea what I was writing when I started this. All I knew was that it had something to do with intersection, and suddenly it shaped itself into what you just read now. I've always felt there's something complete, something whole about the way rays of light converge, as if, something that had been broken ages ago is getting fixed, as if it's healing. All  over the world people come at cross roads every day, they turn different ways, they take a wrong turn, move in a different direction...some day definitely, the two different paths meet somewhere and that's when the convalescence, the forgiveness and acceptance begin.

The pictures are from my angel, Google! ;)
 Maybe, I'll be on a break now because of my exams....but then again, who knows what goes on in the mind of a young lonely soul like me, I might just feel the urge to write a few lines :p