“And the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can’t replace, when you love someone, but it goes to waste, Could it be worse?”-Coldplay, (Fix You)
I like the days I wake up before him. Watching him sleep is the highlight of my day sometimes. He drools a bit. And he talks. He talks in his sleep. His brown wavy hair all over his face, instead of being perfectly styled. He looks so adorable. I, sometimes, wish to pause time, in that moment, forever.
It was one of those days. He was still asleep. Wrapped in white sheets, he looked like heaven, if heaven was to be personified. I lied down with my face next to his, taking in his details. He has long lashes, beautiful long lashes, that flutter every few minutes. A few freckles are sprinkled on his nose and cheeks, barely noticeable. A stray stand of hair fell across his face, almost to his nose. His thin pink lips opened and closed. His chest rising with every breath. I always found the sound of breath comforting. Especially his. I snuggled in close to him. His heart beating is the best sound I have ever heard. It’s like music to my ears. I can listen to it for forever. As I lied with my ear to his chest, My heart and breath synced to his. This was another thing I liked. It made me feel like him and I, we, were the same. 15 minutes later, I reluctantly pulled myself away from him. I had a long day ahead. A lot of meetings. Long hot showers were the secret of my ability to hold on.
When I came out, he wasn’t in bed anymore, but the sweet aroma of coffee and pancakes pulled me into the kitchen, where he was, standing in his boxers, with an apron on. There is something about a man cooking that makes me swoon.
He handed me my coffee and placed two pancakes, loaded with syrup, in front of me. I pecked him on the lips and dived into my food. With the syrup dribbling down my chin, I grinned at him like a kid. I told him that they were delicious. And he laughed saying he guessed that.
It was a happy morning. I never could have guessed that the day would end with one of us gone.
That that was the last day I would ever see him. If I had known that we would never meet again, I would have never left. We could have stayed together in bed, for eternity. But I did leave. I had no reason not to. And a lot of reasons to.
Little did I know that that would be our last day together. Little did I know that when I left, I would never return.
For you see it was 26/11/2008. And my meeting was at Taj Hotel, Mumbai.
I never felt the blast. All I knew was that something had happened and I was bleeding. And then I saw my body lying on the floor. I wasn’t in it anymore. It still horrifies me when I think back to my mangled body.
He was devastated but I couldn’t reach him. I couldn’t tell him that it was alright. I didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t tell him how much I loved him. I couldn’t comfort him. I could never sync my heart to his again, because mine had stopped beating and his was never the same again.
I saw him but I couldn’t touch him. He couldn’t see me. They didn’t show him my body. The only thing they did right.
I still haunt this city. His house and the hotel. Trying to find a reason as to why we were separated so soon.
I had a secret for him that day. Something that would have made him so very happy. But I guess it’s better this way. At least he mourns for one soul now, instead of two.