Each day, her physical weakness was singing louder in her…the heartbeat was often erratic, a slight ache under her left breast pierced through her veins lining her left arm. A figure, was silently passing her days under the fog.
Her husband had passed away soon after retirement…
‘I have no children to look after me in old age’, … her husband often used to complain. She was frightened now of going into this dark 'fit' like her husband…but, her spirit protested and eventually got her out of this trap, and escape!
Next morning, Sunaina opened the window. Strangely, the clouds seemed no where ... there were vibrant colors on the washing line and a series of parallel bars of sunlight fringing the edge of her courtyard. She tried to grasp the slanting rays...!
'Ah-ah-hmm,'she muttered as her eyes roved up and down the horizon.
There was a blank moment. She thought about-The setting sun. So soon?, There’s still time for that….she mumbled. Nothing could distract her now. She took a few steps backwards, sat on her table, and jotted a few lines. Blinked.
Realization came in. There was no wisdom in wasting strength in keeping relationships with people who secretly avoided her. Ugly community only put barriers round a person. Best was to get into a prison to close off the rest of the world...and be totally free, sitting alone in the desk.
Habits, our daily routines, are the best crutches. Sink into something you love!
So, she scrawled again a few lines on a piece of paper and shoved it under the glass top of her table. She calmed herself with the thought: Writing was a big possibility to cope with solitude….’There was a relief.
There was light in her life. Words started framing themselves in her mind…and her writings brought her glad tidings and peace. She wrote almost a thousand words per week, wrote to the editors…meddled to satisfy a brand of editors who published her poems in their magazines. Her poetry writing, probably, aroused in her an appetite for love….!
At this juncture, came in Ashok, her college-mate with streaks of light, and changed her life forever. The first day she met him at the poet’s meet after many many years; he attracted her once again like a magnet--with his grace, charm, his nonchalance. His presence lifted her higher and higher, diluting the darkness...Their talks had a vivid immediacy that went to the heart.
A widow and a widower began to think about a new life, an unstained future!
Smiling at her, revealing a fetching gap between his front teeth he said, ‘Radha, we couldn't have been in love with each other at any other time in our lives — only right now!’
Hugging herself tightly, in the inky dark, glazed with tears that were compounded equally of relief and regret. "Whatever our age, we still have the same hopes, joys, jealousies, passions as we always did, same everything - we're just a bit wrinkly, Ashok…’, Sunaina blubbered.
“When you're missing a piece of yourself, aching, gut wrenching emptiness begins to take over. Until you find the link that completes your very soul, the feeling will never go away. Most people find a way to fill this void, material possessions, a string of relationships, affairs, food...I bear my soul, with words, for all to see.”
― Jennifer Salaiz
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