the dilemma of one's work and emotions.
It began. Another day on the streets. I remember performing Mr. Mime's Love, my personal favorite. Everything went on as usual. The act went as usual, Julianne, my beloved, coordinated as usual, the people loved it as usual, applauded as usual, threw their money as usual. By now we had gathered enough to prepare for our anniversary.
On our way back home, Julianne insisted on having a picture of me by the bridge. She had this kind of personal gallery filled with my pictures, at different places, evoking different emotions. This particular picture of me by the bridge, expressed the lover inside me, whom she found to be irresistible. But for a change, I forced her to have her picture clicked. At first she denied but then gave up on me and stood by the bridge. Oh my! How beautiful and innocent, certainly God's finest creations, as thought to myself when suddenly, she vanished from the frame of the camera.
The camera. It slipped off my shivering hands. I found it difficult to turn my head.....but I did. I saw.....but didn't believe it. Julianne, my beloved, lay helplessly on the road. The car had stopped a couple of meters beyond her. I hoped that the car would open and she would be taken off to the hospital.....I hoped. But the driver looked towards me and drove off seconds later. I rushed towards Julianne. She lay helplessly, covered in blood. She could hardly move but held my hands, kissed and.....
I stood by the tombstone, saw them burying her. But it wasn't only her that was buried. My happiness, my life, even a part of my self went into the on that day. My profession didn't allow me to use words, but only actions. But at this point of time, even actions couldn't tell the pain and sorrow I felt. I had already entered the gates of Depression. Couldn't tell the difference between the real and the unreal.
A new dawn. I woke up to realize it was our anniversary. That auspicious day. But Julianne was nowhere to be seen. I searched through the halls, the kitchens, the attic and every corner that I could. But she was nowhere. Darling, a voice that delighted my ears, suddenly came out from the lawn. I went and there she was. Dangling like a daisy during summer. We hugged each other, wished each other and enjoyed the most joyful time of our lives together.
But the world and all the people in it. Staring at us with those pathetic eyes of theirs. But I ignored. At dusk, we went out for dinner to celebrate. But the staring didn't stop. It followed us even as we walked through the beach. So I finally came back home with Julianne. That was enough staring for the day.
The knock. Loud, continuous, irritating and quiet early the next morning. It was the officer. Said he had found the driver and needed my testimony in the court. I agreed. But Julianne was nowhere to be seen, again. She wasn't in the lawn either.Must have gone to fill up the groceries.
In the court. I stood right across him, the driver, terrified and ashamed, exactly as that day. I gave my testimony and the judge give his verdict. He was dragged out to the prison. While I was returning, I saw Julianne by the gates of the graveyard. I called out to her but the officer said she was gone. It wasn't true. I followed her. She stopped by the tombstone. I just didn't want to read the label on it.
The truth. Bitter , sad and unacceptable. Julianne, my beloved, was gone. Those pathetic eyes, those people and the world weren't staring but believing that I was still doing my job, still miming. My emotions were mistaken for my work. The clapped and they went. But I was there. I wept. And I wept till there wasn't enough to weep for.
Night had passed. Dawn had arrived. And there she stood. Julianne, my beloved, calling out to me. I held her hand, walked away with her and had one last look behind. At myself, lying by the tombstone. It ended.