Maybe One day


After working 12 hrs long shifts, she comes to the hotel room. The owner of the hotel is Indian from Gujrat. Both husband and wife want to talk about the coronavirus; however, she just wants to sleep.  The couple looks at her and asks, “Are you from south India.” She smiles and tells the couple, ” well, my look won’t give you a specific location, and my ID won’t give you my proper identification.” She has handed her company credit card to pay.

The young couple shows great respect for her. They ask typical questions that each Indian thinks is their birthright to ask personal questions, or they are just nosey.

The man asks her,” what brought you to this side of the world. What do you do for a living.”

she smiles and tells the couple, “I work for an insurance company which I have lied to them. ”

She came into her room and start to sip on the coffee. She looks around the hotel room and but her gaze stops at the lamp. She feels his presence. She tells him slowly, “I can feel you. I can see you. Come over here. You don’t have to run away from me. I am the same woman whom you had loved two hrs before suddenly blocked me, my paths, and my life”.

She continues to think, “for me, you are the same. I can still feel those feelings. I often get angry and denial; thus, I refuse to accept reality. I am here today because you have brought me here. Once you told me that I will die without you. No, I have not died. I am breathing. I am not paranoid, either because I know the truth. I just refuse to accept reality.

The reality can be accepted, but it is had time to digest when one woman is worried about losing the govt benefit if her husband dies. Another woman is busy trying to change the direction of certain things that could harm her husband. She always stops thinking furthermore.

She often thinks of running away, but she always comes back to the blog. This is the only place left in her life where she can talk to him. She tries her best all day long, keeping her mind busy, but at the end of the day, she comes back to him.

She tells him, “I don’t know if you read it or not, but my mind says something. I remember begging to communicate with you thru email only. I asked that I would never come back if I were allowed to talk with you via email. Nobody recognized me, so now you know why I am here. Do you think I could be writing on the blog if I were allowed to communicate with the man whom I love or once who loved me?

Well, the time has gone. My life is also passing, which doesn’t matter how. Once he has told her, “what would happen to you if I am gone forever. How will you live without me”. The woman tells him, “now, you can see how I live without you. Now you know what happened to me. However, you cannot see and feel it anymore. Do you think it makes so happy to write my personal feeling on the blog? Do you think that I don’t feel how you will be feeling bad when the people know how a brave man and strict administrator has shattered someone’s life. Yes, I do feel about you, but I have run out of the options. So, dear bubby, please forgive me for this. Someone else started, but I just continue doing it. I don’t leave anybody whom I can share my feelings”.

She has shared her feeling with one man only whom she loves more than almighty.

The tears have started to well into her eyes when she tries to tell him, “I am alone bubby. Nobody talks to me. Everyone has their own agenda which I refuse to part of it. Almighty has sent you in my life. We often asked each other why we met. The desire of God has brought us together. The almighty wants to fill the empty frame with your picture. It was his decision to carry your name to my grave”.

She further writes, “This is my life without you. I am lost in the world. I walk in a circle that doesn’t show me an exit point. I encircle only two-phase of grieve: Denial and Anger

She tells him, “I have learned how to hide my tears from the stranger. I laugh and smile. My tears are mine now. Often, I wonder what to do now. I look around for you. I work in a new place where nobody knows you. So, I don’t end up fighting with anybody. I keep myself busy. Suddenly, you come into my brain. My heart gets choke with my own tears. I always tell my tears, “don’t come out.”

She tells him, “you were in my dream again. I saw you many times, crossing my path. Both of us looked at each other but not shared a single word. There is a reason why we did not share any word with each other. I refuse to talk with you. I have made my mind that I would never talk with you in my life. Of course, I love you a lot. As you know, I love you more than Almighty”.

Life never stops at any point. It continues to walk on its own pace. It is hard to digest reality. She asks him, “Does my brave hero has lost the battle too? No, I have not lost the battle. I will not stop fighting for my love until my last breath. I don’t care what people say about me. Can you believe that I don’t care what you think about me anymore? God does whatever he wants. Right now, I feel there are no men left in the valley.”

The sins have won the race, and love has lost the battle. The woman asks him, “You have done many prayers for me. Can you do one another for me? Can you go one more time to the Sikh temple and ask my Babaji, “Take your little brat kid away from me. Take her away from this planet. Or you go to a shrine of Muslim peer where I was reborn. Every Thursday, the local Sikhs and Hindu go to the church to pay tribute to the peer and also ask for wellness. My Abu died a few miles away from this place where I was reborn. Can you be kind enough going to the shrine and asks Peer Sahib to pray almighty taking the little girl away from this planet permanently?



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