The BRIDGE OF HER DREAMS

The BRIDGE OF HER DREAMS

FROM

The bridge of her dreams

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QK117J6

The wind was frosty but rejuvenating. She smiled happily and touched the wooden railing of the bridge stretched across the deep gorge. Its rough texture tickled her palms like bark of an old tree.

She looked down grabbing the railing firmly.

She could see the silver water of the river sparkling through the veil of mist like a silver ribbon or sari will be more appropriate term- a synthetic sari sparkling.

She gripped the railing and moved forth on the wooden bridge swaying gently with her movement. By the time she reached the middle of the bridge she could no longer see what was one foot away from her, the mist became a deep fog. She felt like she was walking inside a land of milky darkness. Her only strength was the firm hold on the railing.

The alarm rang shrilly and she woke up.

She has been having this dream for years. The same wooden bridge stretched across a deep gorge. She has stood on the bridge and seen the steep hill on her side of the bridge- it went almost straight to the valley below, where that river was flowing. The other side stayed elusive she could never make it to the other side. One reason or the other woke her up before that.

May be, I will someday! Before I die I will see what is on the other side of that bridge! She thought to herself as she stretched and yawned trying to steal a few more minutes in bed before rushing forth to everyday life.

“Chitralekha!” her boss called out to her. She dropped her bag on her desk and headed for his chamber. “Congratulations!” he stretched out his hand, “Your prayers have been answered!”

She felt bit strange as the thought of her morning wish flashed in her mind when she reached out for the envelope.

“Sit down!” he gestured to the seat across his.

She sat down and opened the envelope, for two years she has been requesting a university in Kashmir to let her join their two month course of local woodcraft, it has been finally accepted. She could barely suppress the big grin that instantly showed up on her beautiful face.

“Hope you have enough woolens.” Her boss laughed when he saw her grin. She nodded.

Chitralekha was on her flight to Srinagar next Monday. A car was waiting for her on the airport. It was ten hour journey to the college.

“We are almost there madam!” The driver’s eyes were glued to the road. His hands were firmly gripping the steering. On one side there was rocky body of the hill. One after the other huge rocks were left behind as the car moved forward, on the other side was deadly slopes. They were climbing higher and higher.

“The college is right across the bridge.” He remarked as the car eased its way in a bridge.

The day was full of sunshine and light. She turned her face to look down at the river they were crossing and then lifted her eyes. There was a bridge a little distance away from theirs. A wooden bridge just like the one of her dreams!

“Where does that bridge go?” she asked her heart beating a bit faster. It looked so familiar!

“That’s the old bridge to the college, when there were no cars people used it to get there. No one uses that now but the kids from college, outsiders use this bridge.”

“Why?”

“It’s haunted, the ghost of a woman haunts it people say!” He said, “I have never seen her. Then I never had the chance of using it. But the students or the employees who have tried crossing it during night hours vow that they have seen her walking on it, and sometimes walking through them! Those who live in the rooms that have windows facing towards that bridge see her too.” he chuckled a little, “She does not harms anyone but who wants to see a ghost or enjoy one walking through one?”

She thought to herself that she will check it out later.

He dropped her at the office and drove off.

She started climbing the stairs to the principal’s chamber. A group of students were coming down the stairs. She stopped one of them to ask the directions. She heard a muffled sound and turned to face another girl of the group, she was staring at her with eyes bulging with fear!

She looked away and thanked the girl for the directions and resumed the climb when she heard a muffled, agitated voice- “Did you see that woman? She looks just like that ghost of the bridge!”

“Come on Tamanna!” she heard another voice reprimanding her in a hushed tone.

“She does!” the voice rose a little defiantly. “I have seen her more than once! My window is right besides that bridge in case you have forgotten Julie!”

“Then it must be her, she must have come down or up to meet you!” Julie giggled and rest of the girls joined her.

She glanced back over her shoulder. The group was standing right where she left them staring at her. They turned away when their eyes met and resumed their descent.

