The Last Hug

The handshake crushed her. Not just her hands, her whole soul. What could have been a hug remained just at the handshake.The familial touch was missing. The goosebump-inducing touch was now a cold, firm handshake.
'Hug me now, I'm right before you', she was silently crying. But he simply looked past her and walked away.
She lowered her eyes and turned away her face, only to hear the beloved voice call out in the exact same way her name used to be called - "Shona".
She turned immediately, eyes red and tear-rimmed. But no, the hallway was empty. What was happening? Who shook her hand? She tried to remember. It was him. It was definitely him! Or was it?
Dr Mittal opened the door to his chamber, which was one of the doors in the hallway that read 'Senior Psychiatrist'. He called out, 'Sonali, please come in, we'll begin your session. I hope you're feeling better after taking medication for a week.'
'Does the medicine which you prescribed have any side effects, doc?' she enquired, feeling unsure of her entire being now.
'Ah! It's a very strong medicine. It sometimes accompanies a slight headache and sometimes even hallucination in rare cases. That's why I had written very low dosages for you. I think the medicine has worked for you. You look much better today Sonali', Dr Mittal remarked.
'Now let's move to our session. Is there anything specific you'd like to ask or discuss?'
'I met him today, doc', Sonali replied, still looking down as if guilty.
'Where?' Dr Mittal asked calmly.
'Just outside, in the hallway, while I was waiting for my appointment with you.'
'Did you talk to him?'
'I couldn't. I just froze. He just shook my hand and left.' Her eyes welled up. 'I can't take this anymore, doc, no more. I want him so bad. I want us to be together again' she broke into intermittent sobs. 'Enough!' she said and hastily wiped her tears. 'He's mad at me, I'll apologise. He can't deny me. He just can't. I'm his weakness.' A faint smile appeared between her sobs.
'He can't be with you', Dr Mittal said even more calmly.
'Why not?' she asked indignantly. 'What have I done so bad that he would leave me for good? I'll make up to him.'
'He's dead. You're hallucinating, dear. He was bashed to death saving you when the goons attacked. Don't you remember?' Dr Mittal pleaded with her.
'Why aren't you believing me? I just shook hands with him!' she said in a whisper thinking to herself, 'Am I hallucinating now or was I hallucinating then?' and ran out of the doctor's chamber, to catch up to Rohit before he vanished again.

Broken Walking Stick

The lady was in her late thirties. But she looked nothing like it. The courtroom audience assumed she must be around sixty. She looked composed, more like dejected. Not a hint of relief, that justice was going to be met out that day. Through the proceeding, her head was propped up on her left hand, while she gazed at the floor before her, like a fatigued old lady. When all allegations and cross examinations concluded the fate of the convict, she was asked if she had anything to say. She walked with a slight stoop, to the witness stand and took her place. And for the first time, looked at the man across the room in the opposite witness stand and spoke.

“She was only four. She hadn’t learnt to walk one foot before the other. She tottered as if balancing each foot on two parallel lines. She hadn’t caught up with the latest trend of pouting. She opened her thin lips and grinned showing her milk teeth for the camera. She wore an oversized frock, nonetheless. What did you see in her..”, her face was flushed and her voice choked on the last word.

“She was going to be my walking stick after a few years. Instead, I had to bury her in a small coffin. You killed two people that day. What you did to her will flash before my eyes every day, for the rest of my life. It’d have been better had you chosen to assault me and not her. I might not have been alive today. But that little one, who had just begun her life, would have lived to fulfil it. Maybe, I’d have survived. This is an old rugged body, it might have endured your abuse. Then might be I would have taught her forgiveness someday. But now, forgiveness has forsaken me.” Her voice had become a croak. She muffled through the cloth that she kept dabbing her eyes with.

“She would have been twelve this year, and grown to be a compassionate, strong girl. But today, you have snatched all compassion from me. These eight years while you bragged about your conquest over my little girl, I writhed in pain and shuddered at the glance of every person who looked at me a little longer than usual. I had never seen you until this moment. I only knew your name. I didn’t want to put a face on my most excruciating horror.”

