THE JOURNAL

“Mr. Schindler?” a servant entered my room. “Sir, Ms. Emile is here.” “Oh that’s great. Serve her something cold. I’ll be there in few minutes.” I replied whilst going through my papers and typing a letter. “Sir, I am afraid you need to be there immediately. On the contrary to your belief, neither is she in the waiting room nor did she come on her own.” He didn’t have any expressions the whole time. I silently watched him. Seeing my silence he continued “you see sir, she was brought to your rest room by her friend who saw her faint at work today morning. She is conscious now but not at her usual best.” His words trailed away to silence in the room barring the sound of the typewriter.

I took my coat and walked towards the rest room. It was a small room with just one bed and a chair placed perpendicular to it. Being a lover of loneliness, I wanted the room to be that way. As I drew the chair near her I could see the eye lids move to show a pair of eyes which will always remain in my memory until death. “Why don’t you sit here by my side?” She sounded polite with a smile, while her hands were suggestive by directing me to the place near her; but her eyes were pleading. As I moved to the place near her, she rested her head on my lap and immediately those eyes gave a calm look and in moments she was asleep. People we know used to say Emile doesn’t have expressive eyes. I silently smile at them for their inability to look through those eyes. Deep down I know and had realized their expressiveness. It had always shown me her innermost thoughts. I have seen excitement, anxiety, enjoyment, calmness, sadness, peace, and stress in those eyes. These are some of the emotions that a human being experiences. Courage, bravery and willingness have always been the traits of her. They form her strength and weakness. This is one of the main reasons for her to be here.

“Hey give me 1 shot too” these words were said in excitement. What started as “just to taste” turned socializing and now she has reached a stage where it has become a ritual. Every morning I wake from the same dream, the dream in which she faints. Whenever am alone or I see God, she comes to my mind. Am I becoming a good guy by treating this as a mistake? Do I think this as a cultural shock? A big NO comes as the answer. Because deep down I know I have given many cultural shocks to people around me, also this has become common mistake now. May be am a hypocrite. No, I just have an aversion towards it and I want it to be the same for everyone around me. Am I being selfish? Why should I not be? No I can’t as I can’t control everyone’s desire and interests. After all I am not a Gandhi or a Buddha to advice everyone what is right or wrong. I can never become one, as I too have sins. Why does it bother me then? Because I don’t want to have the same dream, because I don’t want to see those eyes faint whenever am alone, because I don’t want to be distracted, because I feel sometimes I too have a heart. Does this attitude of mine change the feeling I have for her? No, because it’s only the mind that gets angry not the heart. As Gandhi used to say, it is only the wrong deeds, I hate of a person not the person on the whole. Why don’t I just neglect this issue? Will I then not fulfill my duty as a friend? What am I supposed to do?