“Aamake amar moton thakte dao
Aami nijeke nijer
moton
Guchiye niyechi…”
-
Song by
Anupam Roy
She liked to call herself by a greek name but could never
decide between Aphrodite or Athena.. At moments she was the epitome of reason
and wisdom.. others she was an embodiment of love and care and all things in
between.
Somehow Aphroena (“the mix of the two”) was never satiated..
One time someone she had randomly bumped into asker her after luncheon on
whether she was satiated. Aphroena answered… “satiated means the end of
desire.. and I hope I am never satiated..”
Despite a very full life of love and loving, of family and
kids, of home and work, of homework and endless work, of lists and to do’s, she
was her very own person…
Aphroena as the name suggests was a complexity of
contradictions.. and torn in between..
Her sould needed quenching.. rigged.. turned inside out.. felt and
understood..
If it was just lust she always had a long list of admirers..
Lust is always easy.. Momentary and empty.. Don’t get me wrong.. She like all
others needed it… that humanly touch..
Love according to her was overrated.. What is truly love is
only a mother’s bond with a child and vice versa.. Rest everything is fluid
from love to comfort to routine to passe and the in-betweens.
So, what was she seeking.. someone who understands this
contradiction without her explaining it.. someone who desires her beyond any
measure of lust or love.. with someone who she could be herself, who could set
her free yet hold her firmly, who could rake her away from the mundane
sometimes even with words…
Someone who would touch her soul infinitely..
Maybe such a person never existed, she thought. Maybe it was
a just her notion of life and living or just a figment of her imagination.
Aphroena smiled as she saw herself in the mirror- pale, grey
haired and that wrinkly smile . She had no complains from life. She had met
many interesting peoples, some for a season but mostly all for a reason. Some
had helped her discover herself, some she helped discover themselves, few were
heart wrenching but none were soul fulfilling, the ones with whom infinity
could be defined.
At 90, she let out a giggle… she flipped through pages of
her diary reminiscing and wondering how George Clooney still did something to
her.
The pictures on the mantelpiece told many a tale- of
marriage, of kids, jobs, houses to homes and homes to houses, of kids that flew
the best and her companion of gave up on life.. the wonder years..
Maybe today at the Christmas carnival at the auditorium she
will meet someone and will want to live another 90 years at a heartbeat..
As she called the nurse to push the wheelchair, she gave a
last look at the mirror and adjusted the red scarf round her neck. She smirked
to herself as the wheelchair glided on…
Aphroena lived on…………...
