STRESS KILLS

It was past mid night. Goa was still alive but Arambol beach was silent. The waves were banging heads incessantly on the beach, the white froth was shining in the full moon night. Ashutosh was alone, he was sitting on the stairs of his shack which lead to the sands. His feet touched the soft and coldness of the beach. This was the first time he had dared to travel alone after Arunima had passed away. But the emptiness was eating its way to his heart. There was a slight pain that aroused from the middle of his chest but strangely he felt more alive. Their house back in Mumbai was a museum of their memories together and he was still quite unprepared to face those, alone. Relatives and their constant pandemonium barely gave him a chance to think of her to the fulfilment of his heart. But that night he was alone, in Goa, one of their favourite locations of travel. He was happy to be able to enjoy his melancholy and think of her over and over again.

Arunima was a nature lover, the only aspect of life that gave her happiness was closeness to the oceans, nearness to the mountains. And offcourse him. She was a painter of words, a narrator and a dreamer. That night the Arabian beauty lay in front of his eyes, but a girl with long silky hair was not sitting by him clinging to his hand with candid childishness. Her twinkling eyes, infectious smile and innocent face was nowhere to be seen. Tear drops had appeared in Ashutosh’s eyes without his consent. He closed his eyes in the hope beholding her. And she appeared.

Since the last few months she was suffering from hypertension, urban life stress, her want to embrace motherhood, and her desperate try for striking balance between the writer in her and her corporate life tore her to pieces. She kept complaining that she never felt comfortable and a mist was gradually hiding the effervescence of her heart. But neither she nor Ashutosh gauged the pressure that she was subjecting herself to. Not before that accursed night. When a cardiac arrest, arrested the life of a girl full of hopes and possibilities. Leaving Ashutosh alone with her memories.

She was sitting on the sand, in a royal blue flowing gown. The light from the shack was falling on her. And Ashutosh found himself being pulled like iron towards a magnet. When she looked up at him, he could clearly see the gloom that surrounded her pretty face. Tears were rolling down her pink cheeks.

“I wanted to fly with you but shackles held me back, I wanted to touch the sky. The constant struggle to be myself killed me……I wanted to live with you………………..”

When Ashutosh opened his eyes, it was all emptiness that surrounded him. But he vowed something, he vowed to follow his dreams and never let fetters tie him up. He vowed to live for Arunima.

LOVE YOUR DREAMS AND LIVE LIFE…MECHANICAL LIFE IS WORSE THAN DEATH……REMEMBER STRESS KILLS SO LIVE HAPPY.

Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta