The Zephyr

Last night, I saw her again. I cannot see her when I am wide awake. And, our rendezvous would be limited to the annals of my dreams till we meet again at the gates of paradise. It was common understanding that I could no longer see her physical form and she cannot reveal her astral avatar to me. I know not where she is but I do know that she is happy after breaking free from the earthly bonds which chained her soul to the peccadilloes of life.

My first memories of life were of Tach (as I call her) and I, in the ancient house surrounded by a large posse of relatives, aunts, uncles and grand parents. I use to be the apple of her eyes and my tiny world revolved around her. To my eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the entire Universe, chubby with a dimpled smile. The moment she would see me, her face would break into a grin and her eyes sparkled.

One summer afternoon, she read out my first story from a Tinkle comic (when I could barely read). It was about friendship-a tale of an arrogant girl learning how to make friends. Together, we would enter the magical kingdom of stories filled with kings, princesses, wizards, legends and dreams. She was a dreamer and she taught me to look beyond the horizon, leap into the universe and reach for the stars.

Tach was the focal point all through my childhood and even later on. She would jump over the parapet and pull me across, as I squealed in fear. We'd get drenched in the first showers of the monsoon or eat pori on the terrace, watching the sky erupt into a million hues of gold, yellow and pink as dusk dawned with its dark glory. Natural phenomena fascinated her - be it an eclipse or the occasional sighting of Venus, she would let nature wash over her senses with its pristine marvel.

We'd scramble to the sofa and watch the wrestling matches (WWE) or laugh over Tom and Jerry's hilarious antics. She would make my school scrap book filling it with beautiful pictures of flowers and animals. As we walked at the beach, Tach would take me deep into the water to experience the huge waves despite pleas from my mother to come back. She was a daredevil who taught me to be brave. She was my guide, my teacher who patiently suffered through ceaseless questions and the quest for answers.

Tach was my solace when the walls of expectations closed in, suffocating me. To her, I was flawless and the feeling was mutual. As time passed, our paths changed but when we managed to meet, it was the same old magic. Despite the distance, her voice would cheer me up, leaving behind a warm glow and the courage to face life. She taught me to smile despite all obstacles and enjoy life's bounty to the hilt.

Tach loved to dress up in the latest fashion. She was impeccable in her appearance and proud of herself. I used to watch her as she wore matching bangles and shimmering ear rings, dabbing her eyes with kohl and wearing her favourite jewellery. Through those painful times, she never let the ordeal affect her personality. As usual, she was quick to smile with a witty retort ready to roll off her tongue despite the physical struggle.

My love for Tach is like the warm rays of the sun, penetrating through the cloudy days. The intensity of our love for each other was as obvious as the Earth's spherical shape. As we relived those moments, the silence between us conveyed those myriad emotions. The spark in her eyes would tell me that she felt the same as I did and words weren't required. She was the Zephyr in my life's sails, sheltering it from the stormy sea and leading it safely to the harbour.

A few months ago, when she decided that she has had enough and just wanted eternal peace, she just slipped away. As her body lay on the table, covered in the deep purple cloth surrounded by wailing women; she had a smile on her lips-like she was just taking a short nap and dreaming about the wheat fields, golden sunsets and green valleys with sheep and cows grazing in idyllic pastures.

I can never believe that she is no more. Tach can never die; I know she is somewhere out there. I still feel that she would walk into the room anytime and start telling me about the championship match results of last Sunday's showdown in WWE. Her memories are frozen in time adorning the archives of my soul-a snapshot of that dimpled smile and twinkling eyes.

Every time I feel lost or scared or clueless, she comes in my dreams. I dream about her in that gray salwar, hugging me and reinforcing my faith in life and that everything will surely be alright. I would see her smiling always and I would wake up warm and comforted. I know she is incredibly happy, where ever she is. And, I am happy for her.