Prologue

234 14 2
                                    

Prologue

     The wind chime tingled with the slight breeze, and the curtains billowed. A more distinct, more consistent sound filled the room as the chiming faded— a steady beep-beep-beep of the ECG machine. Connected to a number of pipes and the ECG, Ananya Bakshi stared up at the ceiling, counting each breath that came and went through her frail body. She wasn't in pain... not anymore. Not after being in pain for the last six months... no. The pain had faded away, leaving a strange, trance-like peace. She was alone in her room, but in a while, the nurse would return. She'd gone down to refill her jug of water. By her bedside, the photograph of her and Abhay at their wedding day sat facing her, reminding her of older times. Happier times.

      I'm happy now, she thought to herself. There are no regrets... no what ifs. Now I can go without guilt, without unrest.

      Footsteps sounded in the passage outside her door. Ananya turned her head, expecting to see the nurse, but it wasn't the nurse. It was someone else.

      She smiled. The person smiled back.

      "How are you feeling now?"

      "Better," Ananya whispered. "Almost at peace."

       "Abhay is on his way home. I'd better go before he sees me."

      "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

       "No, I'd rather go. Mother doesn't know I'm here and... well, I'm supposed to be an important person now."

     Ananya smiled, a weak smile. But it still contained the same amount of vividness, the same enchantment as it had a few months ago. She might be sick and on her deathbed, but she would always remain untouched by misery. Some people, the person wondered, were meant to defy weakness. Ananya was one of them.

      "Well then," Ananya murmured. "My best regards for your future. And heartfelt gratitude for whatever you did for me. You had no reason to, but you still did."

      "No, you're wrong. I had every reason to. After all, I haven't been very different from you all my life."

       "I know."

      A brief pause ensued. Ananya looked at the beautiful face of the young girl, thinking of someone else that she could see in those feisty eyes. Then she said, "Have you made the arrangements?"

      "Yes. I have."

      "Alright. God knows I'm supposed to do this on my own, but I can't. It's too hard to explain. To meet them... to see them again... it's not something I can do."

      "I understand," she said, placing her hand over Anaya's thin one. The skin had deteriorated into a scaly covering stretching over her arm... Ananya watched their hands, fascinated.

"I'm sure they'll forgive me." Her eyes rose to the girl's. "They will, won't they?"

       "Of course," the girl whispered. "Of course they will."

     Ananya closed her eyes, taking in a deep, trembling breath. For no reason, her heart was pounding. She could feel the change coming over... she could feel the haziness seeping into her mind, could feel the fog in her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, the girl was gone. In her place, the nurse had appeared with a jug of water.

      "Is she... is she gone?" Ananya whispered.

      "Who, ma'am?" the nurse asked, bewildered.

      "Never mind. I'm going to sleep," she slurred.

      For a long, long time, nothing moved her. The nurse kept an eye on her ward, occasionally dozing in her chair. The master should be back anytime now... he'd better hurry. She was losing herself.

      Ananya stirred. Blackness. Voices, assaulting her ears from all sides. Her sleep was punctuated by dreams, numerous dreams from the past, but it wasn't the dreams that woke her up. It was her husband's voice.

     "Ananya!" Abhay's frantic voice broke into her consciousness, and slowly, as her eyes fought against the darkness to see him, he came into view. He looked bereft, terrified. "Ananya, be with me."

      She smiled, even though it hurt, and moved her hand. He was hovering over her, his eyes filled with fear and concern, but most of all pain. She grabbed his fingers, feeling his cold, taut skin, and murmured, "I'm here."

      He didn't relax. He sat there with her, for uncountable minutes, for an eternity. They remained silent, holding hands, sharing the air that surrounded them. When she finally closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was not him, seated by her besides. It was a glimpse... a glimpse from the past, a splinter of her memories. A little smile fought its way to her lips...

      I've made it up to you, Ananya thought to herself. I've made it up to all of you, and now I can go in peace.

Forget-Me-Not: Taste of FreedomWhere stories live. Discover now