“Once upon a time, way back in 2029, a great man had an untimely death. But, before dying, he called his brother and told him his last wish. He told him to bring a particular packet from his locker and leave him alone with it, in his last few moments.
The brother was really curious to know what it was but he couldn’t possible interrupt a person who was rightfully claiming his last wish. Three agonizing hours later, he found out. It was a diary.
It was wrapped neatly in cellophane, like he always did to all his vintage books. He couldn’t help but wonder, what’s written in it. He had never seen him writing, all he ever wrote were cheques. He was so desperate to read what was inside that all his morals and ethics couldn’t stop him from doing so.
“Sorry pal..” he said to his deceased brother, and began peering into the first-hand accounts of some of his brothers most secret and undisclosed experiences.”
“Now kids.. remember, it’s BAD to read somebody’s diary and you should never, and under no circumstances, do such an unscrupulous thing.."
"Anyways, getting back to the story, he opened the diary and found the first few pages were empty and some had random scribbling and sketches in them. Then on a page dated March 17th, he finally found something meaningful..
“I saw a strange girl today. She was quite serious. She was neatly dressed and had a maroon purse. She had in her hands a novel wrapped in newspaper. Now I hate that. If u can spend 500 bucks on an ordealistic novel, then u can very well spend 5 more on a piece of wrapping paper. And that too a newspaper dated 12th September 2006, now that’s more than six months old! Sheesh! But all that apart, one thing stood out about her, that which made her remarkably different from all other girls on the train, and maybe even from all other girls I have ever seen in my life.. She was surrealistically beautiful. I’ve never seen a girl like her before!!”
March 23rd:
“She looks sad. And lonely. She always has this novel in her hand. She always has this pen in the other and keeps marking and scribbling things in it. I mean how boring can you get. Who reads a novel to cut eleven minutes in a train? It’s not like it’s an overnight journey or anything. But still she keeps reading it almost religiously. I think I’m crazy, coz I think I love her. My friends say it’s normal and it’s just an infatuation and with time, will eventually wear off. Whatever it is, but it’s a beautiful feeling…”
July 23rd:
“It’s weird. I mean how long does it take someone to finish off a novel? If you are a slow reader and take even 3 minutes to finish a page then that means in 22 mins. you can read 7 pages. That means u can easily finish it in 50 days. But it’s been four months now… And she doesn’t seem to have finished even half of it. Maybe it’s not so interesting. But then why does she keep on reading it? And weirdest part is that she doesn’t seem to read it in any particular order. Sometimes its half done. Sometimes only a few pages. Sometimes it looks like on the verge of ending but it never does. It’s so damn bugging. I plan to ask her the day she does finish reading it, that which novel was it that took such a beautiful girl like her so long to complete..”
November 7th:
“I think about her like this crazy obsession of sorts. I mean however hard of I try to let go of her I can’t, I just can’t. And it drives me crazy but at the same time it makes me feel so alive. I feel if there is one difference between humans and animals, it’s that although both can love equally well, but only humans can express it in a way that makes the other believe that the sole purpose of their existence was nothing but loving that person back. We all come into this world naked and ignorant and like a deer in the woods, keep running aimlessly, searching for the meaning of life for all of our lives and only when it leaves us stranded in the darkness, that we understand that the true reason of human existence is love.. to love and to be loved.. maybe not by the same person but nevertheless by someone else; and I believe it’s not of great importance to get the person we love and marry them, but of greater importance is to just experience this amazing, out-of-this-world feeling we call love.
I love her and even if she may not know it, ever, but still I just love her. I don’t want to have her with me 24X7 or marry her or anything, basically coz she won’t do it, and I know that, but more so because I don’t want to know her better and in the process find out her shortcomings and flaws, if any. I just want her to be a beautiful, perfect, unparalleled dream, that was lovely, painful, nightmarish, enlightening, obsessive, ardorus, insightful, passionate, and many more such things, that are inherent parts of an experience we call life.. whenever I see her I know I am alive… People go and climb mountains, surf on raging waves, do crazy stunts and what not, just to experience the rush of blood and the exhilaration and excitement of being alive. I happen to get all of it in just a train ride.
The same eleven minutes of a journey that most people find mundane, uneventful and plain boring, were a new experience for me every day. My life is good, what more can I want from it?”
I love her and even if she may not know it, ever, but still I just love her. I don’t want to have her with me 24X7 or marry her or anything, basically coz she won’t do it, and I know that, but more so because I don’t want to know her better and in the process find out her shortcomings and flaws, if any. I just want her to be a beautiful, perfect, unparalleled dream, that was lovely, painful, nightmarish, enlightening, obsessive, ardorus, insightful, passionate, and many more such things, that are inherent parts of an experience we call life.. whenever I see her I know I am alive… People go and climb mountains, surf on raging waves, do crazy stunts and what not, just to experience the rush of blood and the exhilaration and excitement of being alive. I happen to get all of it in just a train ride.
