Final letter

Its been year since that night. I have delivered several letters since then. Today is my last day at office I am still sitting by the window rain has stopped. Slight fog has turned out on street. Water has logged on ground, frogs are croak, peacocks were singing in distant drop hang on the leaves like timeless crystals waiting to be broken. I am sitting with red envelope in my hand. Which I got last night. In most beautiful hand writing address to Seema.

It says.

Dear Seema

They say summer is always succeeded by rains. Winter by spring. Everything changes with time. What doesn’t change is moment. For me every moment start with you. My love for you never changed. Its been 60 years we are together. Married at age of 15 I still remember that night when I wiped tear of your face because you don’t look good while crying. Those pokoras in rain in which you always forget to add salt. But I never complained and you thought you are world best chef although you are!! Then children born, we got less time together. I didn’t even notice when your hair turn silver. Your face covered by wrinkles. Now its 10 years we are in to different old age home in to different cities. Our children for whom we paused our time. threw us from their house. You used to say they are still children. But seema? Are they still children? My tongue lure for the taste of pakoras. My eyes wipe to see your morning face. Your swell lips in morning. You in that red saree which I gifted you on our 25 anniversary on 29/12. I miss you Seema. Please come back. Can we start our new life.

Your 

Ved 

After roaming from place to place I get to know Seema is in a Teresa old age home. Rain has stopped I am outside on my scooty driving through water sprinkling them away. Singing hindi song “kisi ke muskrahto pe ho nisar, kisi ka dard mil sake to lo udhar, kisi ke ke vaste ho tere dill me pyar, jeena isi ka nam hai. I am standing outside old age home. Guard pointed me towards a women with silver hair drape in red saree orange lipstick. Hairs falling over shoulder and body cover under white bed sheet kept on a stretcher. Birds and people around her are still mourning for the lost of a soul. I have kept the letter by her feet. And turn back. My mind is in silent zone where everything seems quite. I cant hear a sound. I was riding back to home. Phone has vibrated twice. I didn’t pick call. It might be mom’s usual call. Bus came from my left. I didn’t see it. And hit me. I went sliding to the statue. Letter for Aayana from my pocket fell and went with flow of air next to a postbox. I lay still on road with eyes open. Blood all around. People are gathering around me. Everything is black now……..

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