A PATCH OF RED! #WRITEAPAGEADAY @