‘He’s no more, Akangsha’ – the words echoed in my ears again and again, my head spun; I looked around for a place to sit but my sight started getting blurred. I stretched my hand out and opened my mouth, but I collapsed onto the ground.
‘Are you okay now?’ – the words suddenly hit my ears, my head still felt dizzy. A couple of seconds later, when my vision was clear, I replied, ‘yes’. I looked around.
I was lying on a bench inside a shaded bus stop. I sat up seeing the teeming crowd around; their inquiring eyes were fixed on me.
I gulped down some water, isn’t this the same place where we used to meet every day before marriage, a sudden flood of memory hit me, bringing a lump to my throat.
Rishav is dead, the thought stung my heart. Feelings for him were long gone. But then what was it? What was burning inside me? What was aching so badly? Why was it so unbearable that the tears streaming down my face refused to stop as I walked back home?
Slamming the door behind, I walked over to my cupboard. I’d hidden it away under a pile of clothes – the wedding album. Why had I not thrown it away after our divorce?