There was discontent among
everyone when I asked them to visit Butterfly Beach. As per the plans we had
the liberty to pick up a beach of our choice where we will be visiting for the
next 5 days we spend in Goa. It did took some persuasion on my part to take
everyone to this beach which I was hoping to find secluded only to end up
realising it wasn’t really as empty as the guy back at the resort has told us.
There was people around, foreigners as well, but it was much better then Anjuna
and Calangut which was just swarming with newly -wed couples, screaming
children, the jet ski rides, parasailing boats and all other activities that
could destroy a perfect gateway. While Andrew wanted to go back at Calangut we
visited yesterday to find some chicks to flirt with, Ishai had a neutral stand
and Amy was too obsessed with her book so she never cared where we’d go.
Anyways we were able to find ourselves a peaceful corner on the beach. We
rested for a while, had a little talk about stuff and then went quite again
looking towards the horizon as the sun rays danced over the clear waters.
Something interrupted Andrews gaze, probably some small fishing boat over a
distance and he stood up and told he is going to search for some beers. Ishai joined
him and they both said they will be back within an hour. Amy hardly seems to
care about anything and went back to her reading. I was the only one left with
no essential work so I asked Amy I am going to take a walk over the cliff to
get a better view of the beach and ocean.
10 minutes of walking through a
rocky side of the hill and I was almost at the top. I thought to myself it
would be a hell of a view from up here, I am sure. Only I ended up to a sight
which wasn’t really a welcoming gesture to my eyes.
“I wouldn’t do it if I were you”, I yelled at her as I took a seat
perched upon a rock just few steps away from the edge.
She did saw me. She seemed scared
but said nothing and turned her back at me.
“If you survive that fall, I assure you they going to looking for you
for murdering me.” I screamed again, this time trying to be bit sarcastic.
“And why the hell they going to look for me for murdering you? Are
you here for a thrilling experience as well as I am”, she finally uttered.
“Not exactly as you think. But I can say I had my share of what you are
going through and I must remind you it isn’t worth what you are thinking of
doing. And as far as your doubt is concerned here is why the cops will come
looking for you.
Obviously my foremost attempt will be to somehow convince you not to
jump. I had to make sure whatever I am telling you and beware of not making at
advances towards you to prevent you from jumping because in that case you will
jump as soon as I start running towards you. However if still my attempts fail
and you still jump off, I will jump off after you, being a good lad I am, in
order to somehow save you. Now since it isn’t much height to hit yourself at
the bottom, I am assuming you will hardly injure yourself and will be forced to
swim back at the beach while I would just drowning dead given the fact I can’t
swim. So who do you think they will be looking for when they start?”
“You are the weirdest guy I have ever heard talking” she shrieked at
me.
“Indeed, you are correct. And this guy is asking you not to jump
because if you jump from here the fall is hardly going to cause any injury,
forget about dying. So I suggest if you are so eager walk or swim towards
Stairway to Heaven I suggest you to try Grandmothers Hole Beach. It much more
secluded and at an appropriate height as per your requirements”.
She stood there for some time.
There was an odd silence for a moment. It appeared like she had realised that I
was correct but she wasn’t really convinced with all that and she proceeds
another step.
“Can I talk to you for a moment before you jump? I promise I will leave
you on your own as soon as I am done. I just need to speak for a moment”.
“Why?? Why do you want to talk to me? I don’t want to talk to anyone.
So just go away.” She screamed loudly, this time sobbing.
“Probably because I think I deserve to know the reason at least why you
are doing so. Think about it, committing a suicide without giving the world any
prior explanation or reason why you did that. Don’t you think it’s kind of rude”.
“The world has been rude to me. Why the fuck I would care?”
“Ok, I get it. But if you are thinking of dying without any reasons I
believe you are the dumbest person I have ever seen committing a suicide. Hell
even Amy Winehouse and Kurt Cobain had a reason to suicide no matter how fucked
up or conflicted it may be. But you jumping off this cliff for no compulsory
motivation is just bonkers and that makes you dumb.”
“I’m not dumb or stupid. I am a graduate from Stephens. You are too
stupid to assume me as dumb.”
“Doesn’t matter. You are still dumb.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes you are.”
“Go to hell.” She exclaims finally, only this time I realise she
will jump.
“What’s your name? At least tell
me the name.”
She stood motionless for some
time. I could sense some annoyance and dissatisfaction from her stance and then
she speaks up finally.
“Emily. Emily De Cruz.” She says.
