Two years have passed and still there is no trace of him. Even today I wait for him to return. Living in the outskirts, I hardly have any visitors. I have only one friend with whom I share everything. Sitting on the couch for about, I don’t exactly remember, how many hours, I keep staring at the door. Even the tea in the cup has become cold.
“You still believe he will return?” my friend asked.
“He promised,” I replied instantly.
“The war has ended two years ago,” she added after a long pause.
“But he promised.”
His absence has stolen the colours of my life. Without him around I don’t even feel like changing. Now it seems like I’m wearing this same dress for years. I don’t even feel like loitering anymore. I just wait for him on that old couch with a cup of cold tea.
The silence of our conversation was broken by the sound of the unlocking entrance gate.
“Did you hear that?”
“Maybe it’s him,” I replied. “Who else can it be?”
“I hear a girl’s voice though.”
It was a girl’s voice indeed.
Without answering I waited for the door to open. Not a lash did fall. Finally the door, which was shut for the past two years, opened. A beautiful lady dressed like a bride entered the room. My eyes searched for him.
“Honey, this place is just perfect!” she exclaimed. “Can I check the rooms upstairs?”
“Yes sure,” came a familiar voice from outside.
“It’s him,” I whispered.
As the lady made her way to the room upstairs, a handsome figure entered the room.
“His wife I suppose,” I murmured.
He lifted me up and stared at me the way I stared at the door for the past two years.
“How I wish we could stay together forever,” he sighed.
Leaving me behind, he made his way upstairs and found his lady shocked and terrified with tears. I knew what had happened. I couldn’t wait for him so long. They discovered my body which was still hanging from the ceiling fan.
I have so much to tell him but it is too late by now. After all I’m just a photograph and my friend, a silent frame.
By Payal Dutta
PC: royalty free images from pexels