Loss
“Hello, is Prashant there?”. The door was open and I looked inside, hesitant to step in. She peered out from behind a wall and smiled. “Yes, he is. And you are?”. “Oh, I am his friend, Bharath”. “Please come in, come in. He’ll be out in a second”. She extended her hand for a shake. Delicate, slender fingers. Her eyes, green and almond shaped.
That was the first time I saw her.
She lay in a corner of the room. Damaged beyond repair. Broken bones, broken spirit. I sat beside her watching those eyes flicker to life now and then. The green almonds now grotesque, marked with red soaked bandage. I held her hand. She held on. The dance continued for two hours. Then it ended. Fingers losing their warmth, lips losing their blood.
That was the last time I saw her.
In between, we’d gotten so fond of each other that I’d asked her to marry me. And she’d said yes.
*******
Loss is a peculiar thing to deal with. Some loses are easily dealt with, all that is required is a replacement that is as close to the template that was made the first time around. Template. When my grandfather passed away, I turned to my grandmother and found she was an even more remarkable person than her husband. She and I shared many things that were common between grandfather and I. It was an easy transition. When Scrooge the mutt died, it was quickly replaced by Donald the pup. Full of life like only a young animal can posses, the hyperactive rascal quickly found his way into the family’s heart.
It’s been 6 years to the day since she passed on. The template that she and I created refuses to die.