Theirs was not the only stares Chitralekha met on her way to the principal’s office.

She was given a room facing the bridge. The moment she opened the window and looked at it she knew it was that bridge! The only difference was it was broad daylight now, so the bridge looked much battered than her dream.

She longed to take her walk across that bridge but that was not about to happen, not now! Her classes were from two in the afternoon, till seven in the evening.

She returned to her room after eight, after having her dinner in the college canteen. The night was foggy. She decided that she will be up early and check out the bridge.

A soft voice woke her up … Abida…. It was very soft but very clear, as if the speaker was in her room.

She looked around, the door was bolted from inside, windows were secured with sturdy grills and she was the only one in room. Moonlight was bathing the room, from one corner to the other so there was no chance of missing the speaker if she was here.

Abida… you are back my child!

This time the voice was clearer, as if the speaker was speaking in her ear. She felt a chilling wisp of wind brushing her cheek. She flicked on the light and kept it on for the rest of the night.

The voice or whatever it was stopped after the light was switched on. She got up early, naturally and decided that it was time for her to check out the other side of the bridge.

She started walking, a very thin veil of mist was there but that only enhanced the beauty of the surroundings. She could see the river below and the hills on both sides through that beautiful veil. Sun was not up yet. She crossed the bridge!

It ended in the garden of a mansion. An old mansion- seemed at least a few hundred years old. The garden was well maintained and roses were blooming all over it. She has never seen such a fantastic variety of roses in real life. She of course have seen pictures and videos but never with her own eyes.

A gardener was working already. No wonder they were so well cared for she thought. The man lifted his head and his eyes widened mouth opened.

Here he goes too… She thought.

“Ya Allah! Are you real?” he exclaimed.

Fantastic she thought. This one is weirder!

“I beg your pardon?” She asked coldly.

“You are!” he muttered. “You are alive! You came back to your home Abida!”

“My name is not Abida.” She said walking a few steps backwards. But the man leaped forward and stood almost nose to nose, staring at her.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“That is none of your business!” she was scared and angry now.

“Please! Answer me!” He begged.

Chitralekha felt sorry for him, maybe he is crazy but seemed harmless.

“Twenty one years.” She said.

“Where are your parents?” He asked.

“I am orphan.” She said losing temper again. But the expression on that man’s face prevented her from getting rude. His eyes were almost moist with tears.

“Have you seen your parents ever?” He asked. “Did they die recently?”

“No I was brought up in an orphanage. I was found wandering on Delhi Railway station some seventeen years ago.” She said patiently. For the first time a thin feeling seeped in maybe he is speaking truth and is not crazy just bewildered.

“I knew that it is you my child, my daughter!” the man started crying. He tried to grab her by her shoulders but Chitralekha evaded that and maintained a safe distance.

Chitralekha wondered if she will turn and run towards the bridge but the man appeared so harmless. To be honest, she too was curious now to know what made that man so worked up. He was working with the roses quite peacefully when she showed up. So…

“Come with me!” he begged and she followed him to the mansion. He opened the very first room and they entered. Right opposite to the door was an oil painting- an exact replica of Chitralekha wearing muslim attire.

A huge vase filled with choicest roses told Chitralekha that she was very much missed by the man.

“That is your mother Zeenat begum my wife.” The old man said. “I will never forget that cursed day! You have seen that college on the other side of the bridge?”

“Our ancestors have built it and ran it, still do. I was a professor of Urdu there. Zeenat always brought my lunch there. You too followed her like a shadow! You were such a beautiful angel my darling!”

“A horrible flood was raging that year, I told Zeenat again and again to not come, but she did, and you certainly followed her. A flash flood ripped you both away from that bridge.”

“I thought I have lost both of you but I never saw you, Zeenat comes to me sometimes but you never did. I had a thin hope that you survived.”

“You did my child you did!”

This time Chitralekha allowed him to hug her and a strange feeling of peace filled up her heart when his tears dropped down on her shoulder one after the other.

She truly was home.