The Binding String

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saudade

(n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; the love that remains.

Ishita badly regretted having a broken leg that day, if she wouldn't have a broken leg then she would ran away somewhere, away from him and the memories. The scattered albums of her pre marriage functions everywhere on the bed reminded her the promises they made with each other that night, the passion they shared, the trust they showed on each other. They were never in love with each other but they earned respect in each other eyes, they had adoration for each other something which she felt enough to spend her life with him and appearently they must be loved together if the things didn't took turn in such a ugly way. She couldn't help to stop herself from admiring the picture of there from cocktail night where she was in his arms, snuggled closely and he tucking her silky locks behind her ears. She bit her lower lip recalling how her akka teased her for particular picture, named them as fairytale couple on which she foolishly believed and almost forgot that all fairytale didn't meant to end on happily ever after note. Through entire afternoon Ishita remained seated in her room, Roohi innocent act made her nostalgic and she was unable to hide her emotions anymore. She pulled the album towards her and flipped the page where his solo picture was pasted, laughing wholeheartedly showing his cute dimple. She caressed his picture softly, she continued to admire him again and again refused to blink her eyes. His physical presence makes her irriate but she don't know why his memories sooth her. She realised she is nothing but turning weak again, he did not deserve her emotions infact no one deserves her emotions. She wiped her cheeks and arranged the albums neatly. Ishita greeted her Mummy Ji who entered in her room carrying her food.

"Mummy Ji I'm not hungry." Ishita whispered looking at the bowl of soup.

"Sorry Puttar but it will not be entertained. Come on finish it." Santhosh unfolded the small table and kept the bowl on it. Ishita pouted looking at soup and then her Mummy Ji who signalled her to finish it quietly. Ishita nodded her head like small child and started to drink soup quitely.

"Mummy Ji Roohi? Is she fine?" Ishita asked hesitation after few minutes.

"She is. I'm going to take her for bath." Santhosh replied arranging the albums back on place. Ishita bit her lower lip seeing the love and care in her mother in law eyes. She still didn't understand why the old woman loves her so much. If there would be any other woman then she would cursed her for breaking her son home but the lady never complained her for once. Ishita smiled in reply when Santhosh left room to give Roohi bath and Raman entered there.

She remained silent and started to type the application for leave to university to notify them about her accident. Otherside Raman kept his suitcase on bed and started to unpack his clothes. Ishita who was typing an application to university shut her laptop hard finding him scattering his dirty and unwashed clothes on the bed. "Aye remove it. Can't you dump your clothes in laundry basket?" Raman royally ignored his wounded lioness while arranging his stuffs back in his wardrobe. Ishita flared her nose with irritation and threw a cushion towards him.

"Here take it. Bharo usmein sab." (Keep the clothes in it.) He placed laundry basket near her and pile of clothes on her lap. "Vaise bhi tum khaali baithi ho. Meri jaan khaao usse better tum kuch kaam hi karo." (You're already jobless so it's better if we keep you busy with some or other works.) Ishita glared him angrily and pinched the bridge of her nose reminding herself not to get irritated. She started to unfold his trousers one by one and dump them in laundry basket after separating the henckercheif from them, she always wonder why he keep separate henckercheif with every trouser. Such an abnormal person. After dumping all his pants she picked his shirts and started to dump them after unbuttoning. The blue cotton shirt is her favourite, he looked extremely charming in that shirt, she caressed the fabric lovingly before dumping it. Next she picked his white shirt and started to unbuttoning it, before she could dumping her eyes fell over the pink mark near the collar line of the shirt. Her hands started to tremble and eyes turned watery recalling the incident which led her towards the accident. She threw his shirt angrily on floor, her eyes turned watery with the pain of betrayal. All his concern and care in these minutes started to look fake to her. She almost forgot the news which made her life upside down, made her feel miserable that night.