Resonance

"I can't put up with grief", she said in a pitch little louder than her usual. I couldn't help notice a quiver in her voice, like it was about to break down. A few minutes back, when she entered the room, she was singing one of my favorite songs. She was a shy singer. Once, she confessed that she did not have a singer's voice, nevertheless, she loved to sing. Often, she sang her heart out, looking at me, which was something she enjoyed the most. That, she had once said, would make her appear more confident, feel more content and look more graceful. And then she would stare at me searching for an acknowledgement of the compliment that she had given to herself.

That day she was looking into her laptop and singing—
Beqarar dil is tarah mile, jis tarah kabhi hum judaa naa the. (Anxious hearts met in such a way, as if we never had gone astray)

The song was interrupted when she stumbled upon an old memory. And then I saw her face change. It illuminated like the rising summer sun, followed by a smile, which was brutally stopped halfway on her face and then it withered away, like a dry autumn leaf, lost in the whirl of wind. 

Her expressions had transitioned from euphoric to thoughtful and then turned wry. I saw her walk slowly and sit on the chair in front of me. She looked at me or rather through me. She seemed to be so far away. All I could do was wait. 

And then she began speaking. She told me how much she loved the people her life. "I want to hold the people I love with these two hands as tight as I can" she said, showing me her hands. "And if that is less, I will embrace them".  She had stretched her arms which made her look like a kid, when she was already sounding like one. Telepathic that she was, she read my mind, put her hands down and restructured her poise.  "I can cope up with sadness but I cannot put up with grief", she said with a shaky voice followed by the explanation of their difference. "Sadness is soothing.  It is like the memories that you hold on to so firmly. You don’t ever want to part with them. It’s the pain of missing someone you loved so much, that you are in love even with that pain. That is sadness. You create it, it grows in you, it belongs to you, you love it and no one can separate it from you. But grief, it is not something you ask for. It’s what comes as an unwanted supplement and is stuck with you for a lifetime. The worst part—you cannot do anything about it". With a large tear rolling down her cheek she completed, "Grief is helplessness".

As much as I wanted to console her, I waited for her to gather herself again. She stood up and walked away. When she came back, she was composed. And she looked at her image and smiled. In resonance we sang-
Tum bhi kho gaye, hum bhi kho gaye, ek raah par chalke do kadam. (You got lost, I got lost too, walking a few steps together)

Singing to her reflection, because that was something she enjoyed the most.