Every Night

He was more than a thousand miles away, but he still stayed with her. He often said careless words, and sometimes, nothing at all. She still did not love him any less. Sometimes, she thought she could escape him by slipping into a different world, but he stayed with her even when she was asleep; and whenever she felt happy in a dream, she knew it was because the ripples of a forgotten river were laughing in his voice.

Why was it that there was nothing in her that wasn’t his? Why did he possess her to this extent? Of course, she knew the answers, but just knowing did not make the path to acceptance any easier…

She had always been her harshest critic. She was filled with flaws. Yet, he had managed to find some source of awe in her and made her see that she was beautiful. She found herself staring at herself through the small mirror called love each day. And each time, she only saw him there.

She had always prided herself over being practical. Her eyes that had never dared to dream before his arrival, no longer dreamt at all after he left. Her dreamless eyes were still his. 

She knew the vague words that she wrote with her hand were only desperate attempts to reach him somehow. He’d held her hand, and led her into thinking it was forever…

Her feet, when they had walked with him, were often lost. But in her heart, she knew that as long as they were walking together, no matter where they went, it was the right way. She knew that if he called, her feet would run to him even today, despite being weighed down with grief – grief over his inactions that let her leave.

Her lips quivered every time she thought of him. Once upon a time, they used to smile most honestly. The quivering lips were still his.

Claiming her heart should have been the hardest part, but he easily convinced it that he was true. Her heart had never believed in too much too soon, but it had really believed in him. But his determined destruction had been too swift. Now her heart was broken, but every fragment of it was still his. 

Now that he had left, she realized he had more than her heart, her feet, her lips and her eyes – he actually owned her whole. In the depths of her soul, there was now a void. And from somewhere there, even though it ached, she still loved him. He was a little raw piece of her. A piece that had gone missing. 

One day, she hoped she would be able to find her freedom. Somehow, she was convinced that she would be able to have it. It would be in everything; in everything that she wanted to renounce. She wondered what she would do then. She’d find herself in that everything. Then, what would she do with herself everywhere?

As her mind agonized over these aimless rambles, once again, the night called to be awake. It wanted to stay longer with her, within. It was there that she’d meet him. Yet again.  

The Absent Friend

Every morning as I rushed out of the house, I always saw her lying in her self-designated spot with eyes only half-open. She enjoyed a lazy morning and rarely stirred. Initially, as I passed her by, she would look up expectantly, hoping to be patted. On most days, she would face disappointment because I, usually running late to work, could not afford to waste an additional five seconds to pat her and go. On the few days that I did manage to find the time to pet her, she would get a wee bit more demanding and want to be stroked all over. She would then follow me till the end of the gate where she would stare at me with a forlorn gaze as I left her behind and headed towards the station.

She had been living in the compound for many years and had befriended all the small children and the watchmen. Everyone called her 'Bubbly'. Our compound has many dog-lovers and she was always well-fed. Every evening when I returned home, she would again be lying in the compound treating herself to a siesta after eating a heavy, hearty meal.

It was in the night-time that she was quite active. Whenever I returned home late, she would nicely be taking a stroll in the compound. Her presence made me feel safe.

There were occasions when she did venture outside to meet some of her other friends. There was a black and white dog who often visited her, but she was very possessive when it came to the sharing of attention! I remember playing with her black-and-white friend on a couple of occasions but if I dared to first pet her friend rather than her, the jealous dog would snarl, growl and chase her friend away!

Once, the watchmen had adopted a small kitten that had been abandoned by its mother, and they were looking after her. The poor kitten was missing one leg and half a tail. I had always heard that cats and dogs can never be friends but Bubbly, to my surprise, welcomed the little one and had no qualms in sharing her relaxation-spot with her. Of course, the only time she threw tantrums was if I ended up playing with the kitten before greeting her. Oh, how she would sulk!

On some particular nights, Bubbly would allow me to feed her biscuits. Such times were rare as she used to be usually full. But it was funny to see her jumping to eat those biscuits just because she knew that if she refused, I would offer them to the kitten who I had affectionately named Beraal!

Bubbly had been missing for quite some days. There had been episodes in the past where she went into hiding for quite a while and suddenly resurfaced so I did not read much into her disappearance. But, after a while, her absence became more pronounced. It had been more than ten days since I saw Bubbly. Finally, after a conversation with a watchman, I remembered how dogs run away from their homes when they know that their end is near; and I realized, with a lump in my throat, that my Bubbles was no more.

I knew she was quite old, but I wish she had been around longer. Whenever I felt upset, I would just take a walk down my building and play with her. She was intuitive and seemed to know when something was bothering me - on those occasions, she would be more playful than normal; and spending time with her caused my troubles to evaporate for that brief moment. I miss her. I wish I had got a chance to say a proper good-bye. After all, she was the pet I never had. I just hope my memories are enough to keep her alive...

