The darkness enveloped them again for another night.
From the distance, where he stood leaning against the wall, he saw her silhouette moving around in the shadows, the silhouette somehow reaching him, calling out to him, like it had done all those years ago...
How he wished he could reach out and touch her once more, feel her once more, just be with her. To lie beside her, breathe in her scent, watch her mouth move in fascinating ways as she narrated another story of her daily life.
But it was impossible to do so, and it always would be. All he could do, all she could do, all they could do was feel each other's essence from afar. Because something was better than nothing.
***
She knew he was watching, as he had known last night when she was watching.
They had always been attuned to each other, and how ironic that they continued to be, even in the state that they were both confined to for endless eternity.
Her eyes searched for him, for a glimpse of his shadow, for she was sure that he was being treated to the sight of her being - so why wasn't she granted the same privilege? Frustrated beyond no means, she stood beside the window sill again, hoping he'd roam the night once more in her shawl.
The mind wandered back to their encounter that morning, when he'd stopped by to give her the tea. Her off handish behaviour was simply her love - it always had been her way of expression towards him, and he'd come to accept it. Albeit, it had taken apologies and never ending pecks along his stubble in the past to pacify his stubborn mood and to rid his forehead of the small frown that appeared whenever he was annoyed with her...
It never ceased to amaze her how he refused to let her go, back then and even now, even though they were never going to be as one in the same way again.
Later that afternoon, the warm sun had beckoned to her as the rays tantalised her apartment, so she'd stepped out onto the porch, watching as the middle aged lady that lived between them hung out her washing to dry. The sprays of water littered everywhere, threatening to touch her with their flying drops but always avoiding her skin.
And sure enough, behind the swaying fabric of the washing line, there he was - watching with fascination and a small smile lingering on his lips.
Geet stepped away from the window sill, leaning back against the wooden frame and heaving a sigh. Why had she come here, of all places? Why had she chosen to be close to him once more, to be near yet afar?
The answer was simple. She'd always be near to him, yet afar. She had to be, in order to survive the fate she had been given. Wherever he roamed, she would follow. Wherever he resided, she would find an opening and settle down. Whenever he'd move on the next day, not leaving a trace of him behind, she'd do the exact same.
For Maan was Geet's, and Geet was Maan's.
In sickness and in health, until death do them part.
And even after death did do them part.
***
It was almost sunrise when he finally gathered the courage to step out onto the porch, his eyes fixated on her door.
He counted silently to 5, when sure enough, she stepped out, her hair playing with the wind softly as it fell in a long mane down her back.
"One touch," he whispered.
"We can't."
"I haven't felt the warmth of your skin in so long."
"We'll disappear. This way, we can still be together."
"We've been assigned this feeling forever, Geet. I can't live forever without holding your hand."
"What if we can never be together after this? What if you disappear and I can never find you?"
"You'll always find me."
"Maan, please. Don't do this."
"Don't you trust me?"
"With all of my soul."
"Then come closer. Whatever happens, we'll still be in here," he placed a hand on his chest, where his heart had stopped beating 2 years ago.
Tentatively, she took a step towards him, and he mirrored her actions. Looking into his deep eyes, the pure love reflected there gave her the courage to take a few more steps further, as he did the same.
They came to a stop outside door number 27, the residence of the middle aged lady.
He raised his palm in the air, and her hand shook as she slowly began to meet his skin. The anticipation in the air was amplifying and it sent a shiver in the air, as her fingers slowly met his.
Their hands passed through each other into the air; Maan held an expression of confusion whilst Geet's eyebrows furrowed. Then they glanced at each other and smiled, as his hand curled around hers, until it couldn't be seen where their hands began and ended.
"We are still one, even though it is our souls meeting, not our bodies," he spoke quietly, as the sun slowly rose and the birds sang their praises for the arrival of another day.
The souls began to fade away, as their legs gave way to their torsos, their arms and then their smiling faces as they meshed with the air and melted with the breezy wind, to another town and another sunrise where they could steal a few more moments as their own.
The lady's door flew open with the sudden gust of their departure, and she scurried out of bed, her gown wrapped tightly around her. She glanced left and right, only to see the opened door of apartment number 28 swaying in the wind, its hinges creaking with every movement.
"How strange," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest. "Number 28's not been occupied for years, then how..." She shook her head, smiling at her own foolishness. "Savita, you must still be dreaming."
She padded inside, leaving the door slightly ajar, as door number 28 continued creaking, leaving behind the tale of an eternal love.
The End.
Ishaani
Cricket
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