The curtains were flapping silently in the room while the fan whirred and whirred.
There were a mixture of noises in the background: clanking of the utensils, splashing of water & a pressure cooker's whistle with the steam sputtering out.
The rush of people getting ready to go to office could be seen with a car moving out of the compound every other minute. The honking of numerous cars on the roads, the revving of bikes and the screeching horns of autos while they tried to get through every small space available on the road.
And she was sitting there holding the wet towel that had been thrown away in haste & anger. The cold wet towel was getting soaked more and more with the hot tears which kept welling up every now and then. A sob would suddenly escape and make the curtains aware of her presence. Why could she not get him back?
Trying to hold on to him through remnants of unfinished talks on the pillow case. They had heard her whispers while her words fell on those un-hearing ears while he acted as if he was asleep. Picking up the newspaper left near the bathroom sink to read what he might have read. The cereal box remained at the dining table and so was the carton of milk. The lunch box of yesterday was looking out to be cleaned.
But he had left. Without a word. The heaviness of her heart made it difficult to breathe. Like something was clamping down her soul. But it was like a mirage, slipped through her fingers when she thought she had held it with her heart.
And what was left behind was only a shadow of the shadow.
There were a mixture of noises in the background: clanking of the utensils, splashing of water & a pressure cooker's whistle with the steam sputtering out.
The rush of people getting ready to go to office could be seen with a car moving out of the compound every other minute. The honking of numerous cars on the roads, the revving of bikes and the screeching horns of autos while they tried to get through every small space available on the road.
And she was sitting there holding the wet towel that had been thrown away in haste & anger. The cold wet towel was getting soaked more and more with the hot tears which kept welling up every now and then. A sob would suddenly escape and make the curtains aware of her presence. Why could she not get him back?
Trying to hold on to him through remnants of unfinished talks on the pillow case. They had heard her whispers while her words fell on those un-hearing ears while he acted as if he was asleep. Picking up the newspaper left near the bathroom sink to read what he might have read. The cereal box remained at the dining table and so was the carton of milk. The lunch box of yesterday was looking out to be cleaned.
But he had left. Without a word. The heaviness of her heart made it difficult to breathe. Like something was clamping down her soul. But it was like a mirage, slipped through her fingers when she thought she had held it with her heart.
And what was left behind was only a shadow of the shadow.
