"I want you; I want the world! But it tears my heart apart to put you in such a state."
I pulled my leg up on the bench and turned to look him hard in the eyes. "I willingly accept. So at this point, what happens next is solely up to you."
He shook his head at me as he usually teasingly did and grabbed my hand. "Let's go talk to your dad." Butterflies erupted in my stomach. He was going to make me his and he, mine. We were going to officially seal our love. I was ecstatic and yet terrified.
But now here I sit on the crme colored chair in our room - looking out towards the moist green trees. With the window pulled open, I inhale the scent of rain from earlier and my body feels a little tingle from the slight breeze. It's been four months and only three calls. My heart has already been torn from the grief so now it's just hanging in pieces. The only reason why I'm still breathing is for news about him.
My head slightly falls to the side as I stare at his matching chair to my right. He warned me of this lifestyle but I agreed. My mind was telling me to not put myself in this struggle but my heart won the battle during the time. It wanted to be where it was most comfortable. I chuckle at the thought. It wanted to be with him yet now he was nowhere to be seen. But he did warn me about this. He had made his decision long before we got married. I was just...a mistake, if you will. An unexpected thing in his life.
I jump out of my seat at the first ring I hear and open my bedroom door to poke my head out. I listen into mum's (his mother...our mother) words for any indication if it was him. I frown as she utters someone else's name and engages in a conversation with them. Nonetheless, I walk downstairs and look for my little man - Sumedh. My brother in law's eight-month-old son. There he was, rolling around the floor; reaching for every object or toy he could get. I run up to him and hastily pull him up for an embrace. He whines at first but a toy quickly quiets him down. I kiss his chubby cheek hard and then go for a kiss on his newly shaved head. "Gosh, I love you!" I exclaimed. I start aimlessly walking around the house with him.
When we reach the kitchen and mum's voice loud voice blares our ears, I hurry back to the living room and put Sumedh back on the floor as I turn on the television and flip through the channels until I get to the news. Before the segment could get to world news and talk about what's going on in Syria, I feel the remote being pried out of my hand and the tv turning off. I look up into the apologetic gaze of my father in law. "You're only going to put yourself into more stress."
I hold my words to myself and feel the couch fluctuate as he sits next to me. I can feel his gaze still. "It's been six weeks since the last call," I say in a quiet voice and pretend to move my attention to Sumedh.
"I already told you the other family spoke to their son and he didn't mention anything. I'm sure he would have said something if things were bad."
I suddenly switch off my emotions for that moment and positively nod at dad. "You're right. God willing, he'll be okay." I let out a steady sigh. "I'm just going to walk to the river."
Dad smiles but his eyes hold a lot of concern for me. He cups the back of my head and pulls me towards him as he places a kiss on the top of my head. "You're going to be okay." He whispers but I hear him loud and clear. I tap his hand with mine and get up from my place. If okay meant living like a lifeless body then yes, perhaps I would be okay after all.
I go back to my room and get dressed for my walk. And as I'm just about to leave the house, I hear mum shouting with joy. Another one of her nieces is pregnant. I laugh at her enthusiasm and quickly head out before I'm forced to speak. All I ever got from others were questions about his whereabouts. As if I knew what he was doing in a war torn country like Syria. As if I knew which bomb blast he was running away from next. As if I knew how many dead people he was pulling out from rubble. As if I knew if he was still even alive!
Once my feet touch the usual bike path I always walk on - the one we once had our daily walks on - my shoulders slouch with a very brief sense of relief. He's here with me. I pretend he is anyways. He would have loved this weather. He liked the cool breeze and the rain. So many things we had - have - in common. That's what pulled us towards each other.
I continue my walk for another twenty minutes and stop at one of the benches along the way. I sit down and stare at the slow momentum of the water. It's quiet. Relaxed. And before I know it, I'm drowning in my own thoughts again.
***
I push my hands further in the pockets of my black-cropped leather jacket and stare down as my black suede boots become wet from the puddles under my feet. Two months have passed. He finally did call, however, the last call was two weeks ago. That's certainly better than waiting for seven weeks - which is the longest I had to wait without a single call.
I get irritated from the wind pushing my hair in my face. I grab my elastic band and gather my long hair in a high ponytail. It's like just the hair tying took every little bit of energy left in me because in that moment, I reach for the railing on the side and I let my tears pour out. How could I have agreed to such a condition? How could I do this to myself? My heart has been in constant pain. A pain so deep I literally am not able to handle it at times. How much more could I cry? How much longer could I possibly take his absence? And if he never returned, then what? I hold my face between my hands and take in deep breaths. No matter what, I made him a promise that I wouldn't grieve. That was another condition.
He said I mustn't grieve if he...passes...because he was fighting against oppressors. He wanted victory for the oppressed. For the defenseless victims. For those who struggle on a day-to-day basis to extents that we can never fathom. "There isn't a single day where a mother doesn't lose her son, her husband, her brother. There isn't a day that goes by where everyone is fed and clothed and sheltered. People are in need! I know my single self will not help all the victims but I can't sit back either. I have to help in some way." Those were his words even before marriage. The very words he used to try to persuade me in not "ruining" my life. But my love was greater and because of that, I would always hold my promise true.
I wipe away my tears and take one last breath. I suddenly feel a drop on my face and then another. I look into the sky and sure enough the sky is clouded with darkness - ready to let out the drops of rain that always brought me a sense of peace. I feel the droplets coming down more in numbers and then it turns into a drizzle. I quietly giggle and start walking towards home.
I hasten my steps as the rain get heavier and try to avoid getting completely soaked by sticking close to the lush green trees. Just half a block to go and I'd make it home.
I take a few more steps and that's when my hands fall out of my pockets. My pace slows down but my heart is beating rapidly against my chest. I'm looking at the faces in our driveway and my throat croaks when I see the back of a body that I know far too well.
I cry his name out and at this point my entire body is shaking. My knees almost buckle when he turns to address the call and then our eyes meet. I can't believe what I see but at this point I don't care to know the situation. I just care to get to him. I cry his name again and run for him as if my life depended on it - it did depend on it.
Paying absolutely no attention to his family around us, I crush my body against his and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I feel his arms tighten around my waist and then the waterworks let loose as soon as I feel his lips against my ear, softly chuckling. "Did you miss me?" I smile through my streaming tears that are now mixed with the rain and I refuse to let go of him. "I swear to God, more than you can imagine," I croakily reply.
He pulled back a bit and held my face between his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "Bas. No more. I came back for you," he says with his eyes sparkling. And as much as I want to say something, I just throw my arms around him again. With my eyes shut closed against his neck, I simply take in his smell, his warmth, and his touch.
While he fought his war, I fought mine, and in the end, we both came out victorious.
Itti Si Khushi Sab TV
