P.S: The Day

Where do I start my story? Should I begin from the day it all happened or the day I had a premonition? Well...lets keep the latter for another day.

It was one of those comfortable months in a small town of Tamil Nadu where people went about their businesses quietly. I was a happy working woman. In fact, I couldn’t have been happier. I was working in an organization which was my extended family, had been married to the man I loved since past six years, had a naughty little four and half year old to run behind and was  five months pregnant with our second baby. I was on cloud nine. Which woman wouldn’t be???  On top of it, I was now walking, rather rolling, like an unguided ball due to my baby bump.

Like always, reached my office and immersed myself into a long-pending file. My phone rang and my heart skipped beats. He always had this effect on me even after six years of marriage. We spoke for a few minutes as he was in a hurry to go for his sortie. I never knew that it was the last time I would be hearing his voice. I went about my work oblivious to what was happening thousands of kilometres away from me.

When I look back and recollect the happenings of that day I still feel dazed. I vividly remember entering into the office of my boss and the news of his death being broken to me in a matter of fact manner. I clearly remember sitting like a stone for a few seconds before calling up my mother and telling her that her son-in-law was no longer alive and I was okay. I also recollect telling his boss to break the news to my husband's parents. Was I crying? I think I was shedding silent tears. No wailing no shrieks. Not because I was expecting my husband's death or I didnt love him. I was pregnant and had a four and half year old daddy's girl to handle. Instinctively my children became priority and the wife in me quietly retreated into the backdrop. I too could have howled, shouted and created a scene. In fact, I always thought that I was emotionally weak but that day, that very moment, the way I reacted was contrary to my inherent nature. I realised that this was like the calm before a storm.

To this day I realise that life had brought me to a point where I was faced with conflicting situations, a la avoidance-avoidance type since the moment I was told "He is dead". To think back, I now put myself in the shoes of people present in that room every once in a while. After all, it is not easy to tell somebody that their paradise no longer exists. It is tough to tell a lady or anybody madly in love that their beloved has died. And...to attempt telling it with a poker face is one of the most difficult task. A harbringer of bad news is not easy to forget but then situations turn such that one ends up with the responsibility of doing so.

 But with every ending there is a new beginning.

Love,
R

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