No Next Day…

She waits all day… Along with all the innumerable chores to which she attends, she never loses count of the number of hours after which he would finally return. In that small compartment of her mind are reserved all those scarce moments that she has had with him. It is the most invaluable part of herself, for this is where the essence of her being, her moments with him, lie; this is where the ones to come shall dwell…

She waits, waits till the clock strikes eight, when she can finally catch a glimpse of her soul mate from the balcony, see him rushing up the staircase, walk through the oval corridor in that old building in Delhi. This is the moment when her life begins, when she comes alive. The swift throb of his heart that she hears during the hug; the fragrance of his cascading breath; and the smiles on the faces of both creating a beautiful portrait of eternal harmony. That special compartment comes into action.

All problems now melt down. No more does she remember that the bedroom ceiling leaked when it had rained that day; that the A.C. was much too noisy; that the woman next door was one big piece of crap; that… She does not remember! She is now with him, only him…

All through dinner, she fixes her gaze at him; with love in those eyes, she sees how happy he is to be away from all humdrum, away from all reproaches of his boss, in front of his wife’s love-laden eyes. He loves it, she loves it. They love it…

That two kilometer walk at night was the most desirable and enlivening part of her day. When he in his track suit and she in her Salwar-Kameez and shoes walked hand-in-hand, shoulder-to-shoulder in that absence of hurry and all tension, she was transported to all new levels of ecstasy. Those forty odd minutes comprised him narrating all his day and herself acting the Oracle to all her problems. He involved himself in her problems with no less interest. They discussed their problems, laughed their laughs, and talked their talks. Isn’t that all required of partners?

She always wished that those forty minutes would never end. These minutes seemed no more that the minutest fraction of a split-second to her and each day she wished that he would extend their walk, that she would get a few more moments with him before they reached home and the next-day necessities occupied them. She wished that there never was a next day. Just this night, this walk, with him…

“Let’s walk to the India Gate today…”

And she was left agape at so apt a fulfillment of her unarticulated wish. ‘That would be double the length of the usual walks!’ she thought overjoyed.


Their talks continued; her Oracle avatar, their laughs and more talks. Then instantly, something prompted silence while both of them walked.

That cool late-summer Delhi wind brought forth a small curl of her silken hair to her face which she very elegantly drove back. He had been watching…

“You are the essence of my life, the breath of my being, the root of all my strength. Be with me always, and I shall die the happiest man…”

She held his mouth, just planted a peck on his cheek. They walked on, silent, happier than ever.

“Want to have a Kulfi?” and he ran to a stall. India Gate nights are enchanting. She could see him. The aura smelled of love, peace, and harmony. He turned with two Kulfis and a wide smile on the face. She could see brilliant lights, listen to the harmony of crackers, small peaceful explosions, and he was going to be back in a few steps or more.

Then she heard something big, and before she heard it, there she lay under soul mate’s distorted body. The biggest explosion; the explosion of her life…

She lay motionless.

He lay motionless.

His blood on her face lay motionless.

Her tears could not…

Her wish had been granted. There would be no next day…


3 thoughts on “No Next Day…

Add yours

  1. First of all, I just love the detailing, it has been done beautifully. The characters are really powerful and the story , heart touching.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: