A dim light of the street lamp scarcely illuminated a shoebox apartment in the heart of Bombay proper. A woman in her mid-twenties, who refused to call the city by its new Indianized name, sat naked on a velvet rug, flashing pictures of the tv washing over her. She stuffed her head between her knees and stared down at the concrete floor visible from in between the gape holes in the carpet. The windows, or what was left of them, welcomed the cold winter breeze with open arms and floating curtains making sailing sounds like a boat steering the wide seas. Her fingers traced the teeth marks of rodents on the floor and she mumbled old Hollywood songs. That Billy Joel LP mama stole from her Catholic school headmaster still made decent music. Like a prayer well remembered, the words glided off her tongue like butter in a wok. Cheers to the broken hearted girls in the city! Cheers to the loners who made peace with their solitude! Cheers to the misfits, the leftovers, the discarded youth of the suburbs who ran downtown to belong! Cheers to her lost happiness and a kiss to the new quest ahead!
Her forced laughter overwhelmed her muffled tears and an old cognac numbed the pain throbbing in her chest. A persistent knock on the door interrupted her lone hour. She pulled the sofa throw over her shoulders and yelled "come in" in the softest of tones.
A young man with smoky skin, either from daily fatigue of rough labor at a construction site or the result of a street brawl, walked in tugging a two foot suitcase behind his legs.
"Food?" he said in an almost whisper.
"Mmm" she said, not as a reply but a simple acknowledgment of his existence.
He scavenged the empty fridge in search of something half edible but came up empty handed.
"Food?" he asked once again, this time with a little attitude in his tone.
She cocked her head in his direction and went back to sipping on the brandy in her hand. He looked particular annoyed now but chose not to express his emotions in words.
"You got meds?" he asked.
"What?" she sat upright.
" I said do you got a freaking bandage?"
She sighed and pointed to cupboard behind him. He lugged his suitcase around the apartment until he found a nook just perfect to settle oversized luggage in. Then, he reached over the standing stool to get to the first-aid kit and threw it in the woman's lap.
"Hey!" she expressed mild displeasure but was generally unconcerned with impact of the blow.
"Okay, alright", he laughed and sat cross legged across from her waiting to be dressed and nursed. She pulled up the blanket sitting low on her chest and began walking toward the bedroom.
"Where are you going?" he questioned unceremoniously. She didn't bother to answer and instead slammed the door on her way in.
Her lanky figure appeared ten minutes later wearing a floor length chemise and patterned footlets. He scoffed in disapproval but said no more when he noticed her oddly raised eyebrow. She sat down on the cold side of the floor pulling the coffee table near her for support.
She pat her lap to invite him closer and he propped his head on her stomach wearing an excited expression. She aimlessly ran her fingers through his hair alternately smiling and weeping.
"Want some chips?" she asked affectionately.
"Do I got a choice?" he replied pointed to visible lack of food in the fridge and pantry. She pulled out a half eaten bag of fried potato fingers and placed them in his hands.
"Did you eat all the rice?"
"Yes", she nodded against his neck.
"And the veggies?"
She nodded again.
"And the soda?"
A third nod in affirmative.
She could feel his anger from the violent crushing of the plastic bag of processed food but she did not wince.
"When are you getting rid of it?"
"The charity hospital said no", she chugged the last drops of alcohol in the cognac bottle and tossed the empty glass outside the window. She waited to hear the sound of shattering pieces before continuing. "Something about being Catholic".
"So what? We ain't Christians".
He asked a rhetorical question but she answered anyway. "We could have tried a private hospital but we both know they won't take a second look without a bundle of cash".
"Just get a coat hanger", he responded but even he could feel the ache of his words stinging in his throat.
She silently pointed to the bloody red coat hanger. Her tears were not muffled anymore but flowing freely. The salt of her wounds dropped rained on his dry eyes. His shaking fingers reached up to touch her flesh. He pulled her down with weakened arms and his chapped lips kissed her bitten ones.
"We're okay. We're going to be okay honey". His haunted eyes met her scared ones.
"Really?" she looked toward him for reassurance.
"I am sorry you faced the storm alone. I am sorry honey. I love you".
A small smile colored her tears golden like a rainbow in a cloudy sky.
NOTE: I am sure a lot of you understood what this story is about and some others who did not. Comment below and let me know your interpretation of the plot. Of course, if no one seems to understand the purpose & meaning behind the story then I will reveal to you.
Hope you enjoy this impromptu piece. I had no idea I was writing about this topic until it was actually out. One of those days when the muse is dominating.
Love Friendship Dating and Relationships
Bindi
