The written note

 

                            

                               The written note

                                                                                                   

She draws the curtain away, the sun feeds the room with its warmth. He lays undisturbed in his bed, still dreaming of heaven. She approaches the newspaper, walking through the breadth of the room. She finds a written note by the side of the ash-tray; unable to hide the tears in her eyes, she swiftly turns towards the kitchen...the toast had been burnt, the tea over-brimmed the utensil. She pulls up the corner of her beige color dupatta, to clear away the inescapable saline droplets. She decides to calm down and leave for work to think about it once back in evening. The noise of the door when shut, made to a squeaky crash, audible to next two houses in their neighborhood, yet he stays asleep, dreaming ceaselessly.

The clock struck 5:00pm, he is out of the sheets. He puts the music on and surrenders himself to the armchair put next to his bed which he didn't wish to leave; ever. Sipping down his coffee, watching a beautiful 6 inches wide silver bordered photo-frame, perhaps he is reminded of the historical date of 5th December 1998, the fateful night that eventually had gifted him this photograph, where he stood happily close to Shree. His heart is filled with the feelings undefined, he dials the ten digits that made him reach her at the earliest, in a crackling voice, he manages to say, “I love you Shree”. Its 6:30 pm, as usual she is back home, without catching his eye, she moves towards the stained kitchen- slab, which she couldn't clean up in the morning. She makes two cups of tea, and is off to the now cold bedroom, that has the curtains placed, where they should be. He sits in front of her, utter silence fills the room. She gets up, her bangles making noise to break this stifling stillness, walking towards the dressing board, she finds a written note by the side of the ash-tray..she smiles to face him; and his eyes are glowing wet.

Five years have been spent without him, Shree lives alone in the house, she wakes up every morning and moves the curtain away, where the sun now brings the light only, she makes her breakfast without staining the kitchen. The door crashes no more. She sits in the armchair every evening, with the music turned on and wishes that the first written note shouldn't have said "Start living for yourself, I may leave you forever; very soon, promise to keep smiling always"