Heart Clips

◆08:00 pm; Oct 17, 2014◆

-their home-

It wasn't easy for him. Living alone was far too disgusting than he had thought. Just the thought of going back to their home made him to cringe.

Their house smelled worst than a fish market. And the only thing he could do was to make a small space in between of his rubbish garbage, so as to lay there and try to sleep because sleep wasn't readily available to him. The stock rates of 'sleep' was increased to a height that no one would purchase it and gift to him.

While driving from his office to their home or even while getting out of his car and shoving out his shoes, he had not thought that a person whom he missed dearly would be there. Hell to do with his thoughts, he didn't have single right to get her back but she was there.

Akriti was there, as beautiful as always. Even in her simple attire she looked like an apsara sent to him and he, the fool of millennia, always made her angry. She was a very peculiar piece in this world.

People said that it's difficult to understand a woman. Comprehending her was like staring at an artifact of modern art. You try to relish into its content but get it wrong every time, but when you get it right the joy of achievement is immeasurable.

He stood quietly like a lizard sticking near the door and watched her. Sri was there with her, building castles with Lego blocks while she tried to feed delicious food to her. He could smell it, the aroma of fish curry making its way to him. Fish market smelled awful but not fish curry. Ironic!

Again, he was confused with her. She was a certified vegetarian but cooked all Bengali dishes for him, even every non-veg dish. The surprise wasn't for the fish curry, but the effort and sacrifice which she made to cook his favourite cuisines. Why she does it every time, even when she says that she hates it? His lips curled into a knowing smile, a smile which she loved and shook his head.

"Akriti..." he called her.

He saw the way her head jerked up and understood that he had made a mistake by calling her suddenly, "I... am sorry." he whispered.

"Don't make it creepy, Sparsh!" she chided, her voice making him smile wider.

"Baba!" and Sri was too amazed to see her sweet daddy. Why not? Weeks of separation made their child to feel lonely. She jumped from her seat and ran towards him. With open arms, her father welcomed her and caressed her head.

Kneeling down, as if punished for his wrong deed, he pecked her cheeks, "Is my love all right?" and found the sad face of his child breaking him. He hugged her, "Sorry, Sri... Baba is very bad."

She shook her head.

"Baba is good?" he asked, softly touching her hair. She nodded.

Surely, his daughter believed him as a superhero and he couldn't help himself from hugging her more tightly. It was obviously his fault that his little lady suffered a lot, had to be away from her family because her parents fought like immature fools, had to go through mental depression in such a tender age, but still her innocence denied her father to be culprit.

He felt someone's finger touching his cheeks and opened them. Akriti's fingers, the same finger which had written curt remarks in reply to his questions, were consoling his tears. Was it even possible to not know that you were crying? Her fingers were wet; they were not only his tears but the sin which he cursed on himself.

"I am sorry, Akriti." he murmured, one arm holding their child and one arm clutching her waist.

"Stop it." Akriti said as she rested her head over his chest, her palms resting on Sri's back, "I think she is asleep. She was tired, after all."