"Nooo" I cry out as I wake up from my nightmare, my hand stretched out in front of me as if reaching out to someone. I look around the room, look through the darkness trying to find the flicker of light, the one light that was usually on all night, just because she was scared of the dark. The light no longer existed. The irony wasn't lost on me. How the disappearance of one night light meant the disappearance of the light in my life. I laugh a slow heart wrenching laugh, a laugh that could tear at the very soul.
Everywhere I look I still spot her ' reading my favourite book ' 'The Outsider' by Albert Camus, cooking in the kitchen my favourite; jali gobi aloo, sitting on the rocking chair, praying to Ganpati, watching Mr. India. How far I run I still find myself back where I first started. It was like I was glued to this place, to her. She clouded my mind, my heart, my soul so much that there was room for no one and nothing else. Nothing mattered to me anymore. Not life not death. She was life and without her life is death anyway.
I just followed her image blindly. Wherever and whenever I saw her. She was all I wished for, all I hoped for. I would follow her image to the ends of the earth and beyond because I had nothing else.
Watching her go about her daily routine is what breathes life into me. It is what keeps me alive. I have willed myself to talk to her, but it has only resulted in failure time and again. My fear of what will happen if I talk to the image is greater than my need to talk to her. Yes I would give anything to be able to talk to her but I am afraid - what if she doesn't talk back, what if her being an image is thrown back into my face, what if I was only allowed to only see her image and not talk to her, what if she disappears if I tried talking to her. So many 'what ifs' and no answers to them. There are answers but fear of finding the answers to the questions is greater that actually putting the questions forward. I wiped the sweat from my face in frustration and made a sound that to others might sound like a mere sob but for someone who has been through what I have been through is nothing less than tearing out ones soul and separating it from ones body.
Another morning, yet another day of aimlessly moving around the house following an image. I saw Deepali mourning in a corner. I snort at the hypocrisy. Yeah, what has she lost that she is mourning. Who is she putting a show for? She should be joining both the male Bhatias at the bar, celebrating.
Maa sits in her room crying her eyes out all day long and Sasumaa comes on and off to sit with her. But the crying is limited to her room only. There is no room for crying outside that inner sanctum. Outside the room there is only one mourner. But for a while now the grief seems to have left her. She is still sad but you will see her smile sometimes.
She is decorating the living room with flowers ' reds and yellows. Reds and yellows? Is it that time of year again? She steps out of the house and he follows blindly. She moves from one shop to another finding the perfect Ganpati murti. She crosses the street after looking left and right. She has always been the safe one. You may do what is in your capacity to remain safe, but when disaster strikes, it strikes with a vengeance. It comes yielding immense power over everyone and everything and destroys all in its wake.
I spot a vehicle come out of nowhere headed in her direction. I want to call out to her, tell her to move out of the way. I speak the words but it looks like I have lost my voice. Nooo this is not happening. Not again. I run towards her to push her out of the way, but it looks like I just might not make it. But someone else sees the oncoming disaster and makes an effort to avert it. Unfortunately he too is a tad bit late. She is hit and is flung into the air and drops a few feet away. A crowd gathers around. "RK I am coming. This life is worse than death itself. I cannot bear another moment of it without you." She speaks through the pain, through the blood spouting at her mouth. I stop in shock at her words. I just stand there unmoving watching in confusion at the events that unfold before me. Someone holds her asking her repeatedly not to close her eyes. She smiles through the pain as if she sees impending bliss ahead. She just keeps repeating, "RK...RK...RK" as if she is calling out to him, as if she sees him.
"Madhu" I call out in torment. "I am here." She doesn't respond to me. "Madhu" I call out more forcefully reaching out for her. Only my hand moves through her as if she was something intangible. Then it dawns on me. It was not her who was no longer tangible, it was me.
I remember the events which come back to me as flashes. Decorating the pooja ghar with red and yellow flowers. Us deciding that there is nothing as too many flowers. Deciding to go out and buy some more. Parking the car and going to check if the Ganpati Murti we ordered is ready. Crossing the street to buy more flowers. Madhu stopping to look both sides before crossing while I claim nothings going to happen to RK. A speeding car coming towards us. Madhu screaming and scared stiff. Unmoving. I push her to aside saving her while loosing my life instead. Being thrown into the air and landing on the concrete some 15 feet ahead. Bleeding. Madhu at my side crying asking me to not leave her. Me calling out to her repeatedly in pain, not physical pain but pain of the soul. Excruciating pain at being separated.
It wasn't she who died that day, it was me. Now when I look at her, I should feel devastated at what she has done. But somehow that is not what I feel. I feel like I am nearing completion; like finally I am regaining that part of me that I lost; like I am going to be whole again. My soul is waiting to burst out in exultation. We will be together once again.
***************
I was trying to portray that Rishab thought Madhu was no more but all along it was Rishab who was actually dead. I wanted to give you all a sudden jolt. I am not sure if I was able to achieve that goal to perfection. Hope I was though...
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