“Black” he said, was his favourite colour!
And those cold nights in the blue hills, his silence kept me warm!
There were times when he spoke, as if he had perfected the art of speaking! We took the long walks among the silent pines of charabara forest, that echoed with his shayari’s! And it seemed the birds too joined the feat!
He would tell me tales about the haunted dhukani house, and I would drape my shawl more tightly, that was the time he would put his hand on my shoulder, that was the only physical touch we had, and it kept me warm till we would reach our abode!
He’d ask me to feel the fragrance of the mud, freshly wetted by the elixir that God poured from above ; it would sedate my body and soul, and he’d say he felt the same for me!
Those were rare moments when he’d confess his love to me! But I never craved for more.
We’d savour the misty mornings with a cup of creamy hot tea. His fingers would flatter my tresses, I’d feel his tips caressing my nape, and that would startle me! There would be but us, the sky, the hills, the muddy aroma, his poetry and that sonorous silence!
I turned the pages of his jotted reveries and this tugged at my heartstrings……
“Jab do logon ke darmiyan khamoshi aaramdeh ho,
Jan jao ki tumhe jis pyar ki talash thi weh talaash ab khatm hui !”