Reflection, could be a dream

Up and down hills, through forests and rivers, with birds chirping all around—it must have been a cloudy day when we went out for a walk. I can’t recall if it was purposeful or not. The roads, uneven and winding, were likely muddy; I remember navigating them carefully.

There were three of us on the hike: me, her, and my brother. Almost the entire way, I found myself either walking behind them or ahead. Frustration, anger, and agitation churned within me, mixed with a strange, aching sense of longing. She walked with my brother, holding his hand for most of the journey. I knew there was nothing to be suspicious about—I trusted them both. She was mine, after all. Or was she? My confidence wavered, haunted by the past.

Time becomes irrelevant when you think of love, when you breathe love, when you feel its warmth and togetherness. Yes, it sounds poetic, perhaps even fanciful, but it’s real. I know it is. My medical records, at least so far, declare me sane, and yet I’ve experienced love so profoundly that I can almost certainly say it’s real. And yet, as we walked, her warmth was directed elsewhere. She was engrossed in conversation with my brother, and I couldn’t help but feel envious. Why wasn’t she walking beside me, holding my hand, sharing her warmth with me after all these years?

Finally, we reached a place that resembled a home but wasn’t ours. To my surprise, all our family members, even the distant ones, were there. Some kind of event was taking place, though it seemed irrelevant to me. My mind was entirely focused on her and the weight of things left unsaid. I was angry—furiously so—and my behavior toward her since we met had been less than kind. I knew why, and by now, you do too. But she seemed completely unaware. How could she not understand how much I wanted her to be with me after all these years? How could she take things for granted?

She finally asked me, “What’s wrong? You’re not acting normal.”

“Normal? What do you mean?” I snapped. “What does ‘normal’ even look like?”

“You haven’t changed all these years,” she replied, her tone clipped. “Try a better answer.”

So it was me, I thought. I was the one creating scenes. Still, the anger simmered within me, but eventually, I let it go. I don’t remember exactly how or why, but I chose to be happy again. It must have been a reunion after years of separation. My subconscious whispered that she had left me once before, and perhaps that was true. The mind plays strange games. It’s as though you know certain truths but choose to ignore them for the sake of bliss. Maybe I was doing the same.

The house we were in sat atop a hill. The air was thick with fog and mist, and it must have been either dusk or dawn. The weather was chilly; I could tell by the clothes we were wearing. She wore black skinny leggings and a thin windbreaker or maybe a jacket. People gathered outside on the patio for reasons that didn’t concern me. My focus was on her. She sat on the ground, surrounded by others but apart from them in my mind.

I walked closer, overwhelmed by feelings both familiar and pristine. I wanted to lie down on her lap, just as I had on our first outdoor date atop a hill surrounded by salla trees. I longed to look up at her through the curve of her bosom, the way I had done so many years ago. She looked stunning, even now. You know that feeling when you lie down and gaze at the sky, how deeply satisfying it is? Now imagine adding the presence of the person you love. It amplifies that bliss, making you feel as though you’re in the lap of a divine presence, completely free, stressless, and merged with your subconscious joy. That’s what I felt—exactly what I had felt long ago.

I stood up and looked at her, noticing something new. She was aging. “You have wrinkles,” I said. “You’ve gotten old.” Then I turned to my brother. “Look, she’s getting old.”

I knew I was old too. A long, long time must have passed. But then again, age is irrelevant when you encounter bliss. I looked at her and sang softly,

टाढा-टाढा कता-कता
हामी दुवै पुगी सक्यौं

तर अन्त्य यसको यहीँ
तर अन्त्य यसको यहीँ
भन्न अझै मनै भएन
तिम्रो माया मार्नै सकिन्न
तिम्रो माया मार्नै सकिन्न
 
मर्न बरु गाह्रो हुन्न,
मर्न बरु गाह्रो हुन्न,
तिम्रो माया मार्नै सकिन्न
तिम्रो माया मार्नै सकिन्न 

Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Love, in all its imperfection and beauty, was still there. It always had been.