“Ok, Emily Brewster. My name is Richie. Nice to meet you! Now why don’t
you walk away from that cliff start walking towards me so that we can discuss
whatever is bothering you. I am telling you again another step you make towards
that edge and it isn’t worth. So I am requesting you to kindly step away.”
She did pay no heed to my request
and was reluctant to step away.
5 years have passed since that
little stunt Emily had performed. I haven’t visited Goa due to my
frantic schedule. I left a piece of myself back there but brought back another that I will be cherishing for the eternity. Emily and I had grown older
day by day in last 5 years. We don’t see each other at all. We never call or text
each other. But we took to a rather very conventional and old- fashioned
approach to stay in touch. We write letters. That was one odd condition she
put forth when I asked for her contact. I receive letters from her randomly
although I make sure I write her once every month. I tell her about my business
trips, the pretty girl I went on date with, the alien looking food I tried,
discussing my frustrations and anguish, my desires and my fears.
She would write back, which she
did once in a blue moon and had a very peculiar way of writing letters. Emily
never write about the usual and routine stuff but her writings although may
sound eccentric they have their own way of telling me that she is
doing fine. At times it did concern me why she writes letters in such an odd
sense, which may read totally out of context and hardly made any sense. Once
she wrote me a letter in which she described me how exquisite and big the moon
would appear on a full moon night from the edge of the very cliff where we
first met. She continued how greatly she desired to fly away into the vastness
of the infinite skies of a thousand worlds over the silver oceans that
glittered as if the stars are floating into the water. This is how she would
often describe whatever caught her desire. She never did write about one
particular nature and world but always mentioned multiple ideas of the land and
realms that could exist. At first I thought she just meant it in a rhetorical
way or she was trying to persuade me to form an abstract idea of her
perceptions. At times I even thought if she doing any hallucinating drugs which
became a concerning thought for me and which she denied in jest.
In the past few days, the thought
of Emily’s family had been disturbing me a lot. I wanted to ask her about it
but since she never mentioned it I never tried on my behalf to enquire. Maybe
because somewhere deep inside I was afraid of losing the bound I shared with her and she knew it. When
I was about to leave Goa she told me she will accept my friendship only if it
was on her terms and there wasn’t any chance for negotiations. I was not
allowed to look for her or enquire about her and not even to come looking for
her no matter how compulsive and impatient my heart makes me feel. She had
literally warned me that ever I came back looking for her she will know it and
will never speak to me. So I never did. And though there was an air of certain
mystery around the whole situation I never really tried to persuade the feeling
of mistrust towards her.
What Emily and I had was more
than any words of love and friendship can ever describe and no matter how
strange and vague it may sound to everyone else I knew that it was real. We were not in a love relationship but we carried a bond which was no less than
what a man and a woman are entitled to be in if they like each other. We shared
with each other our deepest desires and our most haunting fears, our tainted
secrets and cheesy jokes. We had built our own world with those letters in
which we could wander off from the usual trails into the mystic woods and grasslands to the
mountains and caves. There was everything I could have wished for. That image
of her when I saw her last time is like forever itched in my memory and she
continues to dwell in my mind even after years have passed.
The last time I saw her she wore
a white floral dress with blue flowers printed on it. She always wore the white
at least every time I met her for the remaining 3 days in Goa. I never tried to
ask her the reason because she looked beautiful in it. Her splendid hair would
look like as if they could summon the winds of the seas and as they fell upon her
perfectly chiselled face as the wind blew. She would always wear a flower in her hair to
compliment the ones on the dress she wore any particular day and a bracelet of
white shells and gold. Emily loved listening to Nick Drake and told me how she
felt bad about him never gaining spotlight as long as he was alive. She loved
Neil Young, Eddie Vedder, Johnny Cash, Fleetwood Mac, The Smiths and David
Bowie. She had never carried off that smile since I stopped her from running
off that cliff and would always greet with a smile that was enough to wear off
all the anxiety at the end of the day. There was something really very exceptional
about her. It would never reflect but it existed like a fresh breath of spring
at her face and like the tranquillity of a summer evening whenever she was
around. The day I was about to leave I gifted her with a tiara made of crystal
jade flower. She was reluctant to accept
it but I convinced her to wear it as a reminder of our uncanny yet beautiful
relationship. For the last time I saw into her blue eyes which reminded me of
the same ocean on whose shores I walked holding her hands to say my last
goodbye. Something tells me she inherited those from her father and I told her
that she feels like a beautiful mermaid to me, trapped in the realm of man. She
laughed it off.
