A Thing of the Past(?)
The face and body of Ram has long evaded me. Consciously or sub-consciously, his image has become a thing of the past, which I think is for good. However, whenever his face or even the idea of him strikes back, is when the mind starts spinning in some unknown direction. And mostly, the central question is ‘Why?’ Why after so long? Why does his face or his memory still stir something in me? And why was it that this morning he came in my dream, in the same way he used to come on to me ten years back? The dream, or what I recall of it, was extremely brief. As of now, I recall a room, similar to my room in my home in Lucknow, although painted in the earlier sky blue colour. What I distinctly recall is his bare body, going up and down on me. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him. That dotted-pigmented skin, that lean figure, but that resolute force. I cannot picture where his hands are. It’s only his head and his body that I recall now. It’s positioned in a way so as to resemble