Looking for a title - from 2009

Looking for a title - from 2009

The window slammed open followed by strong wind, and, rain entering into the room, as if there was a fight going on between the window and the rain. The rain had finally won it.  Such heavy rains in Delhi was an event, everyone had a view about it. Some thought it would be a respite from the soaring temperature, whereas others thought it would make commuting more difficult. But, Delhi, as a city doesn’t have a taste for enjoying rain. Everyone has a view.

The door of the house opened with a creaking noise, as if, warning of someone’s arrival.  Apra entered. She soon discovered the spoils of the fight between the window and the rain. At moments when people would be filled with rage or at least disappointment or frustration, Apra did not even blink. She did the requisite cleaning, changed and made herself a cup of tea.

While sipping the tea she looked out of the window, children playing in muddy water, the radio was playing in the background. Apra never thought much, but, when she thought, she thought intensely. It was then difficult for her to come out of those thoughts.

Apra worked with a fortnightly magazine. She had been on the same job since she left home, seven years back.  The only difference being that she is one of the competent employees now, she joined as an office assistant. She lived alone in the city, except for a few very good friends and coworkers, Apra only talked to the neighbors. She was never an introvert, but in the last few years, the kind of person that she has become, not many people find it easy and favorable to talk to her.

There was a knock on the door. Apra opened the door to find Amma. Amma lived in the second house down the street; she dropped in while coming back from the market to see Apra. She would again n again come up with the topic of Apra’s marriage and how a woman was incomplete without getting married and things like that. Apra just listened.

Like most days, Apra was carrying home a feature that required editing. She finished her dinner early everyday and liked to work before she slept. That made her feel worth breathing.

Apra closed her eyes and was fast asleep or maybe she was awake, may be somewhere in the between. Apra dreamt or thought of the same incident that took place 11 years back. The same morning, the same road, Apra, on the road; and the next thing that she remembers is the faces of her family members, her mother crying and all that sympathy. Apra pushed herself to consciousness.

She was now sitting on the bed, thinking of all the things that had followed that day and the next few days. Apra remembered people saying that it was better if God took away a life than taking away a limb and other people trying to sympathize with her by saying that she was still complete without her left hand. The irony was that they did not fail to mention what she was ‘complete’ without.

Apra had lost her left hand in the road mishap. She was 14 then.

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