If...

Bleak. The clouds rolled slowly, heavy and dark, as if in deep thoughts. It was raining, hard drops hitting at an angle, shattering the silence. The road was broken, puddles forming at places with drops forming patterns on it. Trees were almost bare, their branches sticking out as if crying for help. One of the trees was completely bare, splitting into two branches that looked oddly like a stump. The night was gloomy and overbearing. The distant rumbling of the clouds added to the ominous feeling. The sudden flashes of lightening showed that it was deserted. Almost. Save for the lone figure that walked on the broken road, head bent, the profile of a young woman barely discernable beneath the several shapeless drabs that she was wearing. All black, as if in deep mourning.

Another flash of lightening revealed her face, a pretty one. Fair complexion that contrasted with her deep dark eyes. Well defined eyebrows, perfectly shaped. There was no trace of make-up on her face though in the depths of the dark night, it almost looked as if her face was radiating light. Her hair was hidden in her cape, though one could make out that they were a mix of black and chestnut brown, set in a natural curling style. She looked to be a practical lady of 30, though at the moment her eyes looked troubled and her face was drawn up in concentration, giving a hint as to the turmoil going in her head.

The rain pelted down harder, making her bow her head furthermore. It was a battle against the very spirit and element of nature. It was a battle against the world. It was a battle against herself. She felt choked by her own thoughts. They brought tears to her eyes, but she tried to fight them back. A few of them rolled down her cheek and were lost in the rain. She did not care. All that was of concern to her were two things: her thoughts and the one about whom her thoughts were.

The road went on and on, seemingly endless. So did the tumult of her thoughts. “I have finally done it”, she thought, both happy and scared. “I should never have left home”, she countered. “Home is where the heart is. My heart I s not my own. I have given it”. “He is not yours”. She kept countering and counter-countering herself.

She thought back, ten years ago. They were good friends. Very good. Everyone thought they were more than friends. He, of course, had no such intentions. She, on the other hand, adored him. Loved him. Could almost feel her breathing stop if for a moment she thought she had angered him. He knew it but he never let it affect their friendship. For as much as he was concerned, she knew his thoughts and understood them. It did not really bother him as to what the rest of them were saying. College would soon be over in a less than a year, they would part their ways. They would remain in touch but distance, he mused, numbs feelings.

Over years, they had come to know each other very well. He had been one of those few people (or perhaps the only one, she added as an afterthought) who had understood her. Her thoughts had an outlet. It was almost like he was a habit. She knew she would eventually land into trouble because of her attachment with him but at the same time could not help it.  Life had continued after college, difficult as it always is. They had been in touch but it had never been the same for her. She got married five years later.

She looked up. The road was endless. She was tired. Yet she knew she could not stop. She had done something that she had been dying to do for years. Every morning she would get up, regretting the face that was sleeping next to her. She despised him. Hated him. Pitied him. But never loved him. He could not give her what she wanted. He had no warmth, no understanding. He was not patient. Every morning she would get up and find a new flaw in him. She longed to escape. She longed to run away. She recalled with betterment the time when she was almost browbeaten into a marriage agreement by her family.

Tonight, she had done it. She had broken free. She could not take it any longer. All she now cared for was going back to him. “Going to him, not back to him”, she corrected herself mentally. “You were never his, never will be. You will regret it all”. “Like everything else. Another regret”. The rain hit on her face. She was cold, lonely, and was beginning to feel scared. She longed for his comforting presence. She had not seen him in the past five years. The last she had seen him was her own marriage. She could not speak to him for more than ten minutes. “Well talking to him was always like this. Even if you talk for years, it seems like ten minutes”. He had come bearing a gift for her. It was a beautiful crystal show piece. Her husband had broken it, as he had stumbled, returning from work one evening. She had cried all night, silently, lest he would hear her.

She felt something pass overhead. She looked up, afraid. For a moment she thought her husband’s eyes were peering down on her, mocking. She shuddered and looked down again. She tried to recall his face, but it seemed distant. She did not even know how he looked now. The only interaction they had had was when he called her up on her anniversary to wish her. They spoke briefly. It was torture. “A sweet one, though”, she added. She lifted her head and looked around. She was very tired now. She must find a place to rest. She looked around but the same bleak landscape stretched on. It was as if she was walking in a circle, as her husband peered at her from somewhere, grinning mockingly. 

Just then there was a hiss and a few snakes crept out of the nearby tree. She didn’t know where to run. She stood frozen, as the snakes circled around her. They hissed and moved in closer to her. They started to twist and twirl around her. She opened her mouth to scream but could not. The snakes started to bite her…

--- * ---

She woke up with a start, her heart beating wildly. She looked around in alarm and saw the silhouette of someone next to her. For a moment she was convinced that she had done it. That she was with him. Then she realized that it was all a dream. She did not have the courage. She could not. She was scared. Just then her husband murmured in his sleep and put his hand around her. She sighed, deeply. If only it had been…if…

- Parekh, Pravesh

February 28, 2013, 05:35 AM