||SeHan OS: Broken||

It's been a month, maybe two, since I don't see him anymore. All it took was a bullet wound to wipe out his existence. A shot, a shriek and then, the nothingness! To the outside world, he is nothing but an evaporating story but in the vacuum that engulfs me every day, he is a shattered dream. I can see his eyes twinkling with his devious mischief as I settle down on his lap; I hear his heavy breath trail down the nape of my neck to my spine where it sends a tiny shiver; I feel his arms snake around me, wrapping me up in his comfort; I can taste the cardamom as his lips melts into mine, his tongue invading deeper and deeper; I can smell the musk mixed with the droplets of his sweat as his existence combines with mine and then I wake up and it all disappears. Sanam says that I need to get out of this trance and that I can't go on like this forever. I look into the blank darkness ahead and wonder how long forever is as in the space where I reside, safely cradled in his memories, time is nothing but a passing entity.

I have never felt so lost in my entirety. Even my reflection doesn't belong to me, not anymore. The Seher I used to know didn't have those sagging eyes or the lifeless smile but then again, I hardly know anything nowadays. I have always been proud of loving and accepting myself for who I am but the girl in the mirror frightens me; in her dead eyes, all I see is another life fading into oblivion. It's only his tiny whispers which keep my soul going. I can almost hear his words laced with his innocent smile floating around me, "You look beautiful. You always do."

I let the bright light flood into the room and wash over me. The warmth of the sunlight surprises me; it's like a dead feeling being reawakened from a long lost slumber. I see Sanam in the lawn, her eyes locked with Aahil's. The playful smile on her lips is hard to miss. Her fingers brush against his' as she passes him the cup of tea. I feel a dull, throbbing ache in the deep of my chest. A part of me wants to feel his skin on mine again while the other still refuses to acknowledge that the wish is an impossible dream. Dreams; dreams are my only refuge. It is only in my dreams that I find him like nothing ever changed but he is slowly fading away. Built in the same essence as I am, he and I are the same pieces of a whole; when one is broken, the other is bound to break down. For him, and only for him, I am convincing myself to live.

The only thing which had been more difficult than stepping into his room was to convince myself of the same. Even after four months and 29 days, his fragrance lingers in every ounce of air present within the enclosed walls and his laughter echoes from the half-opened window panes. I lie on his bed, trying to feel him in the folds of his linens. I feel my tears wet the soft fabric as I hold on tighter. A sudden gush of wind eases its way into the room, to his table, making a bundle of loose sheets flutter. My urge to stop the slightest change in his memories overcomes my sadness. I make my way to the table and arrange the sheets into a neat bundle. Hidden behind those piles of dusty papers, I find his diary, bounded in red leather, his name etched on top.

His love is my medicine. He always knows where to find me, even when I have no hope of a fleeting existence. The pain of losing the person you dream of spending every moment of your life with equals none. Losing Rehaan was something I never could cope up with had he not been there, guiding me through every step of tomorrow. I know people would laugh at me when I tell them this for dead people don't really come back. But Rehaan came back; he came back for me. In the scribbles of his diary, in his heartfelt words poured on the paper, in the love his eyes hid behind his smiles, I found him again and in finding him, I found myself.

Some people are always there for you. A soft hopeless call in the dark is all that such people need to find you. I will never be able to thank Bappa enough for bringing Sanam into my life; she healed me and in the process, made me realize the living shadow I was becoming. I am still galaxies away from what it takes to be normal but I am trying. And how can I forget Aahil? In his silent presence and his assuring smile, he helps me take on life, each day at a time. As he talks to me now, his knives and forks moving in a perfectly synchronized manner, I notice the efforts he puts into making me smile. He puts in the extra helping of the curry as I near to the finish and laughs when I make a face. I feel the eating becoming a normal process when Sanam barges in with the bowl of the dessert. "Gajar ka halwa," she offers with a wide smile on her lips and gets disappointed when my face becomes numb. She remembered that it was my favourite but it had escaped her mind that it was Rehaan's favourite too.

I can now smile and can pass a day without tearing up at every mention of his. I now go outdoors and attend social functions, all dressed up and happy. I have dinner with the family and help Sanam with the household chores. I am joining the Ibrahim Group next month onwards as a Marketing Intern as Aahil feels that no one but me is entitled to take up the post of Rehaan. No one knows that I still cry myself to sleep every night. No one knows how my heart breaks a little more inside each time I hear his name being uttered. No one knows how I relive his memories every single day, frightened that they might fade away. But then again, no one needs to know. I guess this is the maximum level of normal I ever will be.

The beeping sound of the machine guides my fingers to the slight bulge of my stomach. I can almost feel him breathing under my skin, his fingers gliding to join forces with mine. The doctor says it is a mass of my tissues, nothing substantial; nothing tangible. "He," I whisper, as the understanding dawns on her face. A soft smile graces her lips and she starts talking in terms and gestures my brain refuses to take in. I see Sanam nod at her every word and escort myself out of the chamber. No one notices me as I make my away along the long corridor and climb down the flight of stairs. I cross the pavement and come to a halt in one of the lone benches by the side of the parking. I settle myself down and wait for Sanam to come. For the first time since he is gone, I feel happy. For a tiniest of moment, I feel him sitting on the far end of the bench, mirroring my happiness. I look up to confirm my suspicions but it's only the shadows of the swaying leaves which show a movement. But this time, I am not disappointed. I am happy having him with me in every memory we lived together and in every story we shared over the midnight cups of coffee. With the little life growing inside of me, I don't feel incomplete anymore. We didn't get married or grew old together like million others but that doesn't make what we shared any less magical. Like he always used to say, "Often, a few moments are sufficient to build a forever."