Doleful Dawn

Episode 1(page1)

It was the latter half of August 1995, and Sikkim was beginning to enjoy its most pleasantweather with the onset of autumn. The rains had not stopped completely, but the worst of themonsoon was over. I had arrived recently in Gangtok to continue my studies at the SikkimGovernment College, and was staying with my Sikkimese friend Sonam Lepcha and his family,having exhausted all the excuses I could come up with to his insistent invitation. The only son ofa wealthy contractor, Sonam did not turn out a spoilt brat in spite of the family wealth. We firstmet and remained close friends ever since the 11th National Jamboree
–
the national meeting ofscouts and guides
–
held at Bhopal five years earlier, where I represented Mizoram and he,Sikkim. We managed to keep in touch down the years not only through the occasional telephoneconversation but also through letters.In his last letter, he wrote about a Mizo pastor in the Gangtok Evangelical Presbyterian Church,
waxing eloquent on the beauty of the pastor’s d

aughter Remi. He also mentioned that Remi has almost finished her
master’s
under the English department at Gauhati University, and that she is presently in Gangtok due to ill-health.Since classes had already commenced and my classmates had left me far behind, I barely hadtime to enjoy what autumn could offer. On Sunday, however, I went aloh my friend to the church where the Mizo pastor ministered. After the service, we lingered for a while in the church premises, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pa
stor’s daughter. When at last my friend said, “That’sher!” and I turned towards the direction of his speech, boy was I floored!
I’m done for, and you
may perform the last rites straightaway
.I was immediately enchanted, just like those exceptionally beautiful butterflies of childhoodflapping their dainty wings kept us mesmerised, giving us no other option but to chase after them.These lines from a verse by Kit (Christopher Marlowe) I had memorized right after our HighSchool days, but which I had not yet come across a girl worthy to say to, all came flooding backto my mind:
“Was this the face that launch’d a thousand ships,
  And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.”

Indeed, Remi looked beautiful enough to launch a thousand battleships and reduce the towers ofIlium to ashes, and confer immortality with a single kiss. She had a finely chiselled face with amle on her left cheek, and a high-ridged Grecian nose that looked more Aryan than Mongoloid.She grew her straight black hair rather long, reaching all the way below her shoulders. To tell the
truth, I haven’t come across any Mizo girl more beautiful than her ever since I was born (not that
I could think of having come across one before I was born). Except for the fact that her chest and backside might be considered a tad too flat, she was almost perfect in terms of looks and features.Her voice had just the right resonance, throaty yet very feminine at the same time. And at the riskof sounding pretentious and making an overstatement, let me just add that her beauty surpasses beauty itself. To behold her is to be smitten by her beauty, and her radiance virtually suggests she  belongs among the heavenly beings. She pierced my heart straightaway with Cupid’s invisible
arrow of love, and without any intimation beforehand, left an indelible footprint in the innermostregions of my heart where no one has ever set foot before.