I'll Cover You

  • November 2019
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I’ll Cover You A Short Story By The Saruaon “A longing after more than outward pleasure, A digging to discover hidden treasure. An Aesop's net, where mouselike you may see A nibbling coney set a lion free. The pleasant'st game that ever was invented. The sweetest sin, so hard to be repented, That makes the lawyer plead without a fee And the divine commit idolatry; That makes the daring soldier to prefer A single combat far before the war; Turns age to youth, that once again they might In August taste of pleasant May's delight.” – Anon.

That must be the craziest letter on the planet. Quickly her attention shifted towards the door as she continued to hold on to the piece of paper in her hand. Ring. There was a ring at the door. She should probably answer that. She reluctantly moved to the door. Maybe he was right in his judgment that she was the laziest woman he had met. A smile slowly spread on her face as she thought of the better moments they had shared. It seemed so distant and fleeting. She forced herself to get up as the ringing at the door had not ceased. The ring sounded almost angry and that irritated her. These headaches are getting too much. The ringing seemed to grow more frequent as she neared the door. She stood a few feet away from the door, as if she could turn away and not answer the door. The more she stood waiting for something to happen, the heavier the pink cotton smock seemed to get. Her hair felt as if it was getting knotted up with sweat and the room seemed to blur. It was just a ring at the door and surely she should be able to answer that. The sunlight that had swept the room despite the curtained windows seemed to withdraw. The frame of the door appeared extremely dominant and looked as if it were alive. Something from beyond the door wanted to get at her. She tried to shut her mind to it but it was getting stronger as her feet felt as if they were cemented to the floor. Her palms broke sweat and she shut her eye for a moment trying to regain control. It was not helping her. The ring at the door was now a continuous buzz that she could not help but listen to. Suddenly, the ringing stopped. It was a moment of liberation for her. Her heartbeat slowed down and she breathed gulping air. She made quick steps with her eyes set on the floor. She turned around and headed back to the safety of her living room. She breathed deeply and looked up. The door was still staring at her. The ringing started, again.

*** Autumn was not the most appealing scene of that city. The rain exposed the failure of the governing system in their inefficiently laid roads. The indistinct yellow robbed the city’s beauty, failing to give a contrast to the already aged looking fort. The dull grey substituting the bright blue was yet another dampener that cold morning. She hated waking up. Yesterday, she woke up feeling most pleasant about the exact same things that irritated her. She had cuddled in her bed with a lazy smile, while now she lay curled, her eyelids refusing to open and expressing that vehemence in a scowl. Long moments passed when she dragged herself off the bed and onto a chair switching on her laptop. She deleted an unknown number of mails that promised her a load of money if she gave her account details, ones that guaranteed an extended sex life and those that did not make sense to even those who sent them. She was careless about what she was discarding, for she very well knew what she was looking for. She smiled as she saw his mail. She was a doctor by profession and a healer by choice. She led twin lives doing what she was expected of in one and trying to break free from the same. She did not have a discontented life. On the contrary, she felt that everything was too full around her; too much of comfort, security, stability and even freedom. She decided to either kill herself or start her life all over the day when she realized that in her life, there was one thing that was not there at all – Love. No, she said. She had love all around her, but she did not have love as she sought it. It started off as a story simple enough. She was a most eligible girl with a mind clogged by doubts and despair and she was in search of love. She never thought it crazy that she had always developed each possible course of action into an entire plot and checked the pros and cons of the action. In this story, she realized that elements of unrequited love, strange meetings, passion, wrong choices and betrayal were quite possible. As any other person who wants love but are scared about it, she drew her defenses up. She knew it too. And she worried that she may never find love. She was wrong, for she met me soon enough. *** Yesterday is always another day. It had so much more hope and life seemed more fascinating than it has turned out to be. I wonder if it is so much as our pessimism as it is our escapism that makes us love yesterdays. Quite possibly we keep wondering about the what-if’s that we have let pass in our life. What if I had chosen science instead of arts? What if I had mustered enough courage to ask out the best looking girl in college? What if I had stolen the hundred bucks from my dad? What if I had taken the bus? What if I had followed my heart? What if, well, I had asked her to come back? People relish yesterday for they imagine a moment where choices are suspended. Yesterday is much safer to live in. Like the baby that cries wishing it could be back in the womb where things cozier, we want to crawl back into a slice in time where change does not confront us. It took me a really long while to understand this, and longer to accept this. It was then I took on a mission; a mission to face the greatest challenge yet – Today. ***

