Story so far : Leon and Lesa had been college sweethearts, and also the hottest couple of their college. They pass out of their college and Leon’s lack of substance and careless attitute towards life force Lesa to get her marriage fixed elsewhere . Leon is unable to come to terms with this fact and misbehaves with Lesa. They part on an extremely bitter note.
Leon came straight home from the restaurant and downed a few shots of neat vodka. That instantly relaxed his nerves, which were almost at a breaking point from all the stress he had had in the evening. This made it easy for him to sway his own emotions. He knew something was nagging him from the inside, but by now he’d become an expert at suppressing it, at playing with his own emotions to convince himself of things. ‘Who the hell does that bitch think she is, that she’s the only girl that I can have? That I’ll allow myself to get affected by her leaving me? Oh, she can go to hell for all I care…’ were Leon’s last thoughts before he drifted off to an alcohol induced sleep.
Lesa got busy with her wedding preps and tried to forget Leon. They’d almost become a part of each other in all these six years, and it was very hard on her. But she had taken her decision after considerbale thought. She’d known Michael since they were kids, had played together and all. Leon did leave a deep void inside her, and many nights she had to cry herself to sleep, but she knew Michael would fulfil this emptiness inside her, and she tried to remain cheerful all this time.
Leon’s peace of mind grew progressively worse everyday after the first day. This nagging feeling from inside him grew sharper everyday. He was afraid to explore it, and as such tried to suppress it the best he could, but it made him even more miserable. Besides, he was missing Lesa. He tried to busy himself with his office work, tired to mix with his office mates, even took one of his female colleagues out for dinner. But nothing could match Lesa, he realized. Every day continued to be the worst ever for him. He was getting overwhelmed by misery every passing day.
Leon woke up one evening to find some post in his postbox. Surprised, he looked it up. It was Lesa’s wedding card.
He grew crazy at the very sight of it. He felt as if he were bound and gagged and couldn’t even move an inch, couldn’t even breathe. He wanted to shout, shout till something happened. Right now, he could punch the walls, jump off from a building, do anything to get Lesa back. But he knew that all this was fultile. Lesa was now with love with somebody else, and he knew that he could turn the flow of the Yamuna river that flowed through his city, but not that of Lesa’s heart.
Leon got out and got himself drunk. It was late into the night by the time the bar closed. He walked towards his apartment, staggering, falling by the wayside, picking gimself up and then walking. He passed his college building, went to the gate and holding the bars, looked inside. He burst into tears. Howling like a kid, he looked at all the landmarks where he and Lesa had spent the happiest time of their lives. He cried and cried, and with his tears, he felt his own pettiness, all his follies flowing away…
“Dearest Lesa,I know I have caused you enormous grief. I know I don’t deserve to be listened. But you must do this for me, as you have done numerous things for me in the past. You must listen to me one last time.
I’ve been a very small man. When it was time to build a character, I didn’t build any. Because to do so, you have to pass through difficulties, face tough times. I had always been a bloody pretender, pretending to myself that I could get past the challenges by doing some quality pretending. Every man has god sitting inside him, guiding him through his voice of conscience. I was so afraid of treading the unknown path, that I not only suppressed that voice, but also tried to shut it down. As a result, now I am left with nothing.
I know it’s too late for you, and even if it weren’t, you deserve someone better than me. I wish you and Michael Best of Luck for you future life. It’s enough for me that you did love me sometime. The time I spent with you was the best ever that anyone had, and I can find comfort in that. If there’s anything I can do for you anytime, you can have anything.
Leon wrote the letter in one go, and regarded it once more. He knew that he was drunk, and that the letter lacked any flow, but he felt comfortable from within that although unimpressive for a third person, Lesa would know that it had come from his heart. He carefully put it in an envelope and decided to post it the nex day.
Waking up at noon the next day, the first thing that Leon did was to hop on his bike and he went in search of a post-box. Last night’s alcohol had him in a terrible hangover, and the soothing effect was also gone. Within a few seconds of getting on his bike, he was back to his usual self; he was again conscious of the phut-phut sound his bike was making, of his swollen eyes, and dishevelled hair, and of the ‘impression’ they would leave on the females passing him by. He again wanted an out, out of this whole business of losing Lesa and apologising to her. He found a post box and stopped his bike in front of it.
Leon turned off the ignition of his bike, took out the envelope from the bag, and kicked the side stand into place. Slowly, he walked towards the beaten up, dented red and black post-box, hanging miserably from a hook attached to a concrete electricity pole. His jaws clenched, his right hand balled tightly into a fist, almost tearing the envelope it was holding in its grip. The kick he’d applied to put his side-stand into place had been much sharper than necessary. Leon stood facing the mouth of the ugly post box staring at him. He looked at it, and for a moment almost thought it was laughing away at him. He knew he was tense. Taking a deep breath, he pushed with his hand, the letter it was holding into the post box. His hand was now inside the post box, the iron plate of the box biting into the back of his palm. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity ran through his head. Violently, he pushed his hand out of the letter-box, took the envelope in both his hands and tore it to tiny, tiny pieces. ‘God damn! God damn…GODDAMMIT !’ he spat out under his breathe as he walked to his bike, kicked the engine to life, and roared away. A sudden realisation had dawned upon him, that he was a big, big liar.
PS: So this story ends here. Please be kind enough to write me your brickbats/bouquets. They’ll be read with utmost sincerity.
PPS: I actually wrote this story a year ago, but lost it in a hard disk format. Only rewrote it beacuse a certain one-year-younger-than-myself fellow deserved that his story be told. Believe me, the story had changed quite a lot in being rewritten, and rewriting was a more difficult job. I hope my efforts have paid off, and atleast someone has enjoyed this story. 🙂