The way love story should end

a poem by Chetan Bhatia

Together we both grew up,
In friendship and in love;
My world was a paradise,
Bliss in my life was God sent from above.

Her love was my only happiness,
No other joy blossomed my heart anymore,
Even it did, it wasn’t the same;
Unfortunately it wasn’t the case for her,
More than me,
She loved wealth and fame;
Than being a world to someone,
She wanted the world to know her name.

Like a shy boy of 19,
To her I went and propose;
With few jumbled up words in my heart,
I carried a gold platted ring,
And a beautiful red rose;
Either the day was bad,
Or my destiny was cursed,
Between me and fame,
It wasn’t me she chose.

I cried and cribbed,
From this heart blow;
I made up my mind,
Of what seeds to sow;
I will become a star,
To revenge her ‘no’
She made a blunder,
To her I will show.

I decided to go out and do something,
Which no man has ever done;
To win accolades and applause,
What no man has ever won;
To discover new frontiers,
I set out at dawn,
In the direction of the rising sun.

With seven camels marching ahead,
3 potters and 2 guides added to the force;
Acting as a leader and forgetting my ache,
With a stern voice I directed the course.

As my caravan walked out of the town,
Dressed in black friends and strangers mourn;
On both sides of the road tears were shed,
In every soul, beating heart was torn.

Death awaits you,
Friends and relatives cried in unison,
Don’t throw yourself to the merciless jaws;
But I knew what I was doing,
So I walked ahead as determined I was.

I knew success would touch my feet,
For I have all the courage I could pack;
With thousand heavy steps toward the destination,
And a not a single one turning back.

After struggling for 3 days in the desert,
We still kept going,
We didn’t plan for contingency,
As water for all of us didn’t suffice.

When four died of thirst,
We still kept going,
Already I had committed a blunder,
Already I had paid a price.

Just because someone broke my heart,
I took so many lives,
But what could I do,
I had no choice.
After falling for a heart breaking love,
After walking into the mouth of death,
The only way I see in my life,
Is to go up, up and rise.

Just two of us were now left,
And we kept following our map,
The map itself was a gamble,
Like putting your life on the game of dice.

Then we discovered a set of footsteps,
Leading to some place somewhere,
In the middle of nowhere,
Sign of habitation made us feel hopeful and nice.

After following the footsteps for thirty hours,
My last mate died of fatigue,
We were following our own footsteps,
We were circling a mud tomb,
Very late into the day, I realize.

In the big dry desert,
Everything looks so similar,
All my knowledge couldn’t save me,
For I lost to the desert’s disguise.

So I decided to change path,
And follow the route of intuition,
Luck favored me,
And I couldn’t believe my eyes.

I just discovered a graveyard,
A graveyard of a lost world,
The culture lives to prevail,
Even if civilization dies.

Victorious as I was,
Discovering the lost chapter of history,
So the whole legend was true,
And not a pack of lies.

This city of Buddha is evidence,
Of a link between east and west,
There existed a silk route,
Through which also traversed sugar and spice.

Standing in midst of these ruins,
Filled me with pride and joy,
Like a prince of a kingdom,
Kingdom of a newly discovered paradise.

Achieving success on what I set for,
Inflated me with respect and pride;
Now I can show off my worth to her,
And make her feel sorry about my proposal,
The one she could have abide;
And go mock on her face,
Ha! I became a star,
And you thought I had died.

This is the same me for whom,
Once the whole world pitied and cried;
Now they will follow my footsteps,
Like rats follow the piper-pied.

I was given a hero’s welcome,
When I went back to my hometown;
Tears ornamented my eyes,
When my head was decorated with an honorary crown.

With such an important discovery,
I had opened a xob arodnap;
The world will discover the silk route,
For which I made the initial road map.

By the time I reached to her,
She was already someone else’s bride;
I don’t love her anymore,
To my heart I lied.

I have ended the affair,
Put a full stop to the love story;
Now I will begin a new legend,
Legend of my own glory.

Found the origin of river Sindhu,
Discovered the Tibet’s trans-him;
I reduced the history and geography of the world,
To my fancy and whim.

I will be part of history,
For the world history is nothing,
But the history of few great men;
I will rewrite the geography,
The modern world will thank me,
As I sketch the world with my drawing pen.

One-third of the earth’s circumference,
Around the world I tread;
Discovered twice the area of U.S.A.,
Before I rest on my deathbed.

My legend is a fairy tale,
Where no plot lack;
With thousand heavy steps toward the destination,
And a not a single one turning back.

Then came the world war,
And since I belong to Stockholm;
Germany- a scientific Aryan community,
Was close to my heart,
And near to my home.

So I took their side,
With them we were strongly built;
Although we lost the war,
I accept defeat,
And whatsoever I had no guilt.

In the Europe, Allies came to power,
They stripped me off from all the respect and honor;
All my medals were taken away,
I was thrown away in the society’s dirty corner.

Then one fine day,
She returned, now a mother of three;
A marriage of old love,
That is what she proposed to me.

She did what she should have done,
Many many years ago;
I felt tempted by her proposal,
But I controlled myself through out the whole fiasco.

I smiled with pain,
Uttered few words of philosophy,
What happened has happened,
And the life should go on and on,
All this from a heart with a deep crack;
With thousand heavy steps toward the destination,
And a not a single one turning back.

Then came the Second World War,
Hitler inspired me a lot;
I became his war correspondent,
I served him till I was caught.

But his troops were strong as ever,
Awed by the way they attack;
Like thousand heavy steps toward the destination,
And a not a single one turning back.

My last leg of life,
Was spent in a war-prison;
I made some wrong choices,
But I achieved my mission;
And the world now lives,
On what I first saw in my vision.

I am old and sick,
In her memory, every night I weep;
At the age of 74,
Death met me in my sleep.

I didn’t fear the death,
Although it was dark and black;
I have to go where I have to go,
With thousand heavy steps toward the destination,
And a not a single one turning back.

I was dead and gone,
My house was looted,
And pockets were emptied,
By my loyal and faithful staff,
From the left front pocket,
Came out her, old, black and white, photograph.

On it was written,
‘You were the only one,
I love and care’
‘You were the only one,
All the honors, with whom, I share’
‘In all my expeditions,
With me, you were all was there’