When I entered the living room,
Through the rear door,
She was still alive,
And heard her almost mumble, ‘Kollo…’
Mistaken me for my father, her son.
I slipped in,
Without saying so much as a word,
For I was used,
To taking her grumbles for granted.
Perhaps I was insensitive,
To the plain fact that her voice,
Was more markedly feeble than ever.
When I walked past her bed again,
She lay facing the wall,
Next to the bed,
Her right hand, almost limp,
Stretched outwards to her right,
Rested on the bed.
I convinced myself
She was breathing yet;
It was when Aunt Rani, our benign neighbor,
Pronounced her dead,
That I began to doubt myself.
Perhaps, this was the way to die:
No final words, no last will,
No lachrymose leave-taking;
Now she was alive,
Now dead.
I stood leaning,
Over the tall sloping desk,
Which the newspapers were fixed to,
Flicking leisurely through them,
But rarely stopping to grasp,
Any piece of news or feature,
With the desire to meet her,
Lying uppermost on my mind……
My untamed eyes darted themselves,
Down the narrow road,
To scan the turn,
And see if she was coming up…….
Moment by moment,
As time sprinted,
I waxed more and more impatient,
While my hope for her arrival,
Gradually waned,
‘She’s unlikely to come today!’
I concluded,
After about an hour’s dither,
And my heart felt crushed,
Under the weight of the dead hope,
And live despair…….
I found it difficult,
To bring myself to look at you,
Straight in the face,
And smile warmly at you,
Like I would have done then,
Perhaps because the old disappointment,
Still hung heavy on my heart.
We walked along the familiar road,
And turned into the estate,
Housing the posh new administration complex,
And ambled along the tarmac,
Flanked by the big earthen flower-pots,
Spaced almost with mathematical precision,
Where the palm trees grew.
I found my old hurts green as the grass,
On the lush meadow,
And spoke less and smiled little with you.
Now relieved of your former weight,
That had weighted my heart for days on end,
You ascended the flight of stairs,
With as much light-footed agility as I.
Document having been signed,
Letters handed in,
We walked back to the beginning
Of our walk,
To part.
In the privacy of the taxi,
Cradling on your neighbor`s hands
Was the precious little thing,
That mattered to you next to your own life,
And walled us farther apart.
Our friendship, your betrayal,
Were both things of history now.
To turn back, stare blankly into the vast emptiness
Ahead of me, and sigh,
I knew, was useless,
At that point of no return.
And I moved on.
