Relics and Reality- Part 3

You can read the first part here, and the second part here.

The thought of spirits tackled my mind. Spirits which would take me through various layers of pain and torture, in order to make me understand their pain and the feelings which would normally be missed by me. Nodding my head to flush away the witless thought, I summed up my courage, from each cell in my body, each atom to be frank, and I let go. All I felt was a soft smack on my back, which resulted in a miniature spasm; and it was over. I looked up to see the gaping hole, at a mere height of around 12 feet, and I had anticipated it to be more than double of it!

Stifling a laugh, I noticed the package in my hand. Covered with plastic, and displaying a weird design crafted out of different furs and wools was the book, and surprisingly, I could not remembering taking it out of the attic with me; nor could I recollect its companionship in my downfall; it had just come there.

There is still a week till Rahul ji’s Mataji and Pitaji come here. I am going to relish this week alone with him, completely. Ohh, the moments we have had. Those kisses and the caresses and the naughty fights, and then the lovely moments of loving apologies. Rahul ji is so romantic, he does not let me be without his company for even 5 minutes. Sheesh, now I am blushing like an idiot. It’s 2 days since I managed to write to you baby, and it’s going to take me much more time to be back. Got to rush, I can hear Rahul ji opening the door of the bathroom.

I was stunned at the love, and the passion for the husband being portrayed by the sweet wife. I could imagine the place at the time-

Vases with vivid flowers,

Chocolates in heaps, tiny little towers;

Bed sheets completely ruffled,

Silence punctuated by screams and sighs, not at all muffled.

“Just keep hoping for such a life Karan. You are never gonna get someone like that in your life at this age, not now. You already got what you deserved some months ago, and that’s the reason you had to come to this haggard mansion. Rather keep working, than dreaming about a young, loving and caring wife. Damn, life is tough!”

The coffee steamed down my throat and brought out a sigh of relief. Breathing in the aroma of the Brazilian blend, I relished the hot touch on my fingers and then the cup burst- pouring on me hot drops of coffee, scalding and burning.

Excerpt #3 from Diary

Meri aankhon mein tha dard,

Par nahi tha koi rahem bhitar uss mard,

Kartoot the uske bure,

Jiske karan the mujhe jhakam, bhare dard.