Posted:
Hi, this turned out sad. My words were winter, sweater and pregnant. They're not in the same order, let me know if that's a problem!
Somewhere a window rattles hard enough to startle me awake. I sit up in a sudden move to find the place beside me empty and cold. I gather my knees together and settle my chin on them. There's not a sound to be heard, except for the occasional rattle of the window somewhere in the house. NOLA winters have the habit of getting bitterly windy, I remember.
I look up bleary-eyed as the bed keeps getting colder only for my eyes to land on the neatly arranged pile of winter-wear on the foot of the bed. Its all blue; the gloves, the sweater, the beanie and the neck scarf. My favourite colour, I realise belatedly. Or atleast what used to be my favourite colour.
Now, it just stings in my eyes. But the gesture is sweet, I agree. And was much needed, I think, as something twists in my heart painfully.
I look away from them hastily when the stinging in my eyes become unbearable only to see the purple dress that hangs by the window. It looks new, I don't remember owning it previously. My curiosity levels rise up then, enough to get me out of the bed.
The dress is soft under my fingers and undoubtedly beautiful, something only he can pick. I've never been a fussy dresser so this is a surprise, the imposition of his choice. There's intricate detailing with heavy work spanning across the waist, making me quite sure that I wouldn't have been able to wear this some months back.
I was too pregnant back then.
My heart dives in my chest at the thought so I run the periodic table in my head again as is the routine. There's no note on the dress but a paper flutters on our dressing table, weighed down by jewellery that looks new too.
I stare at the jewellery, wondering at the suddenness of it all before pulling out the paper.
There are just three words on it, in beautiful hard strokes that I recognise as his. I've heard the words frequently everyday for months but this, seeing the lifeless alphabets on the yellowing paper combined with the garments and jewellery, it somehow manages to break the walled up dams inside me. It's enough to send me over the edge and shatter me.
And for the first time in months, I break down and cry, slumped against the dresser. There's no one in the house to hear my pitiful groans, no one to stop me from pouring my heart out. With every tear, I feel the ice around my heart melting, bit by bit.
I scream in distress at the emptiness of what once was a home and sit back to listen for a response. But there's just the silence that screams back at me in its own taunting language.
Because he has left for work. Because there's no child. Because my baby isn't there anymore. The house is as empty as my heart feels.
My mobile rings somewhere, I don't move though. The pain still fights it's way out through the tears and I let it. I let it all go because like he says, it's been too long and I need to move on. My hands clutch on the dress in despair, the crunch of the hard paper hammering down in the eerie silence and I'm brought back to my senses.
I feel the silence and the emptiness that has reigned inside me for a long time now, leave. Leaving back room that spans an eternity. But I also feel it slowly filling back up with everything I have once been. Its all supposed to start getting better now, I come to terms with the fact.
So I sit back silently in the same place, same position, a few hours later, wiping away the last of the tears before looking down at the paper in my hands again with the first smile in months. The words stare back at me, with glaring surety, oozing truth just like his voice:
"I love you."
Kumkum Bhagya
Arjun
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