There was a fire in my eyes. To give warmth to her cold heart, and to burn the flesh of those who gave her pain.
There was a strength in my hands. To pick her up when the ground called her below, and to throw away the stones that made her stumble.
There was a song in my heart. To keep my heart beating with her every breath, and to deafen those hearts who gave her grief.
There was our love, there were we.
There is her beauty that’s still alive and my love for her that can never die.
My heart witnessed her battle against paralysis for one year.
I saw how can one moment change your life and sentence you to breathe and cry, all at one place. I could see how can you feel deprived of everything, in spite of having everything. I witnessed how can you let the air touch your body, but not let your body touch the air.
I saw her when she used to sneeze and look at me with a hope to wipe away the mucous that often cascaded down till her lips. I remember when the mosquitoes used to dance in her ears and all that she could do was call me, or the nurse, or simply shake her head out of agitation. I frowned when I saw how she used to crave to hold a pen and write, and how she wished she could tie braid of our little daughter and the desire that dwelled in her heart to dance and jump, and walk and slip.
She stopped asking for my love, presence, words, poetry, dramas and all that she loved.
She asked for just one single thing. One medicine, one remedy that could take away all her pain. The remedy, death.
Before the sun could reach to bring for her another bunch of painful miseries, I walked up to her with a bottle of poison in my hand.
She smiled and inside her eyes I saw a new life, that was waiting for few drops of poison, to begin.
Few months later, as I held my daughter and we both gazed at the boundless sky, she pointed towards a star and thought of it to be her mother.
“Daddy! Look, mom. But why isn’t she twinkling?
Is she finding it hard to move her body even in the heaven?”
Having received no answer from me, she began talking to herself.
“But who’ll be taking care of her in heaven if she has left her angels below?”
Just then, the star twinkled.
“Daddy! Look. Mom twinkled.”
“Yes, I saw that. She is infact scolding you for not sleeping on time.”
“Or maybe she’s scolding you for smoking again.”
She then went off to bed, and I threw away the cigarette.
Since then, we visit the terrace everyday and see if she’s twinkling or not. If she doesn’t, we think of the bad things we are doing and quit them. If she does, we pat on each other’s back.
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