Prologue

They were sitting on the bench opposite her. His hand was draped around her shoulder, holding her close against him. Her head was lying against his broad chest; with her eyes held closed, a sweet smile playing on her lips. He was idly caressing her hair, brushing it off her face, while looking far off in the distance with content eyes.

Sandhya could no longer sit there and watch them without cringing deep inside. She had stopped wondering when she would stop feeling this way long time back. Somehow, it had become a part of who she was.

She picked up her bag and started walking back home. The park was not too far from her home. So, she preferred to walk the distance.  And as she walked away, her brows furrowed and her eyes seemed distant. A light breeze brushed past her face and moved on, carrying away old and dead leaves. A last few leaves rippled, as they clung on to the trees in defiance of the oncoming winter. 

But Sandhya didn't see any of it. What she did see, while walking on the dirt path, were crowded streets—its high-rises; the incessant traffic; smartly dressed people walking fast and jostling for space; the feel of his hand in hers; the sense of comfort knowing he—

Sandhya gasped and stopped dead in her tracks. Her thoughts had taken her by surprise. 'How?!', she wondered aloud. Her own voice jerked her back to reality and she realized, as if for the first time, that she was still in the park. She started walking again.

Her stride was long and brisk, and her eyes were fixed ahead. She was trying very hard to stop her thoughts from straying again. Over the years, slowly and gradually, it had become easier to not think about certain things. But today, for some reason, she was finding it hard to rein her thoughts in.

‘Drat, that couple!’, she fumed. But she knew that they were just an excuse. After so many years, it was the first time her mind was empty of all activity. For the first time in years, it was silent. A silence she was not used to; a silence that was beginning to scare her; a silence that let her hear those muffled sobs, those terrifying screams, those...

‘NOOOO! Not now! Not now! I am not ready! Please let me reach my home! Not now!’ she screamed in her head. 

Her scream shattered the unbidden silence. She was safe... for now.

Sandhya sighed and continued to tread along. Her pace had slackened gradually as she took the familiar road back home. For no reason at all, the thought of going back home had become so dreadful. Home was no longer a comfortable place to be. But then nothing was comfortable these days.

She shook her head in an effort to shake away her brooding thoughts. It wasn't like her to be so blue but she was unable to help herself.

She reached her apartment building and got in the elevator. She was all alone in there. She glanced to her side... hoping... no, wishing he was there standing next to her. All she saw was her reflection in the mirrored wall; the reflection of a woman in her 30s, with hair falling down her shoulder in rich curls. She had a small, almost oval face, which contrasted with her bold features. A broad, blunt nose sat above small, yet full lips. But most of all, what dominated her face were her eyes. Large, almond shaped, they were the color of rich brown chocolate. And yet when she looked deep in them, she saw that they had lost their light.

The elevator doors glided open and she stepped out. As she walked down the empty hallway, she saw herself walking ahead, holding hands with him. He said something in her ear, and she was giggling out loud.

Sandhya stood there in the hallway, in the midst of her memories; feeling more desolate than ever. With an effort, she brushed the memories away and walked to her apartment.

As she opened the door, she wanted to close it back again. Her house was a total mess. Clothes, books, some half-packed boxes; they were all lying around, and she had kept promising herself that she will get around to them... eventually. But she still hadn't. Taking a deep breath to brace herself, she stepped in and closed the door behind her. Placing her keys in the usual drawer, and her handbag on the couch, she looked all around to access her living quarters that now looked worse than a war zone. This was it; she couldn't take it anymore without doing something about it. So she set about to clean the place.

Two hours later, the place looked livable. Sandhya disliked clutter. She needed to have that sense of space and freedom, both in her life and where she lived. So she made sure that her decor helped give her living space a breezy, open feel. No matter how depressed she felt, she felt an amazing sense of peace when she was home. She looked around and felt a deep sense of satisfaction; she had cleared the clutter in her house.

But then her eyes drifted toward the half-packed boxes—the only things that she had left untouched. And she felt a dread, a heavy, dull feeling of absolute helplessness and futility, creeping back into her heart; she could feel it seep back into her bones. Sandhya slumped back on the couch.

After a while, she found herself curled up into a ball on the sofa, hugging herself and sobbing hard. She didn't know how long she was lying like that or since when. Groggily as she began to collect her wits, she recalled that she had fallen asleep. And she was crying because of a dream.

She vaguely remembered what her dream was. She saw herself kneeling down on the floor, her hand outstretched toward a man a few feet away; a man who was walking away from her. She thought she called out to him, though she couldn't remember saying anything. He stopped. And then ran back to her, knelt by her side, and put his arms around her to comfort her.

That is when she had begun crying.

Sandhya got up and walked out to the wide balcony. She stood at the railing watching the traffic crawl by in the distance. She had hoped that with every passing day, things would become better. But she was beginning to realize with a brutal certainty, that the wound in her heart would never heal. She would always have that deep, scary emptiness in her heart, and nothing could help her change that. Nothing. Unless...

She held up her chin resolutely and walked back into the living room toward the half-packed boxes.