The door opened. A creaking sound accompanying it broke the silence. She entered. She closed the door behind her and sat down. It had been a hard day, I observed.
She opened her sandals, massaging her feet as she took them off. She frowned as her hand touched the area near her left toe which was sore. Picking up her sandals, she dropped them near the settee and strode off in the direction of the dining room.
It had been a long hard day again at the office, I observed. Infotronics Corp. did not give its employees even a second to breathe, now that the company was under a severe financial crisis. Work in the Information & Interfacing sector was even tougher, since Infotronics now had to keep up with the competition in the I.T. sector, post the revolutionary law by the American Government allowing all the off-shore companies to market and sell products under their company banner and name. She had put in her 100% in the last few months. The coming months were going to be tough on her, I knew. I got up from the settee, put her shoes in place, crossed the living room and entered the dining room. I had to make sure she was eating right, since I knew she was hungry.
She was sitting on her favourite chair beside the jukebox, listening to her favourite songs. The music filled the room like smokes from an incense stick, somehow spreading a curious ‘fragrance’ in the room. I noticed that she had already taken out from the refrigerator a fresh box of noodles and was now sipping coffee from her coffee mug. She then picked up the box of noodles and started eating. Beside the jukebox, there was a picture of me and her, when we were together. Her eyes wandered, settling on the picture momentarily and then she looked away. I could see the tears. She closed her eyes. She was weeping inside, I knew.
The music could not shroud the chimes of the clock in the main hall as it struck 9. She opened her eyes, red with tears. Getting up from her chair, she ate one final spoon of noodles and then pushed it away inside the refrigerator. Gulping down the coffee, she put it on the jukebox, spilling some of it on the cover of the jukebox. She was tired. With a sigh she looked around. I knew she was feeling cold. She hurried to the window and closed it, shuddering with cold as she did it. She still was not used to
It had been 10 years since I had brought her here. I had been transferred to the North American headquarters of my company. At first she was reluctant to leave
Her mother had come along with us. She said she would be happy if her mother stayed with her. I knew that. And I wanted to see her happy, as happy as she could ever be. I still remember the day I had agreed and she had held me in her arms, smiling. I had loved every moment of it. Things had gone every bit our way as she got a job with Infotronics Corp. and we moved into a beautiful house south of Paulo Alto. She was happy. I was happy, seeing her happy.
She quietly entered the room where her mother was sleeping. She kissed her on the forehead and closed the door behind her. I got up from the chair at the dining table, removed the noodles because I knew it would develop a stale taste by tomorrow and cleaned the jukebox. I quietly washed the coffee mug and put it on the shelf. She would need it to be clean again, I thought.
She was now in the bedroom. She had changed and was now lying on the bed. She was wearing her blue nightgown. She was looking so beautiful. Just like an angel. Her eyes were closed, a bead of tear trickling down each eye, occasionally. She had something in her hand, I could make out. I sat down beside her. It was my photograph. I knew what she was thinking, always knew. She was remembering our college days. How I used to call her everyday, how we used to meet to have coffee or just talk, how we had shared our problems, our joy, our sorrow. The tears said it all. I wanted to talk to her, to tell her I love her and that I am right here. I wanted to take her in my arms, wanted her to cry it out and wanted her to tell me what she was going through. But I could not.
Then it all came flooding back to me. I still remember the day when I was returning from work. The car, the streetlights, the burning truck, the firefighters, the paramedical team which had come for rescue. Everything came back, in one haunting memory. I still remember how I had looked back on my dead body, lying beside the wrecked car. I still remember how I had longed to be with her back home, longed for life, again. But I had promised her that I would never leave her, ever. So I had come back. Back to her. Back to my life. She had always been my life, always.
The jukebox played on; unhindered, soothing as ever, a song which I knew she loved –
Every breath you take,
Every move you make,
Every bond you break,
Every step you take,
I’ll be watching you……..
I slowly switched the lights off and closed the windows, as quietly as possible.
She needed sleep. I lay down close to her and closed my eyes, hoping for a tear to trickle down my dead eyes………….
