She Wanted To Kill Herself; And So Did He. But Life Had Another Plan…

The things that love makes you do. Oh my, the poor one, she did them all, every single one of them.

From breaking up with her old friends to never ever making new ones. From never meeting eyes with any other men, let alone talk to them to getting herself inked despite knowing she would regret it every single day of her life. She did it all and more. And what did she get in return?

One day, she was walking her way to home, holding bags of vegetables. She had been ordered to make palak paneer that night. Little did she know that her every step to home was inching her closer to her very end. And just as she took the last lane to her house, two muscular men rode past her in the bike. She was taken aback by the unpleasant force that came her way suddenly out of nowhere and got her heart pumping like crazy. But having been accustomed to such racy heart kind of feeling born out of severe anxiety, she calmed herself down right away and got walking again.

They rode towards her again – how Schumacher would if he wanted to be a hit-and-run expert – she laid flat on the road – spinach leaves now soaked in blood – he put the knife back in his pocket – the other one gave him the glass bottle- it was emptied on her face – she twitched – she screamed – they rode away – then came the others – apparently the good ones.

She survived. But only that. She started breathing again. But only that. She existed. But only that.

It had been seven years since the incident, and her face still bore the scars, the scars that would never let her forget the man who carved them. But the good thing was that the forced tattoo at the back side of her right ear had also been burned to nothing. Another good thing, and definitely more important one was the fact that she had gone far away from that monster of a man. And that’s it. So far that she was not even in India anymore! She lived in Nepal, did odd jobs, tried to feed her stomach. This was what her life had become, and what had stayed on was lonesomeness and, of course, the scars of the past.

One day, after bearing punishments for no apparent reasons for almost over a decade, she decided to walk away. She walked and climbed, and reached the summit of Bhimsen tower.

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The things that love makes you do. Oh my, the poor one, he did them all, every single one of them.

Became friendless, took the blame games and got dictated way too much, suffered burns of hot hair tongs every time he got the spices wrong, got blackmailed into bed every and anytime she wanted to visit the point of no return. He did it all and more. And what did he get in return?

One day, when he was trying to wrap up his work, she called. She wanted some scented candles, dark-chocolate cake, and vanilla wine. It was weird for him because they never really shared romance anymore. She was taking him for a ride and he was being used. Why you wonder? Because of obligations we all think are more important than our own lives. A poor one, indeed. All of us! Anyway, wondering what kind of new shock awaited him that night, he picked up the stuff asked for and rode on his bicycle to his flat (his flat but only on papers). The moon wore a mischievous grin that evening.

He entered – wearing a slutty dress she flung the door open – snatched the wine and everything else from him – spat the cork on his face- turned around to her room – a half-naked man stood at the door grinning – she went ahead and kissed him wickedly – shut the door on the poor one’s face- sex noises followed.

He went to the bar, drank almost to his death, and reached a hospital. After his detoxification went successful, he exhausted all of what was left in his bank in transporting himself to Nepal.

He became a local school teacher, the one who could never raise his voice even when the entire class clutter gave him a blinding migraine. Moreover, he was always picked upon by his own colleagues. He lived the life of a mute, the mute who had the ability to speak, but could not. He just could not.

So one day, he decided to kill the ghosts of past messing up his present. He did not know how he was going to go about it, so he walked. And climbed. He could spot a lady in pink climbing ahead of her, and he just followed her. As if she were his guiding light to the summit, the summit of Bhimsen tower.

They both reached there and stood in silence. He asked her if a countdown was preferable. She said, “I want to do it in peace and not with the devilish Math spoiling it for me in the last minute.” He broke into a smile and fell in love with her innocence right there, right then. And she? After years of experiencing nothing but sheer misery, she could spot some genuine warmth for her in someone else’s expressions.

First time after having lived for years as a bonded lover and labour, they felt alive today. There was something magical in the air on the summit of Bhimsen tower that evening. Things just kept rolling for them, one after the another. There was some healthy pinkness on their cheeks, their scars looked beautiful, there were smiles and giggles, and that amazing feeling of finally having won at life games. So much it took for them to reach this state of utter bliss. So much to feel alive at the moment.

And then?

That evening they walked down the Bhimsen tower together, hand in hand.

And then?

The tower, that acted as the stage where two lives were saved, crumbled down the very next day. Everything fell apart, their tiny rooms were gulped in by the Earth.

And they?

They lived on. They ‘lived’ on…

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