The Meeting

The day was just like others. I woke up from sleep and was lying in the same age old bed on which the slightest moment of my body created a cracking sound. The voice would pierce through the silent air into my ears creating a discomfort which I had got used to. The light peeps through from the window and strikes me on my face as I could barely open my eyes. I hover my hand over the table just beside my bed to find my glasses and the long held silence in the room is broken by the sound of the falling glass. The glass falls on the dirty floor which is house to a lot of stuff, a broken chair lies adjacent to an almirah which holds the trophies of my triumphant past. The pages scrambled by the wind from last night lay on the floor. The wooden block filled with my winter clothes finds its place in the corner of the room. The wall which can crumble anytime is holding a photograph of my family. A table filled with every kind of useless material is in the middle of the room. I scan the room as if I had never been here. I turn my head back to have a look at the indicator and I realize that the electricity is down. An old man in 70s easily forgets to pay the bills and with no caretaker left I wonder who would pay my bills. I try to look for my glasses on the floor moving my hand to and fro, gazing every bit of my vicinity but I return pale and thin. I miss my mother who used to look after my belongings, but for last 20 years I have been all alone taking care of myself, fighting with my age, fighting for my survival. We were a family just like any other but everything change two decades back, the village was devastated by an earthquake, I lost my family, or should I say “they lost me”, the result however was we were not together. I remember how I rushed back home in search of any survivor when I had already heard about the devastating effect of the earthquake.  It had succeeded it shaking the core of my heart, everything was lost, my family, my friends.

I take a deep breath and try to get up from my bed and I hear the customary “Mew” from the cat who visits me once in a while. She comes into the room and romances with the floor, thinking that I notice. I could hardly see as everything looks blurred without my glasses on. I lean forward to caress her with my hand moving back and forth in her fur which feels so good on my hand. She moves around and starts licking my hand, the act she doesn’t do every day. I was smiling as I continued to survey her feminine curves. It was a knock at the door, which brought me back to the real world that I was living in. I twist my hearing aid into my ears as the knocking continues to ensure myself that it wasn’t my age that was making fun of my hearing. The house seems to have come alive, as if it had been waiting for a visitor to come. Thousands of random thoughts engage with the small brains I am left with, as I try to figure out who this visitor could be. It takes only a minute for the knocking to stop and the visitor vanishes. I turn back to my bed and try remembering the time when I had my friends visiting me. How beautiful the days were and how nice the world was. The house was always filled with kids, me my friends would run havoc in the house which stood renovated now.

I lay on the bed and the cat jumps over. She slides closer to me, closer than usual and closes her eyes and falls asleep within the blink of an eye. I could sense that the day was different, very unlike the other days. It had started with some kind of aroma in the air. As if a long lost son was going to arrive today. I go deeper in my thoughts but the footsteps on the wooden floor of the lobby alert me. I am excited and afraid at the same time, but I restrict my movements, lest I would disturb the kitty sleeping adjacent to me. The footsteps seem to come closer and I am filled with a thrill. I could feel a hand over my bedroom door, with the slightest touch of which the door leans backwards. I grip tightly my bed sheet, the angel had come to take me into his arms and take me away forever, releasing me from my bonds.

The stranger steps in, holding the gown up, keeping distance from the dirty floor. She bends over, I could barely see and lifts the glass up and keeps it on the table. I try to speak but I choke, I haven’t spoken for days now. The visitor moves in trying to find a place to sit upon. I try to offer her a place but I feel as if I have been chained, unable to make gestures and unable to speak. She takes off the clothes from the broken chair and places them on the bed, patting the chair and raising some dust. She sneezes and holds the scarf around her mouth and nose to avoid more dust and litter going into her mouth. She brings the chair closer to the bed and eases into the chair’s embrace. I try to search for my glasses bending and leaning towards the right side of my bed, awaking the cat from her sleep. She mews and leaves the room like an angry child leaves the when scolded by his dad. I can’t find the glasses and in despair I lean forwards trying to get a clear picture of who the visitor was without my glasses on. I rub my eyes and I could roughly see a face. With whatever hint I got, I could not make out who the visitor was. Trying to speak, I gather all my energy and muster some courage and finally speak out, “Who are you?”

The lady who seems to be in her 60s gets up all of a sudden as if I had offended her by asking her who she was. She turns backwards and moves forward and looks at the picture hanging on the wall. Slowly and steadily she moves her hand towards it. I yell, “Don’t touch it! It will fall.” She stops and brings her hand back, rather disheartened. She looks at me as if asking for a permission to touch it, just like a mother who wants to hold her son one last time before she goes away forever. I nod my head but I don’t utter a word, yet allowing her to go ahead with it. With her trembling hands she takes the picture off the wall and brings it closer to her all shaking. She moves her hand over it removing the dust from the picture and whispers, “Sultan”. That is my name, I felt like as if a wave had overwhelmed me. The voice was somewhat familiar, the word spoken belonged to me but I couldn’t make it out who she was. I yelled once again, “Who are you? Would you tell me please?” She takes a step backward holding the picture close to her chest and moves towards me and sits just beside me on the bed. She sighs and moves her hand over the bed sheet and touches my fingers rather hesitantly. The feeling of how a human’s skin feels on your body was something that I had not seen for ages. I felt a tremor throughout my body from head to toe. I moved my toes and could sense Goosebumps all over my right arm, the arm which she had touched. I could feel her trembling hands over my hand and hesitatingly she held it tight. “My glasses”, I burst out like a helpless lad held in chains. She ignored what I said and moved my hand over her face.

I could sense that she was commanding every move I made, I had been captured. I moved my hand on her cheeks actively trying to make out who she was. It was difficult to figure out on a wrinkled face who the person was. I was about to accept my defeat in not being able to recognize who the person was that a tear fell from her eyes on my hand. I at once moved my hand away and washed of the tear with another hand; she interrupted and held my hand close to her chest. She was breathing heavily, weeping bitterly and I could make it out from her heartbeats that there was some kind of pain which was getting relieved form. As the moments pass by, I become increasingly curious who this visitor was but I remain silent allowing her to gain composure.

She stood up as if she had read my mind, as if she knew that I was curious, that I wanted to know who she was. I could feel it from her gestures that she didn’t want to answer my questions; that she wanted to leave me with suspense, but she unknowingly revealed her identity by opening her mouth. She takes a deep breath and utters the words, “I am yet to clear some debts. Once I clear those, I will come back. Wait for me Sull.”