There she was…engulfed in the loneliness that surrounded her; sitting with her legs crouched, hands enveloping her bare legs, chin on her knees. It was dark. Sana liked darkness. Light, she knew, had little weight. Effervescent. It was the darkness that was substantial, had mass that stayed with you. Sana had long come to enjoy darkness. But today, no matter how much the darkness weighed, she was looking for a ray of light. Even a small one today would eradicate all the darkness in the room, only if. She had been waiting for the break of dawn for long now. Her knees were paining. She straightened her legs, stretched the toes to align them with her legs. She got up from bed, switched on the light, got hold of an album placed on the table and sat carelessly back on the bed.
She flipped open the album that was a case to so many memories. Running her fingers on the first picture…she saw herself. Six days old little Sana lying on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the camera with small minuscule eyes. There also was a picture when she was five-month-old, lying on the floor and beaming all over, her right toe wrapped around her right hand fingers. Next was of her on her father’s shoulder. Wearing a feather cap, she looked adorable. Then there were some other beautiful memories.
She was going through the album little knowing that these captured frames were holding her captive of moments that have passed, times that she has already lived. She turned the page. The pictures were her mother’s. She stared. Mothers do not need a description. They, all over the world, are the same. She continued to stare at her poise demeanour as if trying to derive strength from the way her mother stared back.
With uncertain hands, she flipped the page again for the next picture, ‘his’ picture from last year when they visited China. He was leaning against the wall, carefully enough to not ruin the blazer, hands folded against his chest. He gave a brief smile, just a small one. Looking at the picture, suddenly Sana put her gaze away in an attempt to not meet his eyes, staring into the wall of her room again. The memory of that day flashed across her eyes as if it was just yesterday.
“Sana okay. Just because you insist. Take your damn picture and make it quick! We don’t want to miss the train!” Saad had said. He was not very comfortable with the camera.
“Not here Saad! Lets go to that wall! Please, please please!” Sana had pleaded like a baby.
“You win Sana, anyday! Love you so much!” He had held her in his arms and had kissed her cheeks softly. They had then run towards the wall where Sana had clicked him. And he had taken Sana’s picture which did not come out very well.
“Saad you know, you’re a horrible photographer!”
“Sana you know, I know that.” And they had laughed together.
The sound of the laughs in her mind brought her back to reality. She yearningly looked at him again, picked up the album, held it close to her bosom and cried. She switched off the light of her room and cried her heart out. For long she didn’t notice the light in the room.. the little golden rays finding its way through the small opening of the window. Was it him? Had he come to comfort her? No. It was just the light. The wait for the morning was over.
It is going to be a long day for Sana today. Today, she will sit numb, surrounded by unwanted people. Yet again today people will hug her and she will cry for the one who said he’ll never make her cry. Today, exactly one year ago, she had lost her Saad. Today is going to be hard for Mrs Sana Saad.
No comments:
Post a Comment