KNOWN ANONYMITY

‘Mitankar’-my name: it is the only thing that I like about myself. But when HE called me by this, I felt sad. Why? Is it because that I am too accustomed to listen to the short and sweet monosyllabic word, or is it that I had taken things for granted? Is it ‘cause I preferred it that way or is it because HE liked me calling by that (HE always used to say that it was not just a word spoken, but a whole world of emotions felt)? The questions remained unanswered.

With the word escaping HIS lips, I stood there misunderstood: my feelings misinterpret and my words (those that I had spoken earlier) misjudged. HE finished fitting the bulbs into the sockets. With the click of the switches, the court was illuminated, but what about the darkness that was devouring our relation, the gloom that hovered over our love, that bleakness that stealthily crept into our lives? The queries were unsolved.

HE sat beside me on the dias, a square tile away. I felt HIS fatigue, sensed HIS tiredness, realized that HE was weary, but could not lend HIM my shoulders. Sounding like a hypocrite—I had deliberately tried to be so. HIS eyes questioned as to why I had compelled HIM to call me by my full name—I could only afford to remain quiet. My silence smothered HIM and though I found a tear round the corner, I continued being inert, unwilling though.

It was me who made that tall figure stoop low, it was my comment that shattered HIS inside, and it was me who deliberately, cold-bloodedly murdered HIS faith. I admitted it. But no one saw as to why I had done so. No soul could hear me crying out of agony as I parted from HIM. Nobody felt the need behind all of these. What they saw was just a friend betraying another. I had rushed to HIM to speak out everything—the reason to why I had behaved that way, tell him what pushed me this far to be this harsh with him. But when I went several flights above the sea-level to see HIM, I was devastated by the derivation he had made out of the entire thing. I was shocked to see the after effect on him, but on the other hand, HIS thought processes disgusted me. I found HIM stuck and hence I made no further move. My silence continued.

Questions still flood in: do I care for HIM? Do I still consider HIM my friend? Does HE think about me? Does HE miss me? I dare not try to answer these. What if the answers are negative? What if I realize that I don’t feel for HIM? What if I find out that HE has forgotten me? I don’t even want to take a chance. ‘Mitankar’ is far more welcome.