“It is not mine to show compassion seeing those tears streaming down your mute face. You grew up a vagabond, never knew who your parents were. Is that even an excuse you offered in pleading not guilty? Nobody is bereft of conscience, my boy. As you can’t stop those tears today, my daughter too must have..” she squeezed her eyes shut, and gripped the bar of witness stand tightly as if saving herself from being overthrown off a precipice.

“I’ll not demand a capital punishment if the court decides otherwise. A life for a life would leave the whole world dead. And your death wouldn’t give life to my daughter. But given the prerogative, I’ll not let you roam the streets free. Else people will get the idea that taking a life in such a brutal manner is not a big issue. And that it can be attempted again and again to satiate one’s lust, and then one can walk away scot-free.”
“Had I been more relieved if this case hadn’t taken eight years? Definitely. Am I satisfied that you’d be finally condemned today? Not exactly. Nothing gives me satisfaction anymore. Nothing gives me hope anymore. My world was crushed and broken that day and nothing has been any better since.” She fell on the floor, wailing inconsolably.


Also published at The Dilettante Author.

The Bride to Be! Part-1

She woke up at half past five. Though the alarm was set at seven and the wedding was at two. This was the day she had been waiting for. In fact, this is the day any girl awaits, with palpating anticipation.

She stretched lazily after the few hours of sleep she had managed, due to the exhaustion. But last night, she had struggled to sleep. She couldn’t stop smiling as she lay on the bed looking around her room for the last time.

Her eyes fell on the bedside table. On it stood a crystal vase with a bunch of wilted, dry roses. It was difficult to say which colour those roses would have been. But the memory of them was as fresh as they once were.

It was the day after he had proposed. He had got her this bunch of fresh, red, half-bloomed roses. She had excitedly taken the bouquet and retorted, it was not Valentine’s yet. To which he had replied, “It’s a valentine’s day, every day, with you in my life. I can’t wait for some bullshit day to show you that I love.” Thus, three years had passed.

They had planned on today’s date from a long time. 17th of April. It used to be her father’s birthday. The thought of him no longer made her funereal. Though, she felt extremely sad, not being able to introduce Rajat to him. Her dad would have been so proud and happy. Though the thought of him never failed to lacerate her, in good and bad times alike, Rajat was her panacea. Now he had become the one she could run to. Whenever, whatever, he was there.

But nothing was same after that night; when she was informed that her family had been the victim of a gruesome accident. She was rushed to the hospital by some neighbours. But her intuition screamed, she wouldn’t be able to talk to her parents and sister anymore. Her world had crashed around her, even before she reached the hospital. And she alone had to bear it.

Her uncle had entered the cold storage room first and confirmed their identities. She barely managed to snoop through the limited confines of a tiny window on the heavy door. Then she nervously entered the morgue. Three bodies were placed side by side. The white sheets covering the corpses were blotted red in places. The room reeked of blood and maybe preservatives too. She had to be carried out by two nurses, and given a couple of band-aids.

A year passed before she rejoined work. Jigyasa, her friend from school had moved in with her, when she came to work in the same city. The melancholies of life had dragged her rough, and tenaciously slow. She was just not her, the incestuous lady that reflected in the mirror. She was maimed beyond her own admittance.

But not today. She jumped out of bed and did a slow dance around the room. She thought she could smell his debonair fragrance. The thought of him made her hug herself in glee. She was feeling unusually shy today, thinking about him. Oh! My man, she thought. How, within a matter of months he had become the world, she had been trying to evade!

She picked the newspaper lying at the foot of her main door, and quickly opened to the page with the section she considered bestiary. But not Rajat. He followed it daily with an almost pious allegiance. ‘Steer clear of rash decisions. Consider your options before taking the plunge. Not a good day to be alone.’ This was the loud warning under her sun sign. She crumpled the paper and murmured, ‘Not today, honey. Not today.’

She ran to her cupboard. On the wall beside it, hung a large frame. The photo in it, was in contrasting sepia tones. It was their Ooty visit. Overwhelmed by his constant presence, and absorbing love, she had confessed ‘You’re like a dream to me.’ He had playfully he pinched her cheeks hard. ‘Oww’ she squealed. ‘No, I’m not’ he had grinned. And a friend had clicked.
 
She carefully brought down her wedding attire. It was a baroque lehenga, which her mother had worn during her wedding. She lifted it out slowly from the heavy box and observed it close, feeling its intricate patterns with her fingers. The rich crimson silk was overlaid with intricate gold motifs and glittering stones. She wished her mother was there to help her wear it properly, and then look on with pride, at what her little girl had become.

