He had ceased to express his fondness for her in words, and recoiled
with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses. Even though they shared the
same bed every night, it did not seem to her that he still belonged to her. She
felt as though he had been stolen from her. Intentionally. And she knew who had
done the cruel deed. It was her country. Their country. Even though the war was
won, she had lost. Lost completely in life. The doctors had told her that there
was no way her husband could be brought back to the present world; but she
thought otherwise. She would bring him back; win the war God had started with
her; anyway…anyhow…she would do it. All she wished was for her John to return.
That wasn’t something too huge to wish for, was it?
Having thoughts about her bad days, she thought of taking out her diary
and going through what had happened in the past that she had gone through and
experienced. The neat handwriting stood out from the yellowed pages of the 15
year old book and she skimmed through the first pages, she was sure she could
narrate what had happened on the first day itself.
I was devastated. Momma wanted to take me shopping and I liked that
idea, but at that moment going out with my friends to the new boutique seemed a
better plan. I dejectedly accepted and thinking that my day was going to be
wasted, got ready to leave. The shopping was boring as expected and it took a
lot of time as well. Dreaming about what fun my friends would be having, I
roamed around haphazardly until I noticed that Momma wasn’t in front of me.
Still quite young at the ripe age of sixteen I looked around, the dread
slipping in through the skin. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked around and at
that moment his eyes met mine.
It was like an electric shock passed through me. The tears in my eyes
dried up as they met his brown eyes, as deep as the ocean and he managed to
speak a lot without uttering a single word. Dressed in worker coveralls which
did nothing to hide his muscular build, he strode towards me, and my heart slowed
down. Time seemed to move at the speed of a sloth, and it seemed to take him an
eternity to reach me.
“Hey, are you lost? I’m here just to help people. That’s my job. What
help do you need? By the way I’m John.”
His voice was something to die for. Sweet, passionate, gruff yet polite
and the deliberate slowness he spoke with, gave his voice a type of drawl which
suited him extremely well. I just stood there, not knowing what to say. My
mouth stood wide-open and that expression seemed to make him laugh. I thought
angrily,” Why do these guys make it so difficult for us girls to live as we
are? Always making us conscious of something or the other.”
“Ma’am will you please say what you need, I have other work to do as
well. And I seriously think that the open-mouthed expression does not suit you.
A smile or a laugh would be better,” he said with a new spark visible in his
eyes. I could still not manage a word. “Sorry John. I’m just lost but I’ll find
my Momma on my own. And I certainly am not a Ma’am, call me Sarah,” I said with
a faint smile and rushed off.
Still smiling at the innocence and the odd circumstances of their first
meeting, Sarah closed the old diary, and turned off the light. John glanced up,
sweat lining his brow even in the cold weather, an expression of extreme pain
and suffering on his face. My smile melted away and she just wanted to go back
in time, to those happy days. Turning of the light, she slipped in next to him.
Silently stroking his forehead she moved in closer as he tried to move away.
He muttered something and then quietly went back to sleep, unaware of
the hand stroking him calmly. Unaware of the awkward silence. Unaware of the
tears on Sarah’s cheeks as she cried herself to sleep, like she had been doing
since he had returned.
very touching post! Karan, you seem to have a good command over expression and it comes off naturally through your style of narration.
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