She would always write about
stars and trees, the birds and their songs, the clouds and their shape in each
of her letter. But from the last few days I had grown relentless of her
writings. I was now expecting more from her. There was no doubt about it that I
had nurtured a feeling for her which was more than mutual attraction. She was
perfect in every sense to me and she was all that I wished her to be. I
couldn’t just let go of how I felt about Emily despite of all she had asked me.
Despite her final words which came as a warning, “if I ever tried to look for
her, I will be gone and never will you hear of me”.
And despite of all she warned
about, I decided to take another journey to search for her and for everything
she never told only this time I decided to go without telling anyone where I
was going. On the next day, when I reached Vasco I tried to sneak around the
address where I used to send her the letters. I ended up making a fool out of
myself when two women I met in the street told that the address I was looking
for didn’t exists and neither have they heard of the person I was looking for.
I wasn’t convinced enough and so I decided to do a check in the Public Record
Office. By pulling a few strings I wasn’t granted access to the library where
they kept the records of every known resident of Vasco. I spent the whole day
browsing through thousands of files but couldn’t find any which would lead me
to her. I left the place in disappointment. Finally, I had some suspicion
building up in the back of my head. I questioned the possibility of someone’s
disappearance with no known record of his/her existence and shrouding it with
such a great level of anonymity that no one had ever heard of the person
before. Something tells me there is stuff that doesn’t add up. Nothing made
sense. The day was about to end and I thought to do another reccee around the
block where I was searching before. I kept on walking from door to door,
searching every street and corner, sweating and panting when I finally ended up
exhausted in front of a small yellow house. It was dark and there was no one in
the street only a street light which was flickering occasionally. There was no
nameplate on the gate which could tell me otherwise still I decided to see if
there is anything I could find. I entered the courtyard, knocked a few times on
the door knob but no one answered. I tried to peep through a window to check if
someone was in but there was no one but only a beautiful decorated living room
that was lit by a chandelier in the middle. I had an eerie feeling about all
this but the relentless urge of find the answer to my quest was compelling me
to look for more. Finally I gathered my guts and tried to force myself in
through the window which was unlocked.
The house appeared to be grand
and splendid from the inside. I never thought a place which appeared to be so
old from the outside could be so well maintained and impressively done. The
walls appeared to be newly painted. They were blue and yellow. There was a couch
in the middle of the living room. A small television was kept in front of it
like the one I had at my home some 20 years ago. The floor of the living room
was lined with carpets which looked like hand crafted in some foreign lands.
They carried some kind of inscriptions on them in a language I couldn’t decipher
and the embroidery of fishes and corals on it. I tried to explore more and
moved from the living place to the bedroom. Everything in there was neatly
done, the drapes where tied on the windows and the sheets appeared like they
had never been used. Adjacent to the bed I noticed a small table which had a
drawer. Without any more compulsion I opened it to find an object that left me
struck and staring into the darkness of that drawer where this petite object
was glittering like a lone star in the darkest sky. I picked up the jade tiara
and somehow it felt like I have been thrown back into the past when I first met
Emily. I couldn’t just let go of this anxiety. I searched for some more clues
but there was none except a pink crystal jade tiara, similar to the one
I only gave to Emily. I started to lose my mind as nothing appeared to make
sense. I couldn’t keep a record of time and it felt like I have ended into a
void where the concept of time and space were non-existent. I walked back into the living room and landed
on the couch, tired and confused over the whole situation, Emily’s tiara in my
hand. My eyes went heavy and I ended up lying on the couch itself. I could feel
the breeze of the ocean streaming against my face which felt like a kiss from a
lover and the winds carrying the scent of the ocean with it. The waves blared
across the shores but it sounded like a contentment I derived when I listened
to Emily’s voice. And slowly everything went still and quiet.
I could feel the winds hitting
across my face tenderly. The sunrays appeared to be dancing as my eyes tried to
adjust to the light of late afternoon. I tried to gather my senses and see if
there was anyone around. I tried to draw some conclusion from the fragments of
last night episode. The house was gone. There was not a hint left that could
even tell if it was there. There was a beach down a broken track from where I
just woke up. The cliff reminded me of something or someone from the past. Like
if I had been here before. And then it all began to make sense. But it still
doesn’t add up. The house was real.
Everything I saw it was real. She was real. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I had
been dreaming all this time. I heard someone shouting for me from the beach. It
was Amy. But was she really there? How could she end up here? Or is it really I had been through some weird and vivid
dream? Yes, I had just overslept and had been dreaming. I let a sigh of relief.
But the tiara in my hand tells me otherwise.
