Holding
breath, quietly removing her blue sandals from her left hand and clutching the
handle of door from right, rammed it cruelly.
It was
the 7th cockroach in past one hour Rekhaa had butchered. You know
girls hate cockroaches like men hate periods. Rekhaa had just shifted to her
new villa she had bought. Her father paid the down payment for it and she has
to pay the 84 installments, which she will do easily. She was a freelance
designer.
And it was the kitchen from where she started
cleaning. She prepared for the war with the web of spiders, dirt and not so
favorite cockroaches and rammed all the little ugly creatures in the kitchen.
She hated them as if they were fighting at the Indian border against her
father. In her childhood when she was told that her dad was in border security
forces of India and there were men who fight against her father, she just wanted all of them dead in a blink of an eye.
What
more a girl can dream for her father’s safety. And what more a father can think
of her girl’s safety by giving his private licensed 0.32’’ MK-III revolver to
her for unfavorable situations.
While
unpacking the bags she was looking for that extra pair of glasses she forgot to
put in. It always happen when you have many important things to do, you forget
one of them. But it was not that the one regret for. Rekhaa had shortsightedness
myopia.
While
closing the door of closet a cock roach falls and she dropped her suitcase on
the creature without wasting a second, it was the eighth one.
“That
was the cruelest murder of an cockroach, not bad Rekhaa ,” said she.
The
room is set now let’s see how others will look at it. My sketched portrait on
wooden frame at the top of bed, dark blue cotton wall hanging in the front, sky
blue bed sheets following dark blue curtains, navy blue covers on chair.
“Oh
blue world of mine, If somebody made a biopic of me, he would have named it a
BLUE FILM”
She
took her Benson and Hedges with last few cigarettes left and went to the
balcony and lit a cigarette .Enjoying the view which was not quite enjoyable
which had a grocery shop in front and a apartment above. There was a University nearby so it was
home to many students.
After
smoking she took the bud with her and dumped it in the dustbin in kitchen. Took
of her glasses went for bathing.
Afternoon
passed; she ordered burgers and coke from a restaurant and in the evening she
ran out of her cigarettes. So she decided to go out and buy herself a pack.
She
locked the door and while coming downstairs she saw a boy signal her to
somewhere in front of her balcony and when she was busy noticing where he signaled from, the boy
disappeared.
Somehow,
she managed to read as it was on the door of the apartment where an A4 sized
paper hanging on it, light was dim and she had her glasses on.
“YOU’RE
ADORABLE”.
“PLEASE
QUIT SMOKING”.
Followed
by a cute chubby smiley drawn in green sketch pen . She blushed and laughed at
the same time and came downstairs eagerly looking for the boy but he was gone
but she knew he lived in that apartment and he wrote it. She went to the
grocery store and bought a coffee-toffee. Without hesitating she wrote a reply
and wrapped on the coffee-toffee she bought. Its weight was enough to reach
from her balcony to his.
“Clever
girl” said the boy, when he picked up the note wrapped parcel.
It was
not the note which made amused him but
the toffee. It seemed like that the boy never received something like that from
a girl or might be something else.
“THANK
YOU”
“I WILL
TRY TO QUIT SMOKING”.
Followed
by a cute little girly face; having bunny teeth on it as she had for real.
Smile
on his face lasted for long. That night was one of the loveliest nights he ever
had. He never thought of it that she will reply. It was his first time that he
wrote something like that. He was afraid that what if she got angry and complained
to his landlord about him, after reading it after all it was a bit flirty. But
he was also sure that most of the girls ignore things like that, honestly he
knew he did that without any wrong intentions. He just wanted to tell her that
she was beautiful; and she mustn’t smoke.
Before
that morning when he saw her on the balcony, he realized that he had never seen
a beautiful girl like her. She was like the one of those girls whom every boy
used to imagine about and she happened to him in reality. The Night passed. Day
one of exchange of letters ended.
The
grocery shop opened and the boy rushed to it, and bought a coffee-toffee,
although he also had one but it was given by her so how could he return the
gifted thing; reason one and reason two he also ate it last night.
He came
back to his apartment, searched for some white paper and struggled to find
it. He found a calendar’s back and wrote
on it.
“THANK
YOU FOR THE TOFFEE”
“I WISH
I COULD HAVE SHARED IT WITH YOU”
Nothing sounds stupid in love. It was a short
note, he wrapped in the toffee and threw it to the balcony where she used to
come for smoke. Day two ends.
Next
day, in the morning ,boy heard a knock on the door, he panicked that it must be
his landlord or someone might be from the girl’s side. He was just wearing his
boxers, gathered his bed sheet and wrapped around. It was only one knock. He
opened the door and guessed what it was; again a letter but this time not
wrapped in a toffee. He hurriedly opened it; it was a pear: might be it was for
breakfast.
The
series of letter continued for two weeks but one day he had no paper to write.
While searching in the room, his eyes fell on his folder of academic degrees in
which his CV was popping out. Gotcha!
This
time he wrote at the back side of his CV. It seemed they were made for that.
They faced no troubles in doing this game of letters. In the evening,while he was returning from the
grocery, he heard a noise at the his door. He rushed to the stairs and went
directly to the apartment. He knew what was it and he was right. This time she
also replied with her CV and it was inside a Pass-pass mouth-freshener.
“I
received you letter on your CV, so I thought I must write on my CV” the boy
read.
“Clever
girl” the boy hushed.
She was
a love letter girl in a text message world.
You
know a CV lets you know about the
person. So in this way they both knew about each other’s education, hobbies and
hometown, phone contact also. In this way, they had each other’s contact; but
for more than a week not one of them called each other. You can judge both on
this behavior.
