“She woke up wrapped in his arms and his breath
warm and subdued caressed her forehead. The little grin on her face slowly grew
and etched from ear to ear at the mere sight of him sleeping, for all she knew with
deep conviction she was destined to wake up like this for many years to come,
desperately hoping, she clung on to him even tightly.”
She
woke up to the screeching sound of the alarm, dreadfully she made her way
through the sheets below which she lay, she saw him sleeping, envied and
navigated her way through the room to the washroom. She woke her children up,
made the breakfast, packed lunch for everyone. She combed her hair; let it
loose a little (he liked it that way) wore his favorite color sari; she put
on a little face cream not too much that her husband would scowl, but enough to
deepen the intensity of the compliment that would follow which would make her
heart skip a beat.
“So, how do I look?” she would ask.
“You exude radiance; you look like the one of shining
apples from the orchids of Kashmir.”
“She blushed and snapped in curtly, I know!”
She
waited by the phone with bated breath for him to call and pour in the news and
gossip from the office, not to mention the daily praise for the food he ate for
lunch. She clung on to the phone, the speaker digging her ears in a fear that
she might miss out on something. She savored every word of their conversation
off and on the phone, during the day and night.
She
loved the little talks they had at nights, the long walks they took after
supper but dreaded the little quarrels they had at times, fearing that she
might end up waiting the entire day for his phone call the day after. She knew
he fought because he cared, he just chose a different way to show it.
She
wished she could salvage every moment of them being together, fearing they
would perish she wanted to save them all, albeit she knew that she might falter
at one point of time, because life is all about hardships and only few have the
chance to face them all let alone the courage to face them.
And,
then one day the clock struck and the time came to a whining halt. Memories
started breaking down to smithereens, and then they slowly started to fade,
etchings only deepened during the pursuit of letting them not fade; but time
erodes everything, memories were no exception.
The
clinking sound of the alarm broke in through the silence that filled the room,
she dreaded it more than ever, made an attempt to shut it but failed miserably,
she woke up turned it off, looked beside not a single muscle of her face moved,
dauntless she looked around and pulled the bed sheet over her face.
She
looked herself in the mirror and was greeted by a small, frail and
expressionless woman. She picked out a sari randomly and loathed the fact that
she forgot the art of choosing. She let her hair tangle not bothering to comb
it, nor acknowledging the fact that she had to put on a little face cream, for
all she knew the compliments that usually followed ceased to pamper her ears. They
ceased with him.
She
kept herself busy during the day, because she dreaded the fact that being idle
would make her hope for the phone to ring one last time. The long talks, walks
and the little quarrels no longer made her day, but, longing, momentary
satisfaction, and dreading happiness do; dreading because she was guilty of
being a part of it all alone.
The
longing to hold hands, savor his voice, dress for him, laugh with him, to fill
him emotionally and physically elevated with every passing day, and she knew longing was the least she could do to bring back the memories from the past. The past she couldn't defy, the past she couldn't stand up against, the past that she lost him to.
She
no longer radiates, but the etchings and wrinkles have grown too quickly and
have dampened the charm she carried, she still looks like one of the apples
from the orchids of Kashmir, but the one, which will fall at the lightest of
winds.
