Good bye..

She stood there, by the window.. looking at the city, as she did when she was upset.. “It makes me feel better when I see that there are a million people around, with bigger problems, with bigger battles for their lives.. It makes me feel I can fight..”, she used to say.. Oh, she brings back so many memories...

"Alright.. I ... I better get going.. ", she got up. "... Good bye..", her voice quivered.
I dint look into her eyes and I dint take her outstretched hand.
"Okay.. Don't forget, forget me. "

I dint answer. I dint move. She stood there, in my room, in silence. A drop of tear from her eyes fell on my arm. She touched my shoulder, bent down .. but unlike her usual way, she dint kiss. She whispered, “Take care of yourself..” and picked up her bag and left. As she opened the door, I almost said “I love you too...” .

My heart felt a stab. The lump in my throat had been growing and I finally gave in. I cried.

After four years of love, relationship and everything, she had decided to move on.
Not her fault, I guess. She was independent, confident, practical, lovely and adored by everyone she met Unlike me – struggling for living, reserved, messy, emotional. She had tried her best. Four years of fighting for me, with me, care, concern, forgiving, wait... she'd given up, at the end. We had fallen apart. It's my fault. I never tried enough.

She came that day. “One last time, I wanted to be with you.. May I?” , she said when I'd opened the door. I hadn't spoken a word for all the time she was here. One hour. Not unusual for me. She hadn't spoken a word either – very unusual for her. She had just been standing by the window and I, sitting on my bed, looking at her... wondering what it would be like if I were the one getting married to her, the next day.

Everything in my house told our story. Door mat to cooking pan ; curtains to bed- she had hand picked for our future home; my clothes had the aroma of her perfume in them; the earring on my table, that had fallen when she was here last time; a hundred colours of bindis on the mirror in my bathroom stood as a proof for the time we stayed together; my set of clothes which were never mine for she was the one who always wore them; her hair-clip that I found under the cot while I was sweeping; the several bottles of vodka we had emptied, that lie stacked the corner; the thousand stick notes all over the wall, left by her, half of which say “ i love you”; the hundred odd movie DVD's we watched together....
I missed her breath on my chest when I sleep; I missed her morning kiss when I got up; her comments on my photography, her insight into her field – computer science, her strong coffee, the air of love when she was around, the happiness she imparted, the strength she gave, the little smiles she brought... I missed her..


Now, after 5 years, as she stands there, near the window, she still feels the same.. but things have changed. There were no bindis, no bottles, no movies, no more hairclips and no stick notes.

“ I am sorry, I know, I shouldn't have come.... I.. was ...” , this was what she said when I opened the door.. The eyes that shone even in dark were not there any more. There was a mask there. She had put on since I had seen her but..

She broke the silence.
“So, how are you doing?” she smiled.. oh, the beauty was still there, but just that her eyes dint smile.
“ Not bad. Doing okay. Now I freelance for a newspaper and a magazine.. Pay is good. And my work keeps me happy..”
“You found somebody for yourself?”
“I had. She married somebody else 5 years ago,” I wanted to say.. “She's out with my son for a mini shopping”, If nothing else, life had taught me to lie well. “How have you been? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, my husband had some business here. So, in town. Just wondered if you were around.. I hope you don't mind..”
“ What are you talking! Of course not!.. I.”
“I have a kid too... My little gal.. Meet her sometime. She's with my parents for next few days.”
“Sure... Alright, What will you have?” She dint answer, but I knew. Five minutes later, we resumed the talk with a double strong coffee and we spoke About her parents, kid, husband, her career, cities,politics, my family.. And she sounded happy. There was curiosity and maturity and a motherhood in her now and i could feel the difference. I was happy for her happiness..
Half an hour later, she stood up, “ I better get going...”
“Wait for some more time, you can meet my family.. stay for lunch.”, I was so sure she would leave.
“Ah, its alright.. some other time. I'll come before I leave with my kid sometime to meet your family..”
“Okay then.. visit me again, sometime” I saw her to the door.
“Me too..” She smiled.
“Good bye” I said, as she walked away. I just felt light to have met her, to have known she;s really moved on. It felt good to feel that things were fine with her... And relieved to realise that I was moving on too. I smiled at life..


And as I stood there, I dint know life had plans for me; I still dint know that it was going take me a long time to discover that she had died in few weeks after she met me; to know she died of cancer and she knew it; to find out that I was the only one she had met in her last days; to figure out her husband had divorced her only two years after marriage ; to know that just like she was, she fought and battled every pain... and it was utter pain to hear that my name was her last word... And I still dint know that I was going to repent for lifetime for a lie..