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The Wind by Elsa Thomas

July 15, 2014

The Wind 


I belong to a middle class family. I live in Mumbai with my family comprising of my parents and little sister. I had nothing special in my life. It was ordinary. We followed a modest lifestyle but in spite of all the troubles they had to face, our parents sent us to one of the best schools in Mumbai. After completing my schooling, I went on to study at the university. My college was located in one of the most beautiful suburbs in Mumbai. It was home to the elite class. Celebrity homes and the sea decorated the suburb. I loved my college. I loved every aspect of it. The locality, the crowd, their culture, their lifestyle, and the kind of music they loved listening to. Slowly, I started being a part of them. 

I spent hours at the local bakery with my friends. The bakery owners were friendly and we spent our time playing the guitar and singing. We roamed on the streets and did almost everything that was essential to have enjoyed a healthy and happening college life. The sea, the rocks, the garden, our auditorium stairs, the canteen and café’s, the roads and the local trains, everything seemed to have been exclusively made for us. I belonged to this gang of seven boys and four girls. All of us were the epitome of friendship. We remained so till we finished our university. We still meet and hang out at the very old bakery. I was a bright student and so were my friends. Our professors loved us. The college was our world and we were the only living creatures in it. Everything is still the same. Even after having completed our college and settled down in our lives, we are still there together. Of course, work and family does keep us a little busy but we do meet. Today all my friends are coming over to dine with me but he won’t be there .He will not join his dear friends this evening. Why? He is no more. 

He was the life of our gang, all happy and chirpy. His smile expressed more than anything that words could define. He smiled at all, lived life to the fullest. He never frowned at anyone. He was game to all the pranks that we were up to and made sure that they worked well. He cared for us all and was a total charmer. He stood by us at all times. He was us and we were all in him. 

He was more than a friend to me. He was my brother. We were not blood relatives but there was something that bound us together. He loved to talk. I was his listener, his patient listener. He spoke of anything and everything. He never censored any of his contents because he knew I would never get judgmental. I used to wait at the bus stop and miss nothing less than seven of the buses that crossed my lane only to be there listening to him. There was a lot of innocence in him. He was simple, pure at heart. I loved him for his love for his family. He loved them in spite of the treatment they meted out to him. I was not aware of such happenings. Never once during our conversations did he mention this to me. I got to know some of the gory details of his life after his death. 

I still remember that afternoon which greeted me with that dreadful news. I could not breathe. My heart skipped a beat or two. “Is he breathing?” was what I asked my friend who was with him at the hospital. No, he wasn’t. I knew what had happened. I knew the reason behind what he had done. She left him. She was his everything. Amidst all the problems he faced, there was someone who was his support, his love── his life. She left him amidst all the adversities. She left him all alone, to suffer, to die. I could not hold on and I cried out loud in my house. My heart was with him. 

At the funeral, I saw the entire college turn out to say goodbye to him. She did not turn up. My eyes were searching for her. His words echoed in my ears, “She is the first girl to have entered my life and she will be the last one too.” So true, I thought to myself. I do not remember crying that bad for any reason. I lost control of myself and cried on my friends shoulder. He held me tight as I saw his kin bring him into the church. How handsome he looked! In the coffin, dressed in a black suit and adorned with flowers, he looked nothing less than an angel from the heavens above. Our gang went up the stage to look at our dear friend for one last time. I touched his forehead. It was cold. Even today, after so many years, I feel the chill on my fingers. I watched him being buried. I could not bear it and ran back to the church. 

I felt something unusual there. I felt somebody sit beside me as I cried with my face buried in my arms. I had just one question in my mind, why did he not tell me? Why did he hide his pain from me? I knew of almost everything. Then why could he not tell me? A phone call, a message, an email? I was there for him and he knew that, then why? I looked up to find no one. Just then a wind blew. I touched my hair. It made me feel like somebody was playing with it. I could feel the presence and I knew what it was. It was him. Yes, it was him. My friend, my brother.

Sometimes, all that one needs is that little portion of love, support and care. She deprived him of his share. At times that is all one needs to face the storm of life. We just need that helping hand. A little bit of love and a little bit of selflessness. 

Today after five years, on the anniversary of that fateful day, my friends and I went to his resting place. We visit his grave on his birthday and his death anniversary every year. Even today I felt that presence and that wind blow my hair. I knew it was him. I look forward to meeting him there. Physical presence does matter but I prefer this invisible connect that we share. It is better than a total cut off. No, I am not afraid of these supernatural aspects because I love my brother and I know that he is happy to see his friends there, still in love with him and his forever. Brother, I love you. I do not know if we have second lives but if something like that exists, I want to be born as your sister. I want to listen to you talk. I want to talk to you. I want to be there for you.

Copyright 2014 Elsa Thomas

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  1. Kiran permalink

    I’m smiling and I can still feel the goose bumps. This was so simple yet beautiful. The narrative was heart-rending. All I can say after this is…thank you. 😀

    • Elsa Thomas permalink

      Thank you Kiran. I am glad you liked it.

  2. Varun Jacob permalink

    This story was elegant and hauntingly beautiful…..keep up the good work 😀

    • Elsa Thomas permalink

      Thank you Varun. I will try my best to do that.

  3. Harish Karat permalink

    Elsa …. lot of things happen with every one in life…. but able to share it in words is some thing not every one can….. u have done a good job….. can feel your love for your friend….. this is what keeps the life going…… may god bless you and fulfill your desire to be born as his sister in next birth….
    Harish Karat.

    • Elsa Thomas permalink

      Thank you Harish uncle. This is something I really want. Thank you for the appreciation.

  4. Agree with Varun above….elegant….and vivid, poignant, lovely. Peace to you….

  5. Vaibhav Chaturvedi permalink

    an amazing heart touching story
    well expressed n well wrote Elsa! (Y) keep it up would be waiting for some more stories from u now 🙂

    • Elsa Thomas permalink

      Thank you Vaibhav. I assure you some really nice stories.

  6. Benita George permalink

    Beautifully written… While I was reading, I dnt know if it was tears of happiness that you wrote this or tears of pain that I still miss my brother and relate to most of the things you have mentioned in this article. I appreciate that you wrote this… This will be the best article ever read.. Thank you Elsa.

    • Elsa Thomas permalink

      Thank you Benita. You can relate to it better. Thank you and yes promise made

  7. Sandhya Ramachandran permalink

    Elegant completely touched… Expressing your emotions in the right words require great talent Elsa. Keep up the good work.

  8. A very touching tale, with so much truth in it. We never let go of the ones we have loved, and they, in turn, never leave us entirely.

    • Elsa Thomas permalink

      Very true. They remain in us. They do not really leave. Thank you for the kind words.

  9. wow your words are very powerful. You are a most excellent writer hon. I love your posts.

  10. Thank you for visiting my blog. I do hope you will come again. Your story is very poignant.

  11. Reblogged this on bychanceofserendipity and commented:
    Straight from insaneowl 🙂

  12. Kajali Rauna permalink

    Elsa …… beautiful rendition of soulful feelibgs……As I leafed through the lines I cried for HIM….. happy to have known him. When u have loved once. ……. its forever. Death can never take anyone away….. and yes …. let the euphoric wind blow.

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