Aphroena

“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…………...