“Dude, you look killer man!” I fancied myself in the mirror one more time as my face cracks smiling, when I could not help but ask, “Really?” “No!” scowled my best friend. I was a little slow when it came to grasping sarcasm. I thought it to be the most artless figure of speech. “You are going to wear a necktie? It’s a date for God’s sake! When they say impressive, they mean look-at-me-for-I-want-tosweep-you-off-the-floor impressive, definitely not this-is-the-best-detergent-in-town impressive!” “Oh please, I don’t look like a salesman.” In fact, I thought I did. Not the detergent salesman but the more vulgar and less classy medical-salesman. Somehow that image took off the comic edge to things as I have treated them the parasites that they are. They were vermin barging into precious time of doctors when patients needed attention that would determine the difference between life and death. I ripped off the tie and asked again, “Now?” My friend moved closer as he adjusted my collar and opened up the first button of the shirt. “Relax bro! This is not a stranger you are going to meet. This is your girlfriend from high-school. You both are familiar with each other. Why are you being so nervous about it? It is not like you are a green one when it comes to women!” My shoulders drooped in frustration, for that was exactly the point. How should he know that this girl would be any different? I wondered without an answer, why should this girl be any different? I turned to my friend and spoke though I knew that I was only trying to convince myself. “She was not my girlfriend. I hardly knew her for a year back then and eight years later I screwed it up so badly that I could not face her till now. She has taken an effort now bro and I do not want to come across as a lethargic excuse for a guy. She may not even remember the last time, but I do and that makes it so difficult for me. Now that she is back in town she dropped by a line saying if we could meet over coffee. That is mostly a courtesy thing. Anyone would do it. I have lived all my life in this small town. And I myself can assure that I have changed a lot from high school to now. She is a girl from the world and you expect her to remain the same?” “Alright! Alright! You should be the one listening to your own words for you are the one that is most worked up and worried over meeting her. I have not seen you like this and this is not a pleasant sight. So all I am telling you is to just be yourself and keep it in your mind that this is like any other girl who you are meeting over coffee. And hey, remember Kottaipuram is no small town!” *** “Waiter, bring me water!” She noticed the slight smile on my face. She hesitated, but she asked anyway. “Is something wrong?” I assured her that things were alright. She asked me again. I looked down at the table as if the answer to her question was written on the napkin on my lap. I drew my breath in and looked at her face. My biology teacher, I said. “Beg your pardon?”

