THE LAST WALK. Another set of messed up memories rarely allowed Shamant the liberty to think differently. The memories still hold him to ransom and have differing effects every day. In the late eighties, he was in Mumbai on a shooting assignment for a well-known fabric brand. Surprisingly, it was the 4th shoot where Shristi was the model.
Shamant and Shristi had clicked from the first shoot, and they kept in touch. And by the 4th shoot, Shristi, who would later do a few movies in Bollywood, was more than a friend to Shamant.
Whenever Shamant came to Mumbai, Shristi would join him for those peaceful walks by the queen’s necklace. She lived in Colaba, south Mumbai. She was successful but not happy. A college dropout, she focussed on her budding modelling career.
She knew modelling was a short career, and it gave birth to her insecurities about the future. Shamant always tried to show her the brighter side of life, and when she was with him, she smiled. A smile that hid her tears and pain.
Shamant and Shristi stayed back for the sunset walk along the beach after shooting at mud island. She was a lot happier that day. The smile seemed genuine, and she was smiling with her eyes. She wanted to share something with him. She was now 21, and it was her birthday.
The innocent girl was now an adult, and technically free to take her life decisions. She could leave the house and family that depressed her, restart her education if she wanted, and fall in love with the man she wanted. She was free. Shamant enjoyed her new bubbly self and loved her being at peace. She then turned towards him and tried to look in his eyes, trying to read him. She held him for far too long, and then Shamant heard her softly say, ‘Will you marry me.
It was unexpected, and Shamant knew the answer – a soft NO, and he told her why. She accepted it as a fact but continued to hold his hand. There were no tears, and both decided to remain friends. For them, the conversation had never happened. However, that was the last walk they walked together. The spark had died, and she closed her fears from him and never again surrounded him with her mounting insecurities. Somewhere along the way, she fell in love. Shamant was happy for his friend.
The happiness was short-lived. A year after her first movie, a small story in the newspaper told Shamant that his Shristi had committed suicide. That day he wept and thought of the unanswered calls, unopened letters and the walk that would never happen. A part of Shamant died that day. He felt responsible for her death, and the memories got buried with time until today.
Today in a small town in Uttar Pradesh, Shamant saw the cassette of her movie. She was smiling and staring at him. The movie that played in his mind was the last walk they walked together. He saw her smile, raise herself and air-kissed the lips that were not there.
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