The
time came where the series of letters was going to an end. One day, in the
morning Samrat wrote that he was moving from the apartment because he had a
scuffle with the owner, he didn’t explain about it. The same evening the boy
received a call from a melancholy voice asking,
“Is it
Mr. Samrat There?”
“Yes
ma’am Samrat this side” boy replied wondering who he was speaking with.
“Rekhaa
this side, I thought you were free in the evening. Can we meet now, I’m in the
parking” she said.
“Wait I
am coming in a second” boy replied without thinking.
He went
to the apartment and did all things to look well turned out and ran towards the
parking. He knew she had a Honda; he reached the car and knocked at the glass.
“Come.
Sit inside” Rekhaa said with calm on her face.
He was
nervous and sweating like he had all his taps on.
After 2
minutes silence in the car, Rekhaa asked “Where you going, when you’re leaving”.
Bull’s eye
Straight
to the point without wasting the time; she was always like that.
“Within
a few days” said Samrat.
“You
can live with me if you want, I have an extra room”
His
eyes were telling her the answers and he said “Yes”.
The
next morning the boy shifted with his luggage. They had breakfast together in
the garden outside. He stared at the small red hibiscus,
“I love
red” he said.
“I love
blue more” she said.
“I
planted this when I shifted here as memory and I also think that planting a
tree is like putting your arms around your mother and telling her that you love
her” she said.
He was
amazed. They planted a small mango tree together that day. Planting together is
different kind of intimacy – shoulder to shoulder, rather than face to face. She
took him to her room to let him see her work. There were bottles of beer
painted in fascinating colors, wall hanging decorated by her and a shelf of books;
he was more attracted to the books.
I
always say “Marry a girl who has more books than pair of shoes”.
“Aaah! so
according to your saying, I’ll be married one day, because I only have two
pairs of shoes, least interested in them” she said while laughing.
She
always used to think that no one will marry her. She was a tough person to live
with. Although she was a little tough to live with but you know always there is
that person who choose you with all your flaws and make you better out of
yourself.
“You’re
adorable. I know you’ll get a handsome groom for you” he said.
“I want
a better man for myself” she said blushing.
“Don’t
find a better man, choose a man who makes you a better woman” he said.
“Aww
you’re a sweet mouth always” she poked.
“Close
your eyes Rekhha”
EYES
CLOSED
MILLONS
OF THOUGHTS FLASHED THROUGH HER EYES WHEN SHE CLOSED THEM
He
kissed her eyes.
They
hugged tightly like both were trying to fix in each other like a puzzle.
Days
passed and so the October, Love with a tint of friendship was getting stronger
and stronger and the young mango plant was growing. But with the sugar there
always come the ants. She always used to tease him for hearing those three
magical words but he always twisted the tale. One day on a serious note she
asked,
“Do you
love me?”
He
remained silent. She repeated politely.
“Aren’t
you sure about it”
“It’s
not like that, I just don’t know how to take this” he said stammering.
POST
WINTER STORM HAD STARTED OUTSIDE AND THE EMOTIONAL ONE INSIDE.
Both
went to their beds, without dining.
He was
not here forever. It was the first
thought that came to her as she woke up. He was gone. And soon, this bedroom,
the house in whose eastern corners it sat , and the tiny garden outside with
its gnarled old red hibiscus and the half grown mango tree they had planted together,
all those would be gone as well. It was the strangest feeling ever.
Months
passed. She went broke. One morning smelled like the morning you don’t want to
have in your life, she tried to lie on the bed for few extra minutes but failed.
She threw her left hand on the corner table for glasses and damaged them.
“What a
Kick ass start of the morning” she screamed.
The past
few months really changed her. The relationship watered the demons inside her. Like
a blue fairy turned into a cow boy.
DOOR
BELL RINGS
She
looked from the window to the doors and it was him. She threw her blanket and
rushed towards the closet and took her father’s loaded revolver.
She
opened the window fumbling. A blow of wind came in through the window.
“You
son of bitch, how dare you come again?”
SHOT
FIRED
MISSED
COMPLETELY
GUN
POWEDER SHOWERED ALL OVER HER FACE AND SHE FAINTED.
After a
few hours
“Is
anyone here?”
“Where
am I?”
“Why can’t I see anything?”
A ward
boy rushed and called a nurse than the nurse called the doctor, constable standing
outside the ward with a stranger. She was lying in a hospital bed in silence,
no one was around her.
She
tried to open her eyes, felt little burning in them.
“How
are you feeling ma’am?” asked the doctor.
“Why
the hell I can’t see?” she asked and
started weeping like a widow.
The
doctor told her, “the gun powder took your sight, may be because you held the
gun too close.”
“No!!! It
was a quite a distance” she cried.
“Wind
was blowing, it was the wind’s fault not mine” she screamed
“There
are chances; I mean it can be temporary also. Your eyes sight might come back
in a few weeks”, the doctor said.
“Is he
dead, where is he I will kill him,” shouted Rekhaa.
“Kill
who” asked the constable.
“Samrat”
“He was
standing outside the door and he was wearing the blue shirt”.
“Ma’am
it was me, I was at the door but I’m not Samrat. I was there to ask you for the
accommodation. You have a To-Let board on the fence” he replied.
“People
of the society told us that when the shot was fired, he was standing at the
door and when you fainted, he broke the door and took you to the hospital”,
constable stated to Rekhaa.
Rekhaa
thought it was him, who was the greatest loss of her life. She almost ruined
herself. Her career was at the verge of an end, the house she bought was going
to be seized by the bank. An accident just happened that took her eyes and now
she is an artist without eyesight. May be one day she will be able see again
but right now she is just cursing herself and confused also because she is
failing to decide what the real loss was. The one when Samrat left her or
losing her eyesight.
Life is
a series of losing what you have. We just have to choose which one is greater.
THE END
