January 2012, leaned on that window pane of her tiny apartment in Mumbai, Stuti was sitting with arms hugging her folded shaky legs. A half emptied fine bottle of Smirnoff, 3 cigarettes left in that Marlboro packet, tears were flowing relentlessly, wetting her face and neck; that too since how long, she had no idea. The point had come, she could not stand it more, and the pain in her heart had made her dead cold. Having the wildest thought running across her mind, she stood up slowly, looking for a wall to support her trembling legs and started looking for something specifically in her make-up box. After 20 seconds of blurring vision, she could grab a new unused razor from that bag. Fearlessly, she took the same position near that window.
Not looking at the target, she cut her ankle deep with her shuddering left hand and then slowly let the razor fall on the floor. She could feel no pain but a pleasure and a real pleasure hurting herself. Blood drenching her ankle, her foot and then painted the white marble floor in the most vibrant color. She could feel her body all drained out of blood and vodka taking its’ place; running through her arteries and veins. She smiled to herself out of that pain as Anant’s voice was echoing in her head, when he called her last time, eight months back.
‘This is what you really want; money, career, glamour I mean nothing to you; our love means nothing to you. I want a simple girl who listens to me, who loves me, who can sacrifice for our love. You are not the one. I made a mistake, I chose a wrong girl. A girl like you doesn’t deserve my love, you don’t deserve me’, he was shouting at his peak on the call.
‘Listen to me Anant, why you comparing yourself with this practical stuff, you know I love you. Acting is my passion and I do it because I love to do it, not because I want glamor and money. I wanted to do that play because the character fascinated me. It had nothing to do with real life and the person I was romancing with, in the play. Why don’t you understand?’
‘I very well-understood Stuti, I know, you are not the one. You don’t respect me; you don’t respect my decisions. I did everything to be with you but all in vain’
‘Why would I need to respect you Anant, when I love you? Can’t you just accept me as I am and with everything I want to do?’
‘Hah! You love me Stuti??? I have sacrificed so many things for you. People sacrifice their lives in love and you can’t let go this filthy theater. I told you hundreds of times; I don’t like you to do all this nonsense. You know something, I used to love a simple girl from that small village of Kerala who had innocent dreams and who used to love me a lot since our childhood. But I guess she died long back or you killed her, I don’t know. But guess what? I don’t know you and I don’t want to anymore. So goodbye and everything is over and believe me when I say EVERYTHING IS OVER.’ these were Anant’s last words before disconnecting the call.
‘Why one has to sacrifice to prove one’s love? Why couldn’t we just love each other without sacrificing for each other? I love him but I never understood where I did wrong; I just loved my dreams and my passion which makes me complete. I have gained so much; but I am not happy. But, will I be happy leaving my passion for my love. Is this only love which I want to be happy, to be complete? He had argued several times with his orthodox parents who didn’t accept me, a girl from different caste. He hadn’t visited his home after the day his father abused me out of frustration. I know he loves me like nobody can. He denies but he knows that I love him. Then why we are apart? Why none of us want to leave our ego and embrace the selfless love.’ Stuti was asking the same questions to herself and to Anant in her alcoholic hallucination for like millionth of time. Sleepy, dreamy and hallucinating Stuti tied a scarf around her ankle and lit another cigarette. Leaned on the same window pane, she couldn’t realize when her quizzical, exhausted eyes fell asleep, without giving any solution for her happiness.