Jigyasa knocked and barged in before she could answer, and froze at the door. ‘You’re looking b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l’, Jigyasa muttered slowly, looking stunned. She stood blushing, trying to hold her saree pleats in place and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
‘Now that you’re ready, let me call the others, so that we can start.’
‘I still have to do my hair’ she meekly appealed.
‘Take your time sweetheart." Jigyasa smiled, "You’re already looking a gem. I don’t know what more you can do. But I won’t interfere.”

                                                                                                                Concluding...

Bright Black July

‘It’s not going to work out’ she said, tears streaming down her face. ‘Tumi keno bujhte parcho na?’ (why don’t you try to understand?) His gaze fell to the floor & he pleaded – ‘Give me a chance to make it work, please’.

Couple of minutes back, he had come over to her house for a casual visit. Her dad had answered the door. She came out to meet him and her dad went to their backyard to tend to his plants. They both sat in the living room.

And after some time of talking, when he thought he could, he had popped the question. Her face had turned crimson. She tried looking away, but he saw & smiled. He knew the answer. Just had to hear it from her.

But she denied.

She struggled with her thoughts, fumbled with her words & hesitated to look him in the eyes. He was crying from inside. He badly wanted to give her a hug to assure her that he was serious about them.

She went into the other room sobbing. He sat dejected on the sofa, thinking what his next move would be. He was angry. He wanted to storm out of the house. But he knew, she was the one he would want to go to. And she was here, crying in the other room, still undecided.

He knocked at her door, ‘Please don’t cry. Please would you come out?’ ‘If you are trying to convince me, please don’t’, she said inconsolably from inside the room. He stood, his fist clenched against the door, thinking as to what his parting words would be. ‘Remember this, nothing will change between us.’ And he left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She thought he had a smile to die for. Just the thought of meeting him would make her get butterflies in stomach. Just his reassuring presence beside her made her forget the world around her. She never had a worry when he was with her. She trusted him blindly & never gave a second thought to anything that he suggested for her.

There were no sun rays pouring into her room that dark day of July. She gloomily looked at the heavy downpour through her window. Her heart was crying louder. She brought down her phone from the side table and dialled.

‘Can we meet for coffee?’, she asked. ‘As always’, he smiled.

He had arrived five minutes earlier & watched her get down the auto, carefully angling her umbrella against the pelting rain. Aqua-marine wasn’t her colour. But she looked beautiful nonetheless. She hated rain, but he liked her coming out for coffee with him.

He was standing just inside the door. He smiled warmly. She nodded lightly. She suggested sitting near the huge French window of the café. The rain drops trickling down the glass helped her instantiate her thoughts.

He had already ordered for her favourite chocolate flavoured coffee. She drew her thoughts from the rain outside and turned towards him. Looking at the steaming cup placed before her, she said- ‘When you were not there for me, I realised what you meant to me. I’ll not say I can’t live without you because I survived through last week. But I’ll confess I don’t want to live without you. I want to live, and not just survive & not without you anymore.’

All the while she spoke looking into the steaming cup and playing with it. She tried looking away from him, stealing glances at the other guests in the Coffee-Bar lounge. But time & again, she was drawn to him.

She tried speaking again. ‘It was difficult to stay calm & sane knowing that you are out with her. It was difficult to suddenly get to know of another person in your life who held so much importance. I felt bad to know that you had so safely hidden her from all. I wanted to know who Poulami was. More than that, I wanted to know why you liked her.’

 ‘I kept pulling the reins of my mind not to think of you with her. As much as I tried to be normal picturing you both together, I felt myself flaring. My mind wouldn’t stay put with working. It kept lapsing into the void territory where it refused to think of anything but you. I’m not myself again, without you.’

He took her hands in his and –‘May I?’ She smiled, surprised. He lightly kissed her hand and said ‘How could you even think that I could have gotten over you? I love you.’

 She looked at him askance. ‘I have never known a girl called Poulami.’ He said & winked, ‘I wanted you so much in my life.’ He continued, smiling, looking at her bewildered face. ‘I had always loved you, I knew that. I just wanted you to realise your feelings for me.’