I repeated what I had said. I added that according to my biology teacher, one can find the nature of a person by the way they treat waiters. She leaned forward and I noticed how beautiful she was, again. I continued before she could notice I was pausing. I explained that everyone is nice to those people from whom they have something to gain from, like a social superior, friend, colleague, parent or even a spouse. People are rarely nice without a reason; except for the nice people. So, my teacher had summed up that a person who is nice to the waiter is probably a nice person. She nodded and was silent for a moment before she asked. “What if they just are paranoid that the waiter may spit in their food?” I laughed. I suddenly realized that I was escaping using the route of laughing when I did not want to answer. I stopped. Maybe I was just standing up to prove myself to be an alpha male, or maybe I really was in a mood to answer every last thing in the world. I knew that it was neither. I just did want to have to pretend to her – anyone, but her. Cynicism, I told her, was a mask that people wore when they knew that the opposite was probably true. I looked at her again, and contemplated just for a moment before telling her. You are cynical because you believe that there are people who can be nice without anticipating a return. Fact is, you are one too, but are too afraid to be that for that is not the general way of things. Silence followed before she broke it when she said, “So you mean to say that I was rude to the waiter about the water?” She laughed and at that moment, I knew that I did not have to answer. I knew that she will never pretend to be anything than what she was. I smiled again and relaxed in my chair. Great going genius, I told myself. The night was just beginning. *** I had so much fun that evening that I could not even recall why we dropped out of contact back then. It was all fuzzy and vague, the past was. I realized that I had led a life that was annotated only by the various events that I seemed to remember. I could not recall her from my year in school at all. I should kick myself, for she was the closest thing to a girlfriend in that short while she spent in my school. We shared lunches and all. She was a faceless blur in school. Like most others from school were. And it was not unusual in school for a student to join the academic year and leave during the same. Those children were the floaters. We envied their lives of constant discovery, but they envied us for our stable and quite surprisingly, normal life. That was one of the first few times that we spoke about when we started conversing over the internet after eight years. I honestly did not even remember much of her face, and using the bits of what I did, I made up an image of this dorky girl wearing glasses. She must have thought something to the same effect for me too. But, what I saw was totally a different story. She was initially very shy to send a picture over the internet. She was worried about how I would receive it. She still had not grown out of that phase of unfamiliarity I guess. But when she did send her picture, it was a huge slap across my face. She was simply stunning. The glasses were there alright and she had not completely shed the awkward studiousness that laced her appearance, but her obvious beauty and glowering charm was not lost even on that low-resolution digital camera image. You can trust me when I say that I have seen my fair share of beautiful women. To be frank, I have

seen more than my good share; but no girl has ever swept me completely off my feet as she did. There was something more in her rather than plain beauty. She found me actually. We both had been members of this website which offered connectivity to people across continents. Lost friends, friends who did not have the time to say hi when we bumped into in real lives, friends who were never our friends when we knew them were all there on that website. But mostly it was the forte of people who specialized in the art of flirting endlessly. I was amused about the irrelevance of such conversations and also by the circular route that those conversations usually took. The only reason I was on that site was to chat up with old friends currently in distant lands who would run up huge bills if it meant talking over the telephone. I had a message on an extremely boring day at work. It was a very tenacious hi. From a person who had given the name to be, the Magical Smile. Such corny lines turned me off and I was about to delete the message, pretty sure that it was forwarded by some computer somewhere which would subsequently offer to deposit money in my account if I gave my account details. A second message followed and it had my name on it. A question mark at the end of the name suggested that the person was not sure if I was someone known. As I contemplated replying, a third message hit my inbox. It was a rather apologetic message if I was not the person sought after. It gave me a name that I did not immediately grasp. But slowly I remembered the person. It was incredible that after all those years, she dropped a line. It is not impossible to find someone on the internet, but it sure as hell was not easy. Her taking time to do so impressed me and given the six thousand miles of separation – her attention was special. Not that people who were closer were any meaner, but her effort was evident. What started off as an inkling to the lost past soon developed into an interest in each other’s life. The interest grew into concern and respect into admiration. Months passed when I woke up one day realizing that the threshold of love had been crossed too, for I could not think of thinking anything that I could let be without sharing it with her. Never cross the line. I used to tell me. But this time, well, she was worth it. *** She was the smartest girl I had known and her being the sweetest was only a huge plus. She often accused me of being extremely naïve and I should concede that I have done some pretty dumb things. I forgot almost everything that I needed to remember. Not because I was lazy to remember them, but I often preoccupied my mind with something else. I remembered the most unnecessary things as well. And she had been the victim of my memory for the two years we had kept in touch over the internet. I had missed so many overseas calls that she lost track of the same, I never replied the mail on time, and most often I left the headphones in the car with the iPod. I even forgot her birthday, twice. We never knew why she put up with so much with me despite my being so me! I never asked her for the mystery kind of felt special. But she did put up with me and I had some of the best conversations with her on simple text messages. We discussed cuisines, books, culture, clothes, people, habits, Calvin and Hobbes, poetry, sex, scandals, politics, movies, psychology, architecture, art, literature, comics, music, drugs, addiction, glasses, Harry Potter and chocolates; and much more. We never stopped having things to talk about. I worked from home for a journal at that time, so when I was not chilling out with

