Gift of Love

Thunder clapped from the heavens and the clouds opened up into torrents. She swung her handbag carelessly over her shoulder as she walked into the dark night. She carried no umbrella and she was drenched to the skin. There were no lights on the road and she was able to make her way about with the help of the few gate lights on the perched upon the compound walls of the deserted street. Her pace seemed deliberately slow as though she enjoyed every moment of walking in the rain. She finally reached the house. There was no gate light for there was no one inside to switch it on. She went to the main door and stood there for a few seconds. If he had been there, he would have been out on his bike searching for her, she thought wryly. Her glance fell upon the bike - The rusting bike now stood in the garden welcoming the rain. It cast a ghostly shadow as she switched on the small light on the portico and then fished a key out of her handbag. She dreaded opening the door and switching on the lights in the hall everyday, these days. But she did it. She wanted to overcome the feeling that hit her when she saw the empty house. But then it happened everyday stronger and stronger, the emotions hit her, when she entered the house – the same house where once they had lived together – in bliss.

He had been everything to her during their teens. He had proposed marriage as soon as he found a job. She had married him in a simple ceremony surrounded by friends for neither of them had parents. In short, their wedding had not been a fairytale. For a week he was dull and moody. She coaxed him to tell her what was on his mind but he merely grinned. His grin did not calm her enough and she wondered why. She was still worried about his moodiness and she even tried to joke about it. She asked him if perhaps he too had a few days of ‘illness’ every month like her and he chased her around the house for suggesting it. At the end of it they fell into an embrace...that lasted for eternity. She told herself that her life was indeed a fairytale. But that weekend, her fairytale turned into a nightmare as he coughed blood as soon as they were about to dine. He winked at her and told her that his throat might have been infected. She was horrified at the quantity of blood and tears sprang to her eyes. He held her hand reassuringly and gave her his boyish grin and told her that he wanted to make love to her that night again like the nights before.
“Are you crazy?” she asked him and almost dragged him to the hospital. She told herself that it was indeed a throat infection. He was a strong and ‘no bad habits’ man. He could never be seriously ill, she reassured herself. And it never occurred to her that he was already a dying man.

He had known about it only a week before. He had been shaken badly by the diagnosis. He was not afraid of death but of leaving her alone. He kept the news to himself as he thought about her and what he could do for her. He now knew he could no longer keep the truth away from her. And so he went with her to the hospital knowing fully what to expect. She was told that it was a terminal illness at an advanced stage. She did not speak a word to him when they came back in an auto. She was now beginning to understand why he had not taken his bike out to work. Strength had started seeping away from his body...Of why he did not grin at her as often as he used to before – for he had locked a deadly secret within himself. That night they silently held each other. Neither of them wept. The hours passed by and they lived a thousand lives in each others embrace. She would remember that night forever. For there were no more nights like that. He was admitted with high fever the very next day. Within five weeks she saw him moving towards his end. His body shrank into a skeletal mass of empty flesh. But the tears never came. She dutifully did everything for him. Held his hands at nights as he ranted in pain. The last day dawned gloomier than the rest. In one of those rarest and fine moments of life, he actually opened his eyes to see her and smile at her and hold her hands as he slipped in and out of coma. She did not weep as he closed his eyes finally on her...But just before his breath stopped she thought she had heard him murmur “...will never leave you alone”

She became a mechanical spirit surviving the holocaust called life, from that day. Maybe that is why she never carried an umbrella even when it rained. Nothing mattered to her anymore. She merely existed. Perhaps, she thought the rain would wash her away...perhaps she wanted to become ill in a natural way and then die. But nothing ever happened to her. She always seemed to be in the pink of her health...

She had shunned her few relatives and lived alone with his memories. As she went into the spotlessly clean bedroom, she did not switch on the TV. There was no dinner to be cooked for she had finished her meal at her office. She sat fixed opposite their blown up wedding picture. No tears came – just an intense feeling of misery as she looked at the photo. Something that she would never be able to explain to anyone…She was about to slip into an uneasy sleep when she realized that she was still dripping wet. She went into the bathroom and changed. His shaving set was still on the stand. It spoke no words to her and yet she felt his presence after seeing it. She almost smiled and then stole herself out of the bathroom. She switched off the light and the fan. The room was horribly stuffy. But she felt it wasn’t as stuffy as her life and nothing mattered to her anyway. She closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

She saw him smile. She heard his voice. He was telling her about uninteresting things. But she listened. There was nothing else in the world she really cared for than to listen to his boring talk about his job and his passions. She dreamt on and on about him until she woke up with an intense feeling of disappointment and emptiness. She stretched herself in habit and got out of the bed. It was not raining but the sky outside was heavily cast with grey threatening clouds. She decided that she would not go to office but stay at home and with his memories. She felt hungry but somehow it did not bother her. She had no newspapers or magazines to read – for she had stopped all subscriptions. There was no maid to sweep or cook. She did everything at home. It had been ‘their’ home and it was the only place she wanted to keep clean – as if it were her temple. After a few minutes of gazing at the bed she tied her hair and switched on the geyser. She went into the kitchen and then suddenly felt the floor move beneath her feet. She steadied herself and then sat down on the floor. Her heart beat faster and faster.

At that moment she knew. In a flash, her life suddenly was thrown into another dimension. She drowned in shame as she realized that she had not even considered this as a possibility. But of course! She should have known. He had never lied to her. His last words were true...He had known that he was not leaving her alone. She stood up with sudden conviction and peeped into the hall. The emptiness had gone. It was full of life. Atleast she could now see that it might be a hall empty of humans but full of furniture that were waiting to be used again. She felt full. She knew it. She knew it again and again. “...will never leave you alone”

She needed no pregnancy test. The veil of misery lifted and the tears came slowly first and then in torrents. She wept as she gulped down some glucose water and then milk. She wept as she cooked herself a heavy breakfast and then ate it after her bath. An hour later, the tears had subsided and now she smiled. She passed by the mirror and then smiled at the reflection of their wedding photograph on the wall opposite the mirror. She went near the photograph and kissed him. She spoke to him aloud. She told him that she was going to live long and happy for he was coming back to her. She thanked him for the gift he had given her before he had passed away. And she told him everything that she ever needed to tell him. In the end, she picked the photograph off the wall and hung a baby picture instead.

Thunder clapped from the heavens and the clouds opened up into torrents. She swung her handbag carefully over her shoulder. She struggled for a while with the rusted umbrella and finally opened it. She smiled to herself knowingly as she stepped into the broad daylight...