Author: Swati Sani

There was nothing to do, so she just sat and observed people and her imagination took off. The freedom she was experiencing to be herself despite being in a place full of people was liberating. There were no restrictions and no compulsions on her here, so her mind started racing.

She started reflecting on her past and remembered it was an evening like this, she was sitting at a small airport and out of the blue he appeared wearing a Red t-shirt and jeans. She gasped, despite the years the resemblance was uncanny. It can’t be him at this nondescript place she  thought to herself and averted her gaze but had to look up when he came close. It was him. They were more than friends long ago but then had drifted apart and though she did think of him occasionally she never thought she’d meet him in this lifetime. She felt a bit awkward as he approached her and made a direct eye contact.

Hey! He said. Long time!
Long time, indeed, she replied. How have you been?
So far so good, but now that i have seen you, seems like i am in for some good time, he quipped jovially.
Taken aback with this unexpected familiarity he spoke with, she could not say anything but realised that it’s time they heal the broken bonds and get past what had been.

Let’s grab a coffee, he said and took her arm. She flung her jacket on her shoulders and responded warmly to his invitation. He was a close friend of many years, after all. She could not be cold towards him for something that they both were equally responsible for.

She soon felt the bitterness of past dissolve like sugar in coffee, and the sweetness of an old comfortable relationship filled her. They talked like they always did, as if all these years of not being in touch were just few moments of being apart from each other. She soon felt the same attraction towards him growing in her and tried curb the feelings. He, realising something amiss asked her and she could not lie.

“I am drawn towards you like a moth to a flame” She said in her usual poetic style.

Don’t bother to stop yourself from what you are feeling, darling. He said. We have come a long way and after all these years, perhaps grown wiser than what we were. So they both let go and talked passionately about things that were left unsaid for the longest time. Both of them felt the warmth engulfing them all over again.  The bond once broken strengthened and they departed for their destinations promising to stay in touch for the rest of their lives.

They kept their promise and met often. Spending nights together, stealing moments out of their busy schedule sometimes in his city, sometime at hers and at times they could even spend their holidays together. Neither spoke of moving in together, but their relationship was special and they cherished and preserved it. Till one such time that he did not turn up at the appointed place a couple of years back. She inquired, and rushed to his bedside.

She went back home after he recovered , and they continued meeting each other through out their lives At least whatever of it had remained.

Today she was leaving for a hospice facility. He had departed a year back.

“It’s my turn now” she thought just as the flight was announced. Someone pushed her wheelchair towards the boarding gate.

Photo by kevin dooley

I am running. I want to go back but I can not. I can not turn back, there is nothing for me there. I feel a surge of fear taking a grip on me as I look at the street which is devoid of people. Not even a soul here. I have no place to go, no body to turn to. Scared I start to run and hit a big boulder on the middle of the road. I take a hit on my head. Its bleeding, blood running down my temples, I lick my lips and find them salty, I try to spit but my mouth is dry. Water. I must have some water. I keep running and looking around. All the doors are closed. The ones that are open have no one inside.

No choice, I say to my self, run or they will get you as they got others. I have lost the cloth piece I used as a shawl to protect myself, I am sweating and yet a shiver runs down my spine.

Finally I dare to look behind and slow down with relief. I think I can rest a while.

Water, I must have some water.  I look around once again and find a dog licking something from a discarded utensil.  It’s a bowl with some liquid. I shoo away the dog and try to lift the bowl.  My hands are shaking, they start to give up. The bowl seems heavy but I lift it nevertheless and gulp down few precious mouthfuls of water that it had. The dog starts to whimper and I run my hand over its head. The dog doesn’t bite me, wags its tail instead.  At least the dog understands what civilized human beings have forgotten.

The events that happen a few hours back run through my mind again… fire, stones, people shouting slogans, slogans against and slogans for something, some sect, some religion.. I don’t understand any of it. Suddenly a stone hits my window and I go hide beneath the desk. There is no one at home. I am all alone, like I always am at this hour in the night. Father has to go and work the night shift to get money for the bread. I have done my share of working during the day. Tired and hungry I am waiting for him. Suddenly a burning cloth hits my home. The thatched roof starts burning, acrid smoke fills my tiny hut and I have no choice but to get out.

As I step out of my home, I hear people shouting, “there, there he is. Kill him like we killed his father” “No, burn him” “He does not belong here” “Hey you, go back to where you come from” someone says. I try to reply “but I live here, I was born in this hut” They don’t listen. My words don’t reach them at all. The crowd is getting bigger, scarier. I see someone. He is my friend’s father. I know him. A hope fills my heart but then I notice that his eyes are red. “Is he drunk?” I wonder.

I consider telling him that I know his son, we play together. But there is no time for that. I see them coming closer with knives and stones. Some have axes in their hands. I sense they really want to kill me so I run. I am tiny and can go beneath the carts and I can run faster than most of them. I run hard and manage to escape.

It’s been twenty days since this happened. I don’t know what happened to my father. I had escaped and managed to get out of the locality where I lived with my father and others in a small cluster of hutments. That night I had taken shelter beneath a tree and had met a boy. His name was Chiru and he was almost my age.

Chiru had taken me in that night. He was scared and lonely too. We went to his hut and he shared half his food with me. I learnt that he lives alone too. His father, was killed a week before I met him when some people from the other locality attacked theirs. I feel  his pain.  The people who attacked Chiru’s father were from my locality and I feel guilty for the crime they committed.Photo by Black Scratchy Lines