RED LINE

Green colored leaves and pink flowers and under them, we stand. The evening setting sun had smeared the sky with some crimson. And we two looked at the same direction, completely lost in our own thoughts. The breeze waved our hair and the loose corners of the clothes.

A togetherness of six years with each other had given the necessary understanding to understand each one's silence and we could read the meaning of the movement of each one’s eyes. Now she turned her face towards me. She looked into my eyes and I into her and felt that the time that we had enjoyed together make a golden period of our lives.

She hugged me and showed a line on her palm and smilingly told, “This line will take me overseas. I am destined to move half of the globe.”  I held her palms and kissed her.

In the next few months, she married a manager of a multinational financial institute, and, as she believed, that line on her palm took her beyond the seas.

Now I stood alone where once we used to stand together and I looked into my palm but I could not find such a line on it. I missed that line; I missed her too. I missed her hands, her lips, her smiles and her dreamy imagination to go abroad.

The sun was about to set in the west. The birds returned their nest. The approaching night enveloped the earth in darkness and I returned to my rented room. I lay down on the bed and could see how that line took her far away and now it turns out to be a RED LINE for me-a reminder not to cross it in any case because she is not mine.