The Last Love Letter

Akash is a single parent now to Sara

'Dad I don't like sandwiches in tiffin every day.' Sara looked up innocently, a drop of milk hanging from her chin and the bowl of Chocos unfinished in front of her. The school bus was expected in ten minutes, and Akash had packed a cheese and tomato sandwich for her school snack.

He looked at her, exasperated. Before speaking, he smiled with as much sincerity as he could muster. 'Beta, every day I make you a different sandwich. Come on now, hurry up. Finish your breakfast or you'll miss the bus.'

Sara made a face and went back to eating. Akash grabbed her shoes and helped her put them on as soon as she had finished. Then he wiped her face, picked up her bag and extended his finger, all in one motion. Sara grabbed the finger, and they left in a hurry.

When Akash got back home from the bus stop, he had just thirty minutes to prepare for work. He moved from one room to the next, realizing the apartment required serious cleaning. He did have a maidservant to clean up, who picked up the keys from the landlord's ground-floor apartment an hour after he left, but she had been away that past month, and Akash hadn't been successful in finding a replacement. Akash did a bit of tidying up and decided to leave the proper cleaning for Sunday.

Everything in the apartment reminded him of Nisha. This was the home she'd come to as a bride five years ago, and they had visited the various markets together to buy crockery and furnishings. Though both knew that it was a temporary arrangement and they would eventually buy their own place when they could afford it, they had spent most of their savings on making the apartment look like the home they had dreamt about when they were dating.

Just one year after their wedding, they had brought their little Sara to this very apartment. It was here that she had learnt to crawl, take her first steps and form her initial words.

Akash shaved quickly, not actively noticing but still aware that ignoring his health and working overtime in office had dulled his personality. The clear black eyes no longer belonged to the person who had been madly in love with his wife. His face was missing the radiance that only happiness could bring. His 5-foot-10-inch frame seemed less commanding due to lack of exercise, and his once-boyish, crew-cut hair was now long and messy.

Akash got under a hot shower, vaguely aware that his distraction would delay him and that he should hurry up and focus on work instead. He stood under the sharp spray with his eyes closed, the hot water falling on his back, his senses adrift and his mind filled with memories of Nisha.

Have you ever noticed that we keep our eyes closed in the shower but always keep them open in the rain?

He was taken back to the time they had got drenched one July evening while shopping at Sarojini Nagar. Nisha had pulled him to the park close by, and they had stood in the rain for a long time, holding hands, not talking, just breathing-peaceful, soaked and with their eyes open-before Nisha had whispered that.

Akash got out of the shower, dressed in a suit and tie, and looked at the clock. Just like every day, there was no time left for breakfast, and he was soon in his car, on his way to the office in Connaught Place on that cold February morning.