LOVE. No other name.

COLORED 3

                I visualized a family portrait. A loving wife. Adorable little kids. Their hardworking father. And then the picture fell into a billion pieces.

                My imagination was so vivid, that I felt pain all over my body, as if pierced by the fragments of glass from the broken picture frame.

                For the first time, I hated the feeling of secrecy that enveloped this certain portion of the park. I hated it as much as I hated the man on the bench.

                He looked like he was in his early thirties, holding a mobile phone close to his ear, talking casually to a woman on the other line.

                “You want an explanation?” his voice was gloomy. “Okay, I’ll, I’ll sing you a song then. Listen, Sharico.”

                He sang in the kind of voice that could mend broken hearts, but the words he sang were bound to pulverize the heart of any woman, except the one he was talking to, “How can I tell her I don’t miss her, whenever I’m away? How can I tell her it’s you I think of, every single night and day?”

                As soon as he paused, a woman in a conservative dress, looking the same age as he was, who was clutching an elegant-looking, business-type folder, entered the scene. She walked slowly, noiselessly towards the man who had his back turned to her. She stood a few feet away from him and listened.

                “Please don’t get me wrong. I loved her, but I love you now. It just feels so unfair. She’s been so good to me. She doesn’t deserve this. How can I tell her about you?”

                I swore I heard her heart break. Or was it mine? She then rested her hand on his shoulder, making him jerk and immediately move away from her, almost dropping his mobile phone, as if she was walking, living fire, and it would kill him to be near her. The woman spoke, almost whispering, “Tell me. Who is she?”

                Before he could pronounce a word, another woman with thick red lipstick, who was younger-looking and sexily-dressed, walked—or rather danced—her way in, coming from where the 1st woman entered. Lady Number 2 was completely oblivious of the presence of Lady Number 1, and she greeted him, “HEY, SWEETHEART! Why’d you hang up?”

                The man looked like he was having a massive heart attack when he saw Lady 1 face Lady 2 and exclaim, “YOU?!”

                There was too much distress, I wanted to do something. I wanted to make the situation a bit more bearable, but I could do nothing. Have I always been this helpless? I once vowed to never let this kind of torment be felt by anyone again. Broken vow.

--NOTE (Fun facts):

The song that the man on the bench sang to Sharico was "How can I tell her" by Lobo.

Lady 1 sang the 1st verse of "Broken Vow" by Lara  Fabian (in our play).