I
was standing barefoot on the sea side rocks. The sun was beneath the
horizon and scattered its last remaining redness before fading away.
Then daylight dies, darkness prevails. You can't determine if it's dawn
or dusk. There's a beautiful name for this confusing time: twilight.
There was a gentle breeze blowing. That blow struck my face, my hair, my
whole body. Or should I say my soul too? The sheer ecstasy of mundane
beauty sometimes makes me forget about my very own existence. And I
think it's okay. It's been just a few days I moved to this place.
What
could I possibly think of now? Happy thoughts or sad ones? I could
barely control all kinds of emotions relentlessly flowing inside.
And
then the voice came over, from behind. 'Esha?' I knew who it was. For
god's sake I know who it is. I've known this voice for a long, long
time. Yet, I decided not to turn back. Why? What would I ask him? Where
has he been all the time when I waited for him?
Questions piled up. But I no longer cared for the answers.
It's good that he is here.
He
stood right beside me, unsure of what to do. Maybe he has lots of
stories to tell, he just can't decide which one to start with. Or maybe
it's nothing.
How could I know that Rashed was actually burning
inside just to touch my hand for a moment? He just feared it all could
turn out to be a dream he had been dreaming for too long.
He stepped a bit closer.
'I knew I would find you here someday. I've been waiting for so long', he whispered through the air.
I didn't know what to say. After a few moments, I gently held his hand. It was already dark outside.
The writer is a second year student at the
University of Dhaka
