Dear Husband, yours only [on hold]

✥ 14 | Heartache

Life as a human is strange. One can never fathom it's meaning. One can never predict it. One must live it as it comes.

Then there are choices. Some choices are chosen by us and some choices choose us. And yet there's no way to tell which one is true in which scenario.

Sidharth had always taken life as it came. Not thinking much about it. He was a happy-go-lucky guy living life in the best way he could. He had always been a practical headed person. Until the chaotic feelings overpowered him. 

Loss, betrayal, guilt, regret, fear and love. Emotions always made a person weak. He never thought he would be one to succumb to them. He was miserable, really.

His hands held her soft cold ones. They were much colder than they had been an hour back. He refused to believe that she was gone,  this time forever. Only last night they were talking about the little things in life that bought joy, about stars and speculating about life on other planets. 

Just last night he had held her hand that was warm and slept beside her. Perhaps he was scared of what the morning would bring. His fears materialized when she never woke up. Last night before drifting off to sleep she had mumbled a soft "I love you" and then flashed him that soul touching smile. She was beautiful, had always been. 

Maybe that 'I love you' was her final goodbye. She had never been the one to say the word 'goodbye' after all. 

Tears glistened in his eyes as he saw her lifeless body. It hurt so much to lose somebody who was an essential part of your life, who made your life beautiful. 

* * *

"Mom, what color is octopus? Can I color it pink?" Raunak asked his mother.

"Yes, you can color it pink, Ron but please finish your milk first." His mother called out from the far end of the room where she was dusting the sofas.

"Bahu," Raunak's grandmother called from the kitchen as soon as a ringtone went off from some place in the living hall. "Please pick the call and see who it is. It may be the tailor. He said he will call when the blouse is ready."

Raunak watched on with a curious gaze as his mother struggled to find the phone.

"Ron, where did you hide Daadi's phone?" She asked turning to him.

Raunak wore a wide grin. It always surprised him how his mother always knew he was up to mischief.

"Ron," the voice was stern this time and Raunak knew there was no point pretending to not know. His mother would see through his drama.

"Inside the vase," he pointed at the clay vase colored with shades of red and brown that was home to the bunch of fake flowers.  The same flowers that Raunak would occasionally pick up to give to his mother when she was upset.

"Not done, Ron. You must not touch anybody's phone like that. And definitely not hide it." She reprimanded retrieving the phone. Her gaze remained fixed on the screen.

"Pick it up before the call ends." Raunak's grandmother shouted from the kitchen again. "That tailor doesn't pick up calls otherwise."

"It's Nirali aunty," His mother said hurriedly walking away into the kitchen.

Mrs. Mehra looked at her daughter-in-law with a solemn expression as she took the phone from her hand. She picked up the call and placed the phone against her ear, watching as her daughter-in-law walked out to give her privacy.

"Hello, Nirali Ji,"

She froze as she heard the news from the other side. "Oh my God! How?" She exclaimed in shock. She raised her gaze as she saw her daughter-in-law walk in again, probably having heard her cry of shock.