Its been a month that I chanced upon the magical world of Manik and Nandini. It's such a pity that the personal equations between the cast turned so sour that an epic story of love and friendship had to untimely die out. However, I feel they (Manik...
In his current physical condition, he shouldn't have knelt down on the floor. The pain in his joints was debilitating & the journey from Mumbai had worsened it further. In fact, it was so bad that he could literally roll on the floor wailing like a 2 year old child. But without as much as a single cringe on his brows, he was pulling out the last few remaining items from the lowest rack of her drawer and stuffing it inside an over-sized carton. He could have, in fact he should have asked his driver to assist him, but portions of Manik's brain acted stubborn beyond logic when it came to Nandini. He wouldn't let anyone else touch any of her stuff, he had to do it himself, as if it was a territory only he had the permission to invade, even when it caused him pain like now.
Nandini stood there for a while, in what was now a mere skeleton of her once cozy bedroom. A house that used to scream of her presence, had been stripped clean of all her tell tale marks.
Why was it becoming so difficult to let go? It was just a house after all, and that too a residence provided by her school. It wasn't as if this house belonged to her and she had been staying here for years. It had just been a little over six months. Why this piercing sadness then? Nandini was struggling to keep her emotions in control.
What was it about this place that tugged so powerfully at her heart? Was it because it was her first job, was it the beautiful hilly ambiance, was it the memories she made here, the freedom Panchgani gave her away from everyone or did it have anything to do with Manik.
Its human nature to associate memories with things. A song can remind us of a person we love, or of the time we spent with them. A gift never remains just a gift, it eventually becomes a memoir. That's why people frame photographs and tuck away flowers in the folds of their books. This is why we pick souvenirs, because we want to hold back time & bottle up its original essence. This house, was a collection of her best memories with Manik. This town stood for miracles, because this is where she had got him back, years after giving up on even the last bit of hope. This is where they had become friends & he had fallen for her, this is where he had made all her wishes come true and this is where he had begun to heal her ailing heart. However, this realization was yet to hit her.
She knelt down and sat next to Manik who was still picking and packing things. She squeezed her hand in the tiny space between his torso and his arm and gently leaned over his shoulder.
He didn't speak anything, even though he could clearly see the turbulence in her eyes. He just ran his fingers through her strands and gently patted on her back.
"Manik chalo, I can't stay here anymore. It's choking me."
"Hm..." he said pulling her closer and kissing on her forehead twice. Nandini got up and helped Manik stand up. This time Manik couldn't hide the pain from reflecting on his face. He was in one piece, but that one piece felt like a thousand broken pieces glued together.
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