Why? Why? Why?

It was 3:15 pm of 31 May’s afternoon, my birthday; I was frivolously waiting on a platform for a train lest I cannot be prompt on the rendezvous of revel. A few yards ahead there was another platform quite replica of my platform; I gave a cursory look on that platform; an old man was sitting on the bench, mulling over some intense thought. A few yards on the left of the old man there was a couple with two egregious children; children strident playing voice was echoing all over the station, which gave me goose pimples. I tried to avoid them. I steered my eye in another direction, beside the one of the back beams of that platform a couple was embracing themselves, they were enjoying the felicity of young love.

Suddenly, I got transfixed by the dazzling beauty; an angel, a girl or an angel’s angel, whatever! Her face’s glitter was coruscating more than her diamond necklace. Her thick golden hair had tinge of black and crimson. She had dove-eyed with essence of sapphire; her eyes were intense, deep, but quite sad. I had crossed my finger while seeking for her ring finger, I saw a ring, and gave a gasp of satisfaction because it was in her pinkie, aggrandizing her beauty. Her flawless hand was holding a paper. She had mountain legs which clearly exudes her strength. Her feet were naked, bearing the blistering platform which got scorched by afternoon sun; I wished, for two hearts to make a pair of cool pumps for her. Her complexion would easily makes mannequins and models envious. She had donned a short jean and a T-shirt, like those clothing were especially knitted for her. She was paragon of an angel; she did not have a hair out of place.

If she had said me, I could have decimated like saboteurs or decapitated myself; I could have invaded the country and subjugated the people of that country, just think about the rapine and massacre, sanguinary violence! If she had said me, I could have built a more peaceful world; I could be the champion of freedom and justice; I could have made the egalitarian society; I could have built a rapport among peoples of different countries, sects and religions. Just think about the healing peace! I could be her ‘Adolf Hitler’ or ‘Mahatma Gandhi’, if she had said so.

In this ineffaceable transfixed moment of mine, I saw her reading the paper which she had on her flawless hand. Suddenly, I saw tears were trickling down her cheeks, the moment gave me an unbearable agony, but anyhow I managed to endure it and sought for the reason. But, before I could figure out the reason, an unbelievable mishap happened, splash! Boom! Thud! Bloodstain everywhere, gory panorama! She, bonehead, insane moron had thrown herself in front of speeding train. At last transfixed moment of mine broke, within a second there was raucous, stampede, refractory situation; horde besieged the blood disgorging body, a few peoples were shouting for help. Instantly, ‘the paper’, dawned on my mind; I zeroed in myself to find out ‘the paper’. After a few unsuccessful glances, I found ‘the paper’; it was trying to escape from the one of the tormented witnesses’ treading. I caught ‘the paper’, opened it, it stated-

         “I love money, not you .         My love……..oh sorry, my ex-love.

                                                                                                               —  3151991.”

I still could not able to utterly fathom the paper. What in the hell that number ‘ 3151991’ means I don’t know, may be some kind of code or nick name, may be the couples were covert sleuth. God knows, what they are! I tried solemnly to efface this memory, but every time it aggravated my travail, it is besetting me.  There are still a few questions which keeps me in doldrums, why in the hell anybody choose money in lieu of such an angelic beauty? Why she jumped-off the platform? Why I can’t forget her? Why I can’t forget her stupidity? Why that afternoon? Why I am writing about her? Why? Why? Why?

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