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Autumn wind, fallen leaves and wind chime...
Autumn breeze and the wind chime
The autumn breezes made the wind chime sing a pleasant melody; a tune of their own design perhaps. A tune that doesn’t bring back any memories and only the somber tune hang oddly like a pregnant pause. To be honest, it had been like that for so long that she doesn’t really know when she actually noticed it.
The entire world has become so silent. So eerie. It’s so silent that she can imagine that perhaps she can hear the wind blowing the chimes of the houses nearer to him. She can almost smell the foreign place where the world is cold and dry, where the rich red ruddy fallen leaves from the maple tree announces the footsteps of fall. She can almost see the distant world where the wind doesn’t blow the dusty siroccos! He is away from her and it feels even further. Here in the City of Joy where the life can be felt on the pulses, she finds it easier to live at a slower pace. Her pace has become so slow that people have started to believe that she has perhaps fallen off of the planet's face.
Today is yet another similar morning. She woke like every other morning and started going through the steps of life. It is perhaps a routine which she has designed for her to befool the mass into believing that she is still alive! Her first breath comes at the same time. In the same way she greets the day. The same way she opens the window to let he warm sun in. In the same way she mutters the phrase – I still miss you – it’s a prayer perhaps. An insignificant but priceless requiem to whoever is listening. Merely existing like a shell of a person it doesn’t matter much what happens when she dies. What matters now is how long she has to suffer before the end arrives. The end of the loneliness. The end of this madness. Perhaps she believes that the end of the craving can either come in two ways – by waiting and waiting for the days or through her own hands.
It’s almost nine in the morning. She has been awake since the dawn broke slowly. So it feels much later. The day is always the same. She almost dragged herself out of the bed, dressed in the same way, made a cup of coffee and sat in front of her laptop.
This is perhaps the only remaining escapes from her reality. Writing is so freeing than explaining to the old therapist how she is feeling and why. She can’t tell the therapist why she is so lost, so afraid to live and perhaps so afraid to die as well. There is always something deeper than love, something closer than mere intimacy, something more concrete and more permanent, something more unattainable and unrecognizable till you attain it and yes they had that!
She sat there looking at the screen as it glows warmly at her face. Once again she read the saved chat logs. Yet again she relived those countless moments. For one last time she wanted to believe that everything is still the same. So desperately she wanted to believe that he is still there beside her with his hands stretched out to reach her the moment she fall, trip or slip. But alas it was only the autumn wind and the wind chime conspired and created a tune of the long lost song. And perhaps for the first time in so many years she cried. As the warm tears rolled down her cheeks it startled her as she almost believed in the fact that her eyes have become dry as the desert! Through her tears she discovered that the well of nothingness has deepened only and she has not healed as she has forced herself to believe.
For the very first time after so many years she felt the indomitable will of acting as a madman would. She stood up and slowly walked to the bathroom. A strange nausea almost engulfed her. She wanted to throw up whatever precious little she had the other night. Yes, she was sure that this was what she wanted to do. She needed to throw up. She needed to expel everything inside her. Everything….and every little thing!
The straight razor shone in the lightlessness of the small bathroom as it relinquished all inside of her. The blade was insanely cold, smooth and wickedly sharp across the tender flesh of her throat.
A flash of pain and then all is warm and tingling as she freed the mighty red river of life! The world slipped away as the black moths slowly took over her. And it is right then she heard his voice. The voice is so real. The sound grew closer and closer … Is that him or the wind chime! She closed her eyes as darkness consumed her !