friends, I was online. And though my messenger list had a lot of active members, I spoke to only one person. My sweetness, as I grew to call her. A cold splash of water could bring back so many memories. I smile to myself as I walk out of the restroom wiping away the water off my face. I did not make a good impression in the first fifteen minutes of the dinner; the highlight being my knocking off the soup on my shirtsleeve while trying to help her with hers. She rested on the chair like a queen, a tired one, but still a queen. She had a large grin on her face when I returned to my seat. My eyes enquired her about the sudden mirth. “Oh my God! You still are exactly the same, aren’t you? You still can’t eat without making a mess of the table!” “I never made a mess while I ate!” “Uh huh? Confess now, or be condemned to be a victim of my wit!” My eyes narrowed, I asked feigning seriousness, “Now, is that Shakespeare?” She rolled back her head and laughed as I got a glimpse of her long and flawless neck. Mischievous as ever, she replied, “Well, you asked for it. If you don’t make a mess of the table while eating, is it that you do it exclusively with me? Are you intimidated by me?” I knew where the conversation was heading to and I was thankfully saved by the waiter who asked us for our choice of the main course. But she was right back on track when the waiter left. I replied curiously, “You know, I don’t remember you being so impish!” “You don’t remember a lot of things my boy. And nor do I remember you being so stuck up!” Laughing out loud, she asked in a whisper, “So, do you concede that you are scared of me?” A little bit, I told. And she started laughing all over again. She spoke sincerely, “You do not know how happy I am to have met you.” When she said that, I realized that there was some melancholy she was trying to run away from. I did not see sorrow in her eyes or despair in her voice, but there was something about the way she said it that disturbed me from the otherwise usual setting. I told her the same. I was aware of my mistake when I saw that she sobered up instantly. She did not stop talking, but her words were guarded. She had always given me more than one chance and I knew that I would get lucky this time too. Everybody had a little soft corner for personal history. None really regretted venturing back in time to savor the best moments and laughing over the embarrassing ones. I remembered a day from school when we were supposed to dramatize some skit for the History class. I asked her if she remembered that too and it did not take much to get her started talking about those old days. *** She had not forgotten even a single detail. She was not a timid girl, but she was not particularly fond of the limelight either. And so she naturally took up the writing portion of the skit. I never was really fond of spending time indoors and I opted to act for I thought acting would be merely saying a few lines on the day of the skit. That was how we always did skits. But how wrong was I

to think that she would do the same. Details. She gave new meaning to that word. She worked on our clothes, designs and original lines that we were to do. The other kids were all excited about the skit and her contagious excitement made them equally interested. I was immune to the idea that anything done indoors could be any fun. Since it was during the start of the term, I escaped citing sports practices but that did not deter her as she rescheduled practice timings. I was rude to her and she still persisted. I ignored and that was the final straw. When I thought that I had finally dodged her, she had found her ultimate ally; my mother. My mother thought her to be the perfect little girl and had taken her word as the gospel in making me do everything that was required for the skit. The term end came closer and I decided that I would put an end to this two mothers business. I pulled her pigtail, metaphorically, when I told her that my mother thought she was a little devil and wished that she would be eaten up by a witch like Gretel from Hansel and Gretel. Now I know that it was a pretty horrible thing to do. But back then it seemed to be a damn good way of getting rid a thorn in the side. Strangely, I felt awfully remorseful for what I had done and studied my lines and gave her a performance that she was happy with. It was ever since that we became the thickest of friends. She was a most likeable girl and I liked her the most. *** So with a thousand sweet kisses I'll cover you… The words coming from her lips sounded too good to be real. I wanted them to be caressing words of intimacy though I knew that she was only humming the lines of the song played in the car radio. The movie after the dinner had us inches away from each other, but still I was afraid to grasp her hand. I did not want to make a mistake when it was her. Now she was still inches away from me in the car but I still did not make a move. I wanted it to be perfect with her. Besides, I had had my share of embarrassments for the day. Another screw up would make it officially the worst screw up in the world; an idea that did not thrill me all that much. Things were going good until we were at the movie theater. I told her off the cuff that I had totally forgotten that I had already seen the movie just last week. It was the little things that I forgot, I told her. She was not amused when she recounted how she had waited all by herself in the airport for three hours the previous time she was in the city. Three hours on Christmas. It came back to me. I remember having promised someone that I would take them for the Christmas dance. But I forgot. Worse, I even forgot forgetting it! She figured that out by the look on my face. I was working on one of my projects. Though I happen to be an advertising accounts executive, it was on something else closer to my heart that I was busy with. Hairspray ads did not command so much attention from me. It was horses that I loved, and though I never had enough money to by one I learnt everything that ever was needed to be known about a horse. I passed my time by visiting the nearby ranch and sketching the majestic beasts there. I rarely got an assignment from one of the proud owners to sketch their horse. I would oblige gladly in exchange for some fee which I never fixed. That Christmas, I was paid in kind; with quality home made wine. I took comfort in that bottle after three hours of exhausting painting. I had forgotten her, and this time, without doing something important with that time. What made me most guilt

