Seek (II)
A clap of thunder. A flash of lightning. The silent room was animated by the brilliant bolt and sound. But she was oblivious to these.
An inhaled gulp here. An exhaled gob there. Her tiny feet wore the Persian rug in with their intrusive attention. The warmth of its material nuzzled her toes, fleetingly grounding her to earth.
Lightning flashed again, with thunder rumbling the windowpanes.
North, south, she drew a vertical line across the room. Her mind picked, sized and tossed thoughts about; lofty, modest, pleasant, or negative, whatever form they took, none was spared.
The sky rumbled again, more violently than the previous ones.
The persistent tapping on the window finally got through and jolted her from her frantic rhythm. She slowed her tempo and focused on it long and hard. For a minute, she struggled to make sense of it, only to realise that the pitter-patter was rain. Adjusting to the abrupt interruption, she stopped pacing and rushed to the open screens with outstretched arms to catch the rippling curtains. They slapped her face in their bid to fight the turbulent wind. She managed to shut one of the windowpanes. And after thirty seconds of tussle, she gracelessly pulled the draperies around her.
Enveloped within the enclosed space, she leaned forward, blew air on a screen and wiped the spot with her sleeve. The view cleared up to reveal that it was dark and dreary outside. Squinting her eyes, she made out a lone figure who dashed from one dingy shade to another with hands improvised as an umbrella, only to run into the torrent with a cry. In the background, cars honked at each other in solidarity as a tack to drive in line; frustration could only find an outlet through squealing tires. By now, the darkness was thicker and cheerless.
A baby shrieked a stone throw away. Further down the street, a dog barked mournfully. But she looked on silently, making no move to return to her previous endeavour. Then she threw herself into the turbulence that embodied the billion-fold plip and plop of rain dripping just outside. Safe within the confines of her room, much as she hated it, she soaked in the white noise of nature, imagining what it would be like to be sodden in the heavy downpour. The imagery all but sent her down two floors to the great outdoors. Restraint at that moment was for the weak, and she considered herself so and stayed put, concluding that the cold was not worth it.
Her gaze muddled and took her right off the scene and landed her on the makeshift football field with its heavy dose of sunlight. This time, rather than sit and enjoy the landscape, she walked over to the greener grass on the other side but found it dull. Weeds had crept into the shrubbery, growing wild and free. She bent and pulled up some but knew it would not be enough.
And, thus grew my garden of weeds.
Her fingers trailed the tiny patch of grass beneath her. With her tongue stuck between her teeth, she brushed off strips of dirt as though they would somehow make up for the trespass.
“Such disrespect!” she thought.
Disrespect she knew all too well. She raised her head and basked in the sunrays, closing her eyes to its luminance.
Things improved after she erected walls to block out ‘Another’, so his charm would not get through to her. Then she gave into watering her side of the grass despite feeling unsure of ‘him’. Soon enough, their relationship started to feel too good to be true, such that she shared her observation with him. Nodding his head in agreement, he told her to live in the moment. She had wondered at his response and what informed the positive shift.
Just as quickly, events unfurled, and the centre wobbled gravely. Beneath them, a deep fissure opened up, snaking its way into the very heart of their connection. They had been aware and yet oblivious of it. Maybe they hoped it would close up by itself, or they were waiting out their impending fall. Either way, she woke up one day to find him gone, even though he sat right beside her on their dates. But she knew by intuition that she had lost him. And so, they played the game of ignorance till her mind could take the torture no longer.
“You are not here with me.” She confronted him finally.
“What are you saying? I am right here.” he had retorted incredulously.
“No. You’re not,” she’d whispered, short wheezes of breath escaping her lungs as she placed her hand on her chest and pointed to her heart. He’d kept silent and looked in the distance above her head.
“I’ve had a lot on my plate, that’s why.” was all he’d offered eventually.
“Like what?” She’d asked, propping her slumped torso on the table.
“Look, If I wanted to share, I would have told you about it.”
“But.. but I thought we are partners. A team!”
“Well, I would rather we aren’t that anymore. It is taking a huge toll on me. I’m having to give more than I want to.” He’d said simply.
A train had whistled and rumbled past them some metres away, its wheels noisily running on the tracks. It had masked the heavy thud that had been her heart. Hard as she’d tried, the tears had come.
A clap of thunder. A flash of lightning. Her cheeks felt sticky and warm; she touched her fingers to them and met tears. Then she sniffled and hugged herself.
Better is the end of a thing than the beginning.
She recited from memory to herself.
Closing her mind’s eye to the image of the young woman bent low in the garden, whose hands still pulled out weeds, she heaved and returned her gaze to the downpour.
