Monday, March 16, 2009

Numb


It rained last night.
Sleep was like an unrelenting child,
Refusing her intensely as she tried to hold it.

She kept staring at the cluster of droplets forming on the windowpane.
Every now and then a drop would make its way from the top
And cut through the constellation of droplets.
Like a shot of breeze blowing through a dense forest.

She took a large sip of cold water
Letting it numb the insides of her mouth,
You’ll lose your teeth this way!
He would have said.
Don’t worry; I have plenty of them.
I won’t lose them so soon.
She had told him once.

The memory hit her like an after taste.
She tucked herself back into the sheets
And hugged him.
His breathing was steady.
As steady as the sound of the rain outside.

Without any warning a tear escaped from the corner of her right eye
And disappeared in the whites of the pillow.
She was startled by this sudden intrusion.
She turned the other side.

She felt a bulk on her chest.
Lying there motionless,
She wondered where would he be now?
Will he too be lying on his bed watching a constellation of droplets forming on the windowpane?