was that she believed that I was sketching something; something that she considered greater than herself. It did not seem to matter that I was telling her why I blew a date which she arranged by breaking a six-thousand mile journey for me. But now I realized why she had never mailed me ever since. If I had wanted to drown myself in my own stupidity, I think I would have succeeded. No apologies could make it any better. Though she had gotten over the incident years ago, my entirely forgetting the event did not favor me. She could not believe the extent of my memory fault and I could not convincingly explain. I have a doubt that she will think me of using the standard guy excuse, oh! But I forgot. I am sorry! But really– I am not asking for any explanations, she said. A polite pop corn and an uneventful ice-cream ended the movie. I still cannot recall the name of the movie we were watching. And now my car pulled up at the hotel where she was staying. My nervous fingers on the steering wheel gave her an idea of what I had on my mind and she was not making it any easier by discussing every insignificant thing that she saw. I finally halted the car and got out of the vehicle. She waited for me to open the door and let her out of the car like the queen she was. I looked at her face and she smiled once more. All my nervousness faded in that moment when I realized that no matter how many times I had screwed up that day; she would not have it any other way. I realized that she made me feel okay even with all the mistakes that I made. Now in place of the embarrassment stood my regret of missing her so many years ago. She liked me as I was and that made me proud. She completed me and for that, I loved her. I asked her with a boldness that I did not know I had, “Can I kiss you?” Her smiled vanished as she looked into my eyes, came closer and in a lost moment, we were kissing each other. No moments were shorter in my life than those that I kissed her. I wanted more of her when she drew her head away from mine and teased me with her eyes before saying, “That was fourteen years overdue.” *** She surely looked all irritated for I was some half an hour late. I watched her waiting patiently at a distance and I stood admiring her for a moment before went near her. Surprisingly she did not seem displeased. She said it was alright when I started explaining why I had turned up so late. I did not understand why she had not spoken one harsh word. It was very uncharacteristic for I remember being screamed at for being merely five minutes late. I discovered on the way that she was giving me the cold treatment. She spoke only when spoken to. But that won’t go on for long, I thought. When she saw my block coming closer, she shot a puzzling look at me. She was surely not pleased that she had waited all that while to come back to my apartment. “You could have asked me to come over directly.” I told her that I was a little busy and that was why I had asked her to wait till I picked her up. If my time lapse hadn’t already done much damage, these last words just did it. She shot an angry look at me and I acted as if I did not notice. I knew that if I stopped one moment and gave her the much required eye contact, she would have quite a mouthful to say. I quickly got off the car and rushed to my floor on the block, hoping she would follow. She followed stoically, totally disinterested and ever so pissed. A little while longer darling, I thought. I put the key to the door when I got a call on my mobile phone.

