There she was. Glowing like the rising sun in her golden dress, a ring of light around her and a halo resting on top of her head and looking like a goddess surrounded with the trees on her left, a small pond to her right and a very beautiful waterfall behind her. Her hands spread out in front of her as if to embrace. Her serene profile sending a deep sense of peace and nostalgia through my body.
I walked towards her slowly. She backed away, frightened. This confused me. I took one more step towards her. She backed away as a reflex.
She looked frightened. As if I’m gonna cause her harm or something.
Don’t get scared, I wanted to tell her but she was running away now, taking with her the peace she had given me, leaving the nostalgia – which was now choking me with its creepy hands, creating a ripple of distress thousand times stronger than usual considering the firmness of nostalgia’s chokehold grip – behind.
She looked so familiar. As if I have always been waiting for her to come back. As if we have been separated in course of time and now, she has returned. What was it that made me want to approach her so desperately? Why did she look so familiar?
I walked towards the place she had been standing. The sound of gushing water was making me sick instead of calm. Just when I turned to frown at the pond and the waterfall forming the pond, I saw something. And what I saw made me retreat back a few paces due to fright.
Looking at me from the water was a demon. With bloodshot eyes surrounded by thick black kohl smeared wildly down her cheeks which made her look as if she’s been crying since forever. Her eyes were vacuous, devoid of all emotions but yet so deep and watery which made you feel that you’ll drown in the blankness and get lost forever. She looked as if she has lost herself and has, long ago, given up any hopes of ever finding herself again. Her hair were all dry and frizzy, just like the rest of her profile.
No wonder the unknown yet familiar angel wanted to run away. She didn’t want to contaminate herself from this evil-looking eyesore, who looked totally out of place surrounded by this heavenly beauty.
But yet this demon looked sad, hopeless. Seeking answers to unknown questions. In pursuit of some infinitesimal happiness.
Pity made me approach her. I reached out my hand towards her, which she immediately copied, ofcourse, too eager for any kind of help.
But what happened on meeting of our hands paralyzed me with immense fear. Because, what was supposed to be a hand reaching out eagerly towards me, was nothing but water reflecting my movement, ditto. It was me. I was the demon. The eyesore.
Everything became crystal clear now. The angel, the nostalgia, the pity. And what I realized wasn’t helping one bit.
I woke up with a start