‘Prithvi Miyan.’ Qayoom bhai jolted me from the deep sleep I was in. It was later part of the morning till now. But the anxious look on the face of Qayoom bhai was not boding well for my future. ‘Agatha’, Qayoom bhai said with a sullen look; one that conveyed two things to me. One, that he was not sleeping last night, and second, that the morning was not as bright as I thought it would be, something was gravely wrong with Agatha.
‘What happened
to her?’ I jumped off my bed immediately, running towards the bed of Agatha,
looking all over the ward like a lunatic. She was not there in her bed. ‘Where
the hell is she?’ A million swords of pain pierced through my heart as I jolted
Qayoom bhai. My mind was sinking painfully down the darkest tunnel of
everlasting misery as hundreds of ominous thoughts clouded my existence,
threatening to tear it ruthlessly into the anarchy of hell. It appeared as the
darkest horrors of time had braced themselves to unleash their ugliest face of
vengeance upon me.
‘She had sudden
violent attack of seizures this morning leading to unconsciousness’, Qayoom
bhai explained, holding me by the shoulders. ‘She is currently in the ICU.
Doctors say that she has gone into coma.’
‘Will she come
back to consciousness?’ I asked him in despair.
‘Doctors aren’t very
sure about that’, Qayoom bhai dropped his head as he said that, suggesting that
opinion of doctors was far worse than he spoke.
I took off on my
feet immediately, running towards the ICU as I hurled outside the ward, through
the corridor as my heart threatened to burst out of my chest, tears rolled down
my cheeks as my soul cried for justice.
I peered
hurriedly through the glass pane as I reached outside the ICU. There she was,
as calm as ever, sleeping in the lap of uncertainty without a tinge of worry on
her face. Somehow, just seeing her through the window eased my pain drastically.
The ever curious countenance that she possessed ensured me that wherever she was,
she was alright.
Qayoom bhai came
close to me as he placed his hand on my shoulders like an elder brother.
‘Do you think
she loved me Qayoom bhai?’ I asked him as I peered at her beautiful face
through the window.
‘From what I
saw, it was nothing less than the hand of Allah himself. It couldn’t be
anything other than love’ he said with a certainty that was missing from our
lives for quite some time.
I hugged Qayoom
bhai as tears kept on streaming. It wasn’t due to the pain only that the tears
were rolling. It was something else that I couldn’t understand completely.
Perhaps, it needed the perfect balance of one and a half expressions that Agatha
had mastered to express what I was going through. And I was left handicapped
without her.
*
* *
I am
Prithvi, and here I am, waiting for Agatha to come back to my life as I
continue to love her in every moment that passes by. And giving me company as I
sit beside her, are the three pearls that bejeweled the three hours of our
togetherness. Therefore I have with me as I wait for her, a lifetime of love to
give, the passion of hope to wait, and a promise that I never made!
* A story by Deepak Kripal *
Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star. - E.E. Cummings
Categories:
Romantic,
Short Story
Thank you for reading the story. Here is me hoping you enjoyed :)