Asking her to open the door, I moved closer to the window for a clearer signal. She opened the door and a look of surprise filled her face. She turned to look at me as I cut the fake call and smiled at her amazement. It took me six hours to set the place up, but that sure was worth the look on her face. I walked closer to her and opened the door wider, and she slowly raised her hand to her mouth. The rectangular hall had been emptied and the ground was full of Styrofoam broken down to fine bits. There were cardboard cut outs of people, celebrities and animals. Candles had replaced the bright electric lights adding a pleasant coolness to the ambience. At the far end of the house was a six foot tall Christmas tree, decked up and lighted with serial circuits. Balloons hangings in red and white and food on the table conjured the theme of the event. I took a shawl from the chair near the door and wrapped it around her. It was going to be pretty cold this Christmas, I promised. The extreme low temperature set on the air-conditioner paid off even during the MidApril evening. I smiled as I took her to the center of the room where just above us was the disco ball. I had put it up there just for the heck of it. She laughed when she saw that. Her eyes looked glassy as she was overwhelmed. The evening was just beginning my dear one, I told her. We danced to quick Christmas numbers and jived to the Rock n Roll of the past. She loved to dance, I remembered her telling me, but I saw that she was just as good. I had programmed my disc player for a good three hours’ music. We found ourselves dancing, eating, talking and laughing only to the rhythm of the beats. The music was moving us from within. We became the last two strangers left in the world, not caring about what each others’ past held but celebrating the moment that we had together. As the evening progressed the slower songs played. I danced closer to her as she was leaning on me. Iris, the song by Goo Goo Dolls played and I told her that it was one of my most favorite songs. It had the best opening lines of a love poem. We both swayed to the lyrics, ‘And I'd give up forever to touch you Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be And I don't want to go home right now.’ Somehow, we felt touched deep inside. As if something spiritual was taking place within us. I knew that the moment was right. I told her that I would regret not asking her. She had a questioning look on her face. I removed from my pocket, a small box. Her eyes were glassy with tears again. I gave it a full moment to sink in before I told her. “I want you. I want you to want me. I know that this the way it was meant to be. I hope you see it too. I don’t say that I would love you forever. I don’t promise you anything extravagant. I am the kind of person that might actually forget the wedding date. But I tell you this, that if I do not spend the rest of my life with you, I would know it for a fact that I am making a huge mistake. If not for the big things, I want you to say yes for all the little things that I can give you. Baby, I love you.” It seemed to take forever, but I knew that she would nod her agreement. We kissed. A heady rush filled my head. I couldn’t believe it. We were engaged. *** She had not left her house for over a week now, you have to do something.

Her mother’s words kept ringing in my head. I had to do something, but what could I do? She had avoided seeing me completely. The first couple of days, I understood that she had not gotten over the shock. But ten days had passed and she had not spoken a word to me. She had refused to see anyone, told her father. It stung me to know that I had been classified with everyone. Her mother tearfully added that the last time she had left the house was for that funeral. The image of her screaming was fixed in my mind. I felt guilty for what happened. I should not let her do it. But I knew that I was wrong. It would have happened no matter how different the scenario was. Accidents sometimes seem to have a strange inevitability about them that borders about the supernatural. I asked God, why? Why on the night when we got engaged? She wanted her parents to know the first thing we got engaged. We took the car and headed to her home. I chose a different route which I loved driving by at that time of the day. She was amazed at the wide spread ranch and was fascinated when I told her that I came there to observe the horses. She wanted to see the horses too. I decided to steer into the ranch at the dead of the night and woke up the guard to let us in. Though he was usually a good natured man and knew me well, he took a hefty tip to comply at the odd hour. She was definitely happy about her wish coming true so quickly and that was all I had wanted, to see her smile. We were inside the stables and all the horses were in their sheds. I paid the man extra to get one of the horses out. It was so late in the night that no one would notice. I helped her onto the horse and she had a look of absolute exhilaration on her face. She loved that moment. From the highest point, things often went downhill; as it did that moment. The horse neighed suddenly and took a start. The guard panicked and ran after the horse. I chased the horse with the love of my life on it. Quickly it bucked and ran in the opposite direction. I have never come across such cases of sudden bouts of madness in horses but it was not a time to recollect my memory. The guard stepped quickly to the side of the horse and held its reigns in a move too agile for anyone his size. The horse seemed to come back under his control. He grinned sheepishly as if that made everything alright. I helped her off the horse and while she was getting off, her leg tripped in one of the reigns and tugged at the horse. It jumped again. It was at that moment I noticed that the saddle had not been properly laid out and it must have poked the horse somewhere on its back. The saddle was coming further off when he tried controlling the horse without any avail. I tried fruitlessly shouting at him trying to explain the problem. The moment he turned to look at me, the saddle strap came undone and got caught in the horse’s hoof. It tripped and fell sideways on the clueless guard. She turned and gripped me in a tight embrace when we both heard something snap. Like a twig under the hot summer sun. I never left her side fore the next two days and she constantly kept crying. The closeness of death often overwhelmed people. She insisted that we attended the funeral. At the funeral, we stood through eyes that threw daggers at us. The police had warned us for the breaking of law by entering the ranch, but did not press charges for the accident could have happened to anyone. By the third day, her sobbing had become incessant and she refused to have anything to eat too.

