ArYa OS by desi chic @india-forums.com
6 months. 6 months, 5 days. 6 months, 5 days and 23 hours. Such a lapse in time had collapsed before him. The weight of each second sat squarely on his chest. A lump formed there. But he did not swallow. It was a luxury that he disallowed himself. Because, swallowing, meant giving in to the waterfall that stood looming in the shadows of his controlled pretense.
The systematic ticking of a monitor confirmed his pulse. Nearby, he collected the white coloured waves that looked like shifting mountains against a black screen. The irony was laughable. As he turned from the screen, following the long IV tube, he beheld the stubborn truth. The tenderness in her features was a deception. They gave no hint of her accomplishment. Delicate breaths caused a fog to appear on the mask that hid her rose lips... the ones which had not spoken a word to him in the past 6 months. 6 months, 5 days, and 23 hours.
An unexpected urge swept to the surface of his tangled emotions as his fingers stepped towards the plastic covering her mouth. They tingled in anticipation of a touch of those lips. But, as new emotions and reason collided with old ones, their hopes were betrayed as he pulled his hand back.
Unknowingly, his chair had inched forward, bit, by bit. The physical distance between them was diminishing, as though attempting to reconnect them to a moment where such remoteness was never existent.
Again, his gaze lingered at the familiar face. He took in the measurable length between her eyebrows... the almond shape of her close eyes... the delicately pale, but present lines where a smile was once creased... Momentary vibration seized her body in the form of a shiver. The sudden movement shook him out of the unabashed observation. Self-consciousness ran up through his neck and cheeks as he looked nervously from side to side.
He wanted to run from there. Run, and never turn back. But that was not an option, he realized. Sitting here, in front of her unconscious figure, he understood what this woman had done. He was in awe of her. The complications in their relationship were always there, lingering behind unseen corners. Afterall, it was a bond of nothingness. But, even in the most indifferent times, there was no denying that even nothingness was something.
6 months, 5 days, and 23 hours stared at him through a pause in his wildly dancing eyes. He was arrested now. Captured, by the irrefutable form of nothingness that took shape in the form of a bump... a bump that rose from her abdomen. It was like a hill, a mountain that refused to be denied.
Again, his fingers itched in anticipation. An innocent zest erupted within him as he let the reality soak up his doubts. He felt, for a moment, like the innocent little boy who had witnessed something of a miracle. That first-time experience of amazement shone across his face once more as he recollected a moment covered in dust. The source of that amazement was irrelevant as he felt his chest rise.
A soft thudding rang in his ears like a drum. The drumming increased with each passing second. Lifting a shaky hand, he moved towards the object of his marvel. Again, the distance was being squeezed... 6 months, 5 days, 23 hours were being weighed against a moment. This moment. Time withheld a breath as his hand lingered millimeters above the hill... the mountain. He felt the room turn, and with it, so did everything else. Automatically, his eyelids shut out the world.
Teek hai Yashji. Agar aapko humaara rishta paap lagta hai, toh main iss paap ko pyaar bana kar apne andhar le kar ja rahi hoon. (Fine Yashji. If you think our relationship is a sin, then I am taking this sin inside of me in the form of love and leaving).
The thunder in his ears dissipated. Lifting the veils to his vision, he relished in the soft, almost inaudible thumping beneath his palm. Life branched throughout his hand and extended the length of his arm upwards. He felt it sweep through his calm breaths and overpower ever sense. Moisture clung to the edges of his eyes as remorse triumphed over ignorance. A dull ache awakened in the dormant corners of his feeble heart. The coiled edges of the page on which their story was written now unravelled. Withheld tears rained silently from the fringes of his vision as he now took in the listener of his silence. Raising his attention to her memorable features once more, he realized he was not alone in his epiphany. Her moisture-laced eyes touched his in warmth. She had witnessed his confession... the break-down of his tower... She had moved a mountain.
Thanks for the time. Please let me know how it went. If you would like to test your tolerance, please visit my previous rambling on this form through this link: http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3197313
Cheers,
dc
Bhabhi Ji Ghar Pe Hain?