The same eleven minutes of a journey that most people find mundane, uneventful and plain boring, were a new experience for me every day. My life is good, what more can I want from it?”
December 27th:
“I saw her today at the theater.. she was there with a man. He was touching her. Everywhere. I didn’t like it one bit. I felt like killing myself. Even though she didn’t like it one bit, then why didn’t she stop him? I felt like kicking that man in his groin and deprive him forever of his perverted manhood. But how could I. Would she even recognize me? She always seems so engrossed in that novel of hers that I don’t think she would even know if a bomb went off next to her, let alone recognize an ordinary fellow from a crowd of thousands. But still.. I love her..”
January 11th:
“I had such a great chance to talk to her today. My fractured hand was a perfect excuse to sit next to her on the reserved seat. But I screwed it. “No uncle it’s just fine”. Why couldn’t I just tell that guy to bugger off and finally sit next to her like I always wanted to? Damn!! But now I have decided. I will tell her tomorrow. I have to tell her. Coz I am going absolutely mad. After all, how hard can it be? I know she would say no but what the heck. At least it will cure me of this insanity.
But then, do I really want to get cured? Do I really want to end this dream so abruptly and deprive myself of such an amazing array of emotions that I experience every day? Maybe not..”
“I had such a great chance to talk to her today. My fractured hand was a perfect excuse to sit next to her on the reserved seat. But I screwed it. “No uncle it’s just fine”. Why couldn’t I just tell that guy to bugger off and finally sit next to her like I always wanted to? Damn!! But now I have decided. I will tell her tomorrow. I have to tell her. Coz I am going absolutely mad. After all, how hard can it be? I know she would say no but what the heck. At least it will cure me of this insanity.
But then, do I really want to get cured? Do I really want to end this dream so abruptly and deprive myself of such an amazing array of emotions that I experience every day? Maybe not..”
February 28th:
“I finally went and tried to talk to her. She didn’t have the novel today. Her station came and I got down with her. I asked her “I’ve been watching you for the past few days and couldn’t help but notice that novel in your hand. Which one was it?”
She didn’t reply. I tried to prolong the conversation, desperate to get a response.. “How did it take you so long to finish reading a 300-odd page novel?” Still no reply..
“I was thinking.. if you could have a few minutes.. there’s this great place near the station..”
And then she looked towards me with blank, pitiful eyes and all that she said was “Bye” and rushed away…”
And then she looked towards me with blank, pitiful eyes and all that she said was “Bye” and rushed away…”
The following pages were all blank. I was shocked by what I had just read and was hoping I had never read it in the first place. I didn’t know what to do with it and I felt sick, accompanied by a feeling that was a mixture of guilt and grief. I flipped over to the last page, and found something was written there.
It said:
“This girl changed my life forever. She, without saying a single word, taught me the meaning of love and life. So dear brother, please, if you are still reading this, then please find her, and as my last wish, give this diary to her if you do. Do this much for me bro..”
“This girl changed my life forever. She, without saying a single word, taught me the meaning of love and life. So dear brother, please, if you are still reading this, then please find her, and as my last wish, give this diary to her if you do. Do this much for me bro..”
The brother was disgusted with himself and thought that the only way he could reclaim his self-respect, was by fulfilling his brothers last wish. He went to the only store in town that still kept vintage paperback books and asked the keeper if he had some really old ones. He told me that he did get one from a nearby house few days ago. He dint know the purchase date but it was covered in a newspaper dated September 2006. I almost grabbed his collar and asked him to show it.
It was the same. It completely fitted the description. I opened it and found a very strange detail about it: Every single unprinted inch of it, was filled with miniscule handwriting, often incomprehensible due to its age. But I could make out the gist of it. Whatever I could read, went like this:
“I again saw him today. He always takes the same train as me.”
“Today he was at the movies sitting three rows behind me. Every time my client touched me, I could almost hear his fingers tightening and his teeth clenching. I want to tell him but how can I. It would break his heart.”
Some printed lines were repeatedly underlined and highlighted, which were conversations between a bar dancer and her customer. I removed the newspaper covering the book, only after repeatedly reassuring the keeper that I would buy this dilapidated book, and the title was: “Eleven Minutes.. Paulo Cohelo..”
He asked the keeper that who sold it to him. He gave him the address. He went there and saw a woman so beautiful, that it’s worth spending your entire life, just for the sake of those eleven minutes in her company. He told her everything, about his brother, his diary and his last wish. He promised to free her from her demeaning profession, marry her, give her a home, family, children and above all respect."
"And they lived happily ever after…."
***
“Dad.. I couldn’t help wondering, is that old book in your hand the same as that in the story??”
“Well son, how can it be the same? After all.. it’s just a story…”