That evening, I was reading a book by her bed as she had fallen into a tired sleep. She woke up and saw me sitting by her. She was sober when she looked at me. I asked her if she wanted something to eat or drink. She just asked me to leave. I said that I would come back in the morning with some breakfast. She looked at me for a long moment before she said, “Every time I look at you, I am reminded of the fact that I am a murderer. I have killed someone and I live a shameless life. Every moment I spend with you is a horrible reminder of my guilt. So please leave. Please…” I did not receive the blow in full until after a night had passed. But at the moment, I just got up and walked out the door slamming it behind me. I heard starting to sob the moment I left, but I did not turn back to check on her. *** I was at her gate again the next morning despite myself. How dare she spoke to me the way she did? She thinks me as a part of a difficult past that she wants to bury and I am nobody’s baggage. I am out of your life, damn it! Some thoughts are only thought up and never applied. Of course, these thoughts couldn’t change the fact that I still loved her. In a crazy sort of way, I loved her more, for there was completeness in the humanity of her visage now. I was at her gate, the morning after. She refused to see me. What was going on in that mind of hers? That was one question that seemed to find no answer. If I do not get her back now, I knew that it was the end. I am no prophet, but that morning, I knew that I will bring her back. When I saw her eyes… I was on the phone with her father and they had left the house as I requested. I moved in front of the door and took a deep breath. By then she would have received the letter and she must be thinking about a lot of things. Was it a right moment when I rang the doorbell? I do not know, but I rang it. I kept quiet for a moment and then recalling how much of a lazy bum she was, I rang again. I heard footsteps. Slow and unsteady, someone was nearing the door from the other side. Come on, babe, you can do it. My finger reached out for the bell again. I waited there for the next seventeen minutes ringing the bell as I knew for a fact that she was on the other side of the door. Very close. Just a little bit more. You can do it. I lost patience and started walking away from the door. I stood at the entrance of the house and lit a cigarette. She hated my smoking and had often expressed that I would be better off without smoking those killers. I took a deep breath of the heady smoke. It was my first cigarette in weeks. As the gray smoke spread through the last pulmonary sac in my body, an epiphany hit me. I blew out the wind even as I crushed the cigarette and rushed back to the door. Not giving up meant to keep at it even without a possible victory at sight. I rang the bell, again. *** “In your arms, I find strength at my weakest, assurance in my ugliest, love at my worst. Give me one reason why you should love me?” I only smiled, oh my dear God! She thinks that she is lucky to have me? “Sweetness, give me one reason why I should not love you?” It had been three weeks since I saw her collapse in front of me when she opened the door. Knowing that something was not their fault and accepting it are two different things. She had gotten over the first phase, but the second was taking its time. But I knew

