The Journey


Its journey began from her pupils to the bridge of her nose. She was still; stationary like a perplexed paralyzed planet in a small part of the universe questioning her existence.
“Do I exist? Is my existence complete without him?”
It always was two bodies, one soul, two wheels, one road, one steam engine and the other coal.

“Together forever”, he’d say, “I’ll be your crutch when you fall down, always lend you my hand and build a small house with you in the town.”

“Together forever”, she’d reply and smile at his twinkling eyes.

Now, she stares at him, his eyes; clueless and lost. The little ball of liquid journeys from the bridge of her nose to her pale cheeks and she blinks, sending another one to join the voyage of pain. She stares at the lost eyes again, reminiscing the moments when it shone the brightest.


“We did it!! Our dreams are finally coming true, look dear! Look!” he’d said ecstatic, skipping in the new furnished empty hall where they would be creating new memories.
She looked at the white wall and imagined the family portrait right opposite to their dining hall. Their new house in the town was a dream that came true for both of them. They stared at each other, the twinkle and curve matching each other’s.


She blinks again, sending the third drop to join the other two travelers.

“We have a baby girl, dear. She’s so beautiful. She’s got your lips and my eyes,” he’d whispered to her in the labor room holding her hand. His hands were so warm and comforting. She knew he would always protect her and their child and keep them safe.


Like the north wind blew on her, she shivered from the back of her neck to the bottom of her spine. The warmth of the strong hands were gone, it was pale, white and inhumane now. She suddenly feels vulnerable and cold. Who would protect her and their child now? Whose strong hands will she hold?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud wail. She turned to see her eight year old child on the ground, reaching her hand out to her mother.

Her final look at her dead husband and she blinks again, the last drop of tears pushes all the others up to her chin and with a stroke of her palm, she wipes the voyage of pain away. She walks like a soldier, flaunting in her white sari, strength suddenly embracing her, she hugs her daughter, shielding her from every pain possible.
“Does she exist? Will she survive without him? Is her hand strong enough like her husband’s to hold her daughter up? “

The answer to her questions came naturally when her daughter hugged her tighter and filled her empty vulnerable heart with strength she could have never imagined for herself.

“Yes, I do exist for my child, to protect her against all odds, raise her right and I am never vulnerable and weak for her, even without him”, she whispered to herself.


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