Love Betrayed In Leh

Dear stranger,

By the time you read this, I will be long gone. Gone, not with the wind, but with the fear of oblivion. I am not shedding tears as I use a pen for the last time. I am shedding blood. Blood that flows free, from the wound that my heart has borne all this while. I am a living corpse of shame. Shame that shrouds like skin, refusing to wear off. The mountains of Leh can’t dilute my sorrow.

It was February the 8^th, a year before. The hues of sunset filtering through the glass panes that line the walls adjoining the staircases, failed to enchant me as I walked down. I was dazed and disoriented, for the schedule at my new college had started weighing down on me. Books in my hand, and music filled my ears. I saw a boy of my age, with spectacles like Potter’s, nose-deep in a book sitting on the bench. His face was obscured by the cover of the book, probably a Sheldon. Through the glasses, and over the book edge, he returned my gaze, as our eyes met for the first time. I have always been a hot-headed, career-focused girl. Love was nothing but a casino gamble, in the pages of my life’s diary.

I came across the same boy, day after day, nose-buried in a different book each day. One fateful day, I was fortunate enough to see his face, for he was dozing with his head, down on the bench. I mustered up the courage, and walked up to him. His face had high cut-angles, yet was cute. Neither the handsome hunk nor the college nerd, he was a symmetry. I picked up the book, that had fallen from his drooping hands onto the soil. ‘Fault in Our Stars’ was my favourite too. I called out to him. He didn’t wake up. I was dead tired, so I kept the book beside his head on the bench, and walked away. A few steps further I had taken, my palm was pulled by his. Alas, I was trapped. So was he. He just asked my name and muttered a thanks. Whoa, this was the same guy who had been talking with me on Facebook since months, as a closer analysis of his face revealed. That was the beginning.

I’ll skip the multitudes of moments. I don’t want to share them with you. You will hate me with disgust, by the time you reach the end. Maybe, I will earn more of your bad wishes. Suits me.

Fast forwarding to February the 14^th, the day of Valentine. He saw me, walking arm in arm with another man, in the garden. His eyes bored into me, as I locked my lips with my boyfriend. Yet I did not feel slightest of regret then. He was a numbskull. Idiotic moron. That was all that I could think of him then. Yes, I had broken up with him for no reason. Because he was outpaced by the world. I had upgraded myself, with his help. And I felt no shame in abandoning him.

I was on board a Force traveller, on a trip to Leh a day ago.  Leh is all about mountains. That makes my task easier. Chuck it. My boyfriend and three of his friends were accompanying me on the trip. A twelve seated traveller it was, with seven unknown men in the same vehicle. I had managed to pursue a girl, to accompany me too.

The hour was close to six in the morning. The sun hadn’t yet started rising. I was drunk, so were my male comrades. I was half awake, when the vehicle screeched to a halt. Through the misty panes of the window, I could see an old dilapidated building a few paces away from the main road.  I was sitting behind the driver. All I could see through my half-opened eyes was a pistol barrel boring into the driver’s head. The latch clicked. The silencer numbed the sound. The driver was gone. The assassin was one of the friends, of my boyfriend. To my horrendous surprise, my boyfriend was bleeding by the neck, with mouth wide open. I was dragged out of the vehicle by two men, with scarves draped on their face. Through eyes of horror I could see the girl and the third guy murdered, with faces agape.

The same guys that dined with me last night were now holding me, as I struggled to get out of their grasp. They were burly. I was carried into a field nearby. My luscious body was revealed to the eyes of men, hungry with lust, as my clothes were torn apart by the muscular hands of theirs. My squeal was deafening, as my virginity was breached with brute force. I was helpless and sobbing.

The man who was engrossed in enjoying the sexual pleasures my body offered with his tongue, was beaten heads-on. I could see through the tear filled eyes, a man standing with a cane in his hand. His face was obscured beneath a hood. I can’t remember the details anymore. I went unconscious. The only thing I can remember is men fighting and a bullet sound. I could hear a familiar voice, though my subconscious mind, numbed by pain couldn’t recognise it.

The next thing, my eyes saw were the bodies of nine, strewn around me. I woke up, rubbed my eyes in disbelief. I could see that those bastards had wrapped me in my boyfriend’s blood-draped jacket, after violating me. Leaving me alone on the edge of a cliff. My lower innards are numb with pain, blood all over my thighs. I turned my head to see the same hooded guy, face-down on the ground though close-by. I dragged my heavy body, up to the hooded corpse. I raised the hood. Pulled his hair. Saw the face, of the man whom I had abandoned, in the path to love. A hole in his forehead, spewed blood onto my face.

Spears of sorrow brutally breached my heart, as I broke down, sobbing. Sobbing for the first time for a person. I couldn’t sob. He boarded the same traveller as me, died protecting me.

And here I am. Standing on the edge of the cliff. Nine bodies behind me. I was fortunate to find a piece of paper and a pen in my boyfriend’s jacket. The jacket I shredded seconds ago.

Here I am falling in mid-air, bereft of clothes, humanity or dignity, feeling remorse for the numbskull. I left that blood-soaked jacket above.

Loath me.

Hate me.

Don’t forgive me.

But don’t betray me.

Be faithful.

Be loved.

Above all, Love.