that with time, it will be alright. She needed a change and I was trying to get her do things that she had never tried before. We often went swimming that week, and I discovered that she had a natural fondness of the water. We went out for dinners, read books together, discussed music, movies and argued politics. Things were back to the time when we used to chat over the internet. We rediscovered the path of being each other’s confidant, best friend and strength. The respect that we had for each other had grown exponentially and we understood the love we had for each other better. Everything happens for a purpose, I found myself mouthing that cliché thinking about the course of events. I had one last surprise. I called her from my phone and asked her to come out of the house. She was dumbstruck for a moment. It was something that she had always wanted to do. Ride on a bike with me. I had sold my car and picked up a custom designed bike. Blazing in black and red, my bike stood with the majesty of royalty. I smiled at her, and knew that she was happy. A trip down these fragments of my memory will help revive her. I have given you a fairly complete account of the events. I hope you realize how much she means to me. I ask you guys for this huge favor and I know that it is even unreasonable on my part. But somehow I have a feeling that this will help. I want you to bring her back. It will take time, but I know that she will be back. Tell her how much happier I would be if she made an effort to be happy. Tell her that I will not part her for a moment and never will she be lonely. Tell her, that I love her. *** Baby, I am sorry that you feel vulnerable and I couldn’t do anything to change it. I am sorry that I have caused so much hurt and conflict within you. But I can’t let you go. I want you so bad. You keep the door shut and tell me that I remind you of that horrible night? But a thought of you always reminds me of all those good times we had. Punish me in whatever other way but to keep me away from you. Please don’t deny us a chance. I wanted to kill myself for being a part of another’s death. But I realized that the end of my life will not bring him back. I know that his death will stand to value if I lived on and effected changes to make a better life. But I don’t have the strength to do this alone. Sweetness, help me. Come back to me. Let us start over. Please. Break this wall that is between us. Open the door my love. Yours. *** The room was empty a moment ago. But now it was full of those people I trust. They were all fun and jokes now, but I remembered the look of horror in their eyes just yesterday when that happened. She had not been informed yet, and I did not want them to tell her any sooner. One of them took a picture of my unearthly appearance. I joked about the way I looked. I had Angelina Jolie’s lips. I loved myself so much that I bit my own lips. I look like daffy duck. I am not a virgin anymore, I feel fucked. Things like that. In silent moments, we looked at each other and communicated meaning without words. Thank you for saving my life. I was so worried for you. You guys are the best. Are

you alright? It was my fault completely. There was no indication of that bump there on the road. She does not know yet, does she? There is something that we need to tell. I cannot tell you how much I owe it to you guys. We love you. Without you all, my life makes little sense. Please stop being reckless. I do not know how to thank you guys. Moments passed before I told them, “I really do not remember anything that happened last night. The last thing that I can recall is that I took a turn into the Kottaipuram Ring road and waited for the other guys on the bike. I saw your car overtake me. What happened next?” The answers came collectively, each adding to the detail. “You don’t remember?” “I guess it happens in the state of shock.” “We three were the first to see you. You don’t recall hitting that road bump?” “You just took off; your bike was at least four feet in the air.” “We dint see you fly but we heard it. There were sparks everywhere and metal screeching.” “For a moment there, I thought it was over. I could see you lay in a pool of blood and twitching.” “You did not scream. I think you passed out then. The scariest part was that you were bleeding all over your face.” “Oh God! He lifted you and we rushed to that hospital.” “The next thing we see is that you are hitting on the nurse!” We all had a laugh of reassurance. It was over. They bid their farewells after warning me to be a little more careful while riding. I handed my best friend a bunch of sheets which I had typed that morning. Read it later, I told him. They told me that she was waiting outside for me. For a moment, I froze. They had told her about me. I did not want to see her. Correction, I did not want her to see me. My friends left giving me time alone with her. She walked in and saw me smile as best as I could with a broken nose and a cut lip. I am very angry with you she said. She cried. She kissed me. It hurt my lip, but I did not tell her. Just cuts and scratches baby, I told her. I will be back home by tomorrow. I promised. She stayed there the entire evening. I had not told anyone about the infection in my lungs. It was a matter of time; I had heard the doctors speak. Breathing was difficult, but I’d take care of it soon. I almost told her when she was leaving. I just told her, I love you, instead. I did, love her. *** ‘Broke my heart, I saw it coming from the start I really hate to see the shape I’m in Broke all the rules and you know life can be cruel but I think it’s time I learned to swim Show me there still can be some mystery… Show me a way out of this misery…’ – Lifeline, Colin Hay.

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