Think of Me

The final words

The bus breaks to a halt 
then revs up again.
A metal insect on rolling wheels.
Crawling through the narrow roads of the city.
Devouring people. Disgorging them.
She sits by the window at the back .
Unfocused.
Unsettled.
Unspoken to.
Her head tilts at the glass. 
Her glazed eyes look at the lights,
the shops, the billboards and gleaming brown skins of men.
Coming at her and then falling behind. 
Her ticket is rolled around her index finger like a bandage.
Damp air streams from the air conditioner.
The tubes in the ceiling shine faintly. 
She wants to close her eyes.
Shut out the lights.
Shut out the vibrations.
Shut out the ticking time.
No. 
There are no comforts for now.. 
She smooths the whorls of her hair. 
She looks down and caresses her hand with long slender fingers. 
Lingering a second longer on the metal band on her wrist. 
Bracing. For things to come.
The bus is stopping.
It’s where she has to disembark. 
He is waiting. She knows.

She slips through the narrow space 
and pads over the steel floor fastened with bolts.
Careful not to touch anyone. 
A woman on the seat beside is staring.
She quickly turns her eyes.
She can’t hold any gaze. 
Every eye is a laser beam, searing a hole in her being. 
She hopes she doesn’t look too forlorn.
Not to him, she shouldn’t. 
But she is here and there is no time.

She climbs down the bus. 
A moment passes. 
And there he is. 
In a blue pullover.
He has a soft face and an easy smile.
Dark hair that follow no pattern. 
And eyes which light up when he gets excited. 
He waves a hand and beckons her. 
She edges towards him. 
‘You look lovely, Sylvia,’ he approves.
‘Do I ?’ she wants to ask.
‘Come on.’ 
He gently nudges her shoulder
as though she were a convalescing invalid needing directions.
But that is him. 
Him caring.
His hand drifts to hers. 
His fingers tangle into hers as though that is where they belong.
‘Still?’
Then they slide and curl around them.

She walks with him over the cemented curb. 
Moments flee from her. 
A cool breeze envelopes her like arms. 
She turns to him. 
‘Asit,’ she says softly. 
His face is inscrutable. He says nothing. 
So she waits. And they walk. 
Her face downcast, staring vaguely at the gravel underfoot. 
Her fingers locked in his. 
They veer to a street that leads to a block of houses. 
Her house one among them. 
The street lights spill milky beams as the insects fly around. 
They head towards the park. 
Its late.
There is no one there. 
A cold metal bench lies in a jutted corner under the canopy of trees. 
She inches to it.
She sits at an end, he sits at another. 
The glass windows of the houses shine 
like little squares of yellow lights.

‘Sylvy,’ he calls. 
Sylvy. 
The name rings. 
‘Sylvy, will you be okay?’ 
A silence lingers and settles between them. 
Then she realizes its her name. 
And a sound hasn’t escaped her lips. 
‘What?’ she says. 
‘I asked you a question,’ his voice is gentle. 
Tell me the answer too, please.
‘I am leaving tomorrow. You know that.’
She nods like a child. 
He told her a week back. 
He has to go.. 
To a city far where Sylvia can’t follow.
Constraints, priorities and life. 
And Love? 
Well, love is in Sylvia. 
And Sylvia is in love. 
His lips move mechanically. 
He is talking, explaining to her.
One final time. 
His whys. 
His practical plans. 
His dreams that hereon diverge from hers. 
So she can understand.

Their faces are hidden in the shadows. 
And no one is looking. 
Their eyes glint alone in the dark. 
She should fling her arms around his face, she thinks. 
She should curl up in his arms. 
Listen to his heart beats. 
Like old times. 
Kiss him good. 
Take his face in her hands.
Trace the contours.
Before he goes. 
One last time.
But there is a chasm furrowed. 
And there is no reaching.

‘I hope you would understand.’
……
‘I hope you would forgive me.’
……
He takes her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. 
She looks into his eyes. 
‘Do you want me to take you home?’ he asks.
‘No.’
‘Okay,’ he hesitates.
‘You should go,’ she says. 
He rises on his feet, still watching her. 
And then he leans and brushes a lock of hair on her face and tucks it behind her ears.
His face is inches away from her. 
She can feel the warmth of his breath over her skin. 
His hand gently slides into her hair
and he kisses her on her forehead. 
She closes her eyes. 
Lights, vibrations and ticking Time.
All shut out. 
A relief. 
And then he pulls away. 
‘Good Bye Sylvy.’
His hand grazes her cheek before it leaves. 
‘Think of me.’ Something elementally sad in his voice. 
He turns and leaves, pacing away, swiftly into lights. 
And then into darkness.

Stars shine brightly in the sky. 
Sylvia is in the park on the bench
Right where he left her. Alone.
Think of me.
An order to follow? 
An option to choose? 
Think of me.
A plea to be consented?
A gift? His final to her. 
Think of me.
A memory of him for her to preserve? 
A final service to his male ego ?
What a cruel thing to say, she thinks. 
Think of you.
That is all I do, you dammit.