Hanging By A Thread

"If you were watching a movie and found that it was utterly ridiculous, would you judge someone for leaving the theatre in the middle?" she asked.
"Of course not," he replied. "In fact if the movie was really bad, I'd walk out myself and judge those people who remained inside!"
"Then, why do we judge those who choose to commit suicide because they find life unbearable?"

At that time, he had not answered her question. But today, as he stared at the lifeless body in front of him, he thought about all the conversations they had had. And about the ones they hadn't.

Days passed and turned into months. But he was still woken up every night by her dreams. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad, because they hurt all the same. People still asked him about her. Few asked him what it was like without her. He never knew how to respond to those questions. Going through life without her was not something he had wanted to do. He had never wanted to live without her. And without her, he wasn't really living...

She was the person who'd made his life wonderful. The guilt that he had failed to do the same for her plagued him mentally and emotionally. When someone leaves the way she did, everyone wants to point a finger. Everyone wants to know why. And she didn't leave a "why" because she left behind no note. It was in her nature to leave things unsaid.

He often blamed himself for her death. Well-wishers told him that it wasn't his fault but he knew it was. He knew he could have told her to hang in there but he didn't. He wished he could apologize to her - tell her that he was sorry for not being able to help her. Perhaps, that would take the guilt away. But she was not in front of him and he was tired of speaking to her imaginary spirit.

He felt that his life had lost all meaning and purpose. He was doing nothing constructive. Sometimes, while driving his car, he wondered how easy it would be to just lose control. He stared at the sleeping-pills his father took every night and wondered how many it would take. It would be so easy for him to end things the way she had. But then, he wouldn't want to make anyone in the world feel the way he had felt after her untimely death. He realized that he needed to hold on just to make life bearable for himself and for those around him. She was gone and while he would never forget her, he realized he would also have to remember his old self that he had forgotten, somewhere along the way. Even though he felt dead, in actuality, he was not. He would have to move on because life (with or without her) was all about learning, loving and being alive.

Regret

Her head was spinning with endless questions. She wished she could stop the destructive thoughts flooding her head but she wasn't powerful enough. Never in her life had she felt more alone than she did at that particular moment.
She wished she had someone to tell her that they cared. She wanted someone around because she needed a friend; someone who would have the sense to tell her that she was not alone...Someone who would tell her that they knew how it felt to be lonely in a crowd. There was more to life than living, there was beauty and real joy and she wished there were people around to protect her from the hurt that she experienced...
The pain was too much to bear. As she dug the blade of the knife on to her skin, she kept wishing till that very moment when she breathed her last that someone would call her, just say "hello", laugh with her and share those things with her that she had been forced to face alone all this while. She wished she had been brave enough to talk about the way things were - and she ardently wished someone would have told her to take things easy, how close they had come themselves and how lovingly they had been sheltered...
Things could have been alright. But it was too late now. Unable to seek help and unable to endure her suffering, she murdered herself with the hope that it would take her to a better place.

He was home when he received the phone call informing him that she had ended things...The news shocked him beyond belief. She had not left any note - this bit of information did not surprise him. She had a habit of leaving things unsaid. He couldn't really blame her. This was something she had picked up from him - but at that moment, he couldn't help repenting the fact that she was not in front of him for him to say the things he wanted to say to her.
He wished he could have talked to her about the seriousness of her problems. He knew she rarely opened up to people but perhaps if he had persisted, she would have told him what she was going through. He wished she would have let him have a bigger role in the story of her life. He wished he could tell her that he knew what it was like to wake up in the morning and feel that life is completely meaningless. Even if she wasn't in a mood to listen, he wished they could have sat together in silence until that insight dawned on both of them that life wasn't so bad after all...
He wished he could tell her all the things he had kept away from her...She would scold him for keeping secrets but maybe then they could get to talk about things she had kept away from him, like the fact that she was dying on the inside the whole time.
He wished he could tell her all the wonderful things he loved about her. With no care of the world, he loved the way she always spoke her mind and did what she wanted to do. Always caring more about others than herself, he knew she had not shared her problems with anyone because she would not have wanted to burden them with her troubles. Now the only burden people carried was the knowledge that she had suffered so much, until she could take it no more.
He wished he could tell her that he loved her and that he would always love  her. He knew that without her, his life would never be the same. But it was too late now to do anything...All he could do was live with the regret that he could not save her...

Suicide is a dark word. It stole her from him. They could have grown close, helped each other...But just because he did not realize that he could make a difference, he actually didn't.