Thursday, 30 July 2015

The Love, That Was Always Mine..

We were walking by the society park, when he slowly held my hand in his. I looked at him and smiled. Twenty years of marriage, but we still manage to have our own romantic moments. All our friends, who are either busy with work or fighting with their partners, openly show their jealousy towards us. There are many, who even pity me, but that doesn't weaken me. 
We heard the birds chirping and the children playing in the park. He is fond of such sounds. These sounds makes him feel connected to the world around. He brought me close and stretched his hand on my shoulders. I kept my hand on his back and leaned to the side of his body. We kept walking that way for the next few minutes until my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, it was our daughter Shubhanshi. I gave the phone to him, he smiled at me and received the call. Our daughter is a complete Daddy's girl. Whenever she calls us, all she has to do is, talk to her Dad about her college, studies and friends. I am remembered only when she needs some help in her cooking on the weekends. 
We walked a little and sat on a bench. He was busy talking and laughing but did not leave my hand even once. 
Whenever he talks to Shubhanshi, there is a different kind of shine on his face, that shows his love for her. The relationship of a father with his daughter is so pure and deep, one can never judge who loves the other one more. I too had such bond of love and friendship with my father. I was also a Daddy's girl. I remember how he used to get me my favorite chocolates everyday while returning back from office. I used to hide behind the entrance door at his time of arrival, so I can scare him when he enters inside. And he never hurt me by not reacting to my "boo". He always acted to be hell scared. And I laughed at his reaction. We had our own games and talks. He knew me better than anyone else. He was the only one who supported me when I decided to marry Shubham. He was worried about my future with him, but was also confident that I'll manage everything very well. When my mother said she won't allow me to marry a blind man, he was the one who convinced her and asked her to believe in their daughter. 
All the other family members called him Stupid and questioned his love for me, but he didn't care about anything. He just cared about me and my happiness. 
For him, Shubham was my true mate and Shubham has proved him right. 
He shook me and called my name, I returned back from my memory lane. He asked me what had happened. I just smiled and gave him a peck on his cheek. He smiled back. We stood and walked back to our home, holding hands.

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

The Hidden Love

"Day after the other passed, but he never returned back. He promised me he'll be back within 3 days and take me along with him. Today is the 7th anniversary of that day. Sometimes, I feel good that he didn't return. I've learnt to sleep in the dark and to stay alone without him. I've even started loving the people around me, but not more than how much I loved him. The people here are good or may be they just act good. They call me the Writing Lady. And I just smile when they address me this way. I've got a stack of diaries in my room. They say, I must get them published because they think I write stories in them. But nobody knows that I write my life in them. I write about him in those diaries. I write about the small hope I have of seeing him again, someday. I write about my illness.
Yesterday, my doctor came to check on me and asked me to stay strong. She has been repeating the same sentence everyday for all these years. And I've proved myself on her words. But now, it's the time. Living with Cancer for 7 years was really tough. The Writing Lady writes her final words today. I wish he cares to see me once I die."

I couldn't manage to stop my tears when I read the letter to his grave. He made me promise to not tell his wife where he disappeared. He said she'll not be able to take the shock. She kept thinking he betrayed her but never got to know he died in the accident just after admitting her in the hospital. He wanted her to stay strong and overcome her illness and I kept repeating his words to her. Nobody in the hospital told her about her husband's death, just to save her life. She should have known, he loved her a lot.

Sunday, 26 July 2015


Holding onto the reminiscence of our togetherness, 
I sat on that old bench again. 
The grass wasn't green, the birds weren't singing. 
There was no cold breeze, the bright clouds were not in a mood to provide any relief. 
But there was a serenity of memories all around.
Of the gulmohar tree and the hidden treasure we never found. 
My fingers lingered over the apologies you scribbled every time on arriving late. 
To make me feel, your presence was worth the wait.
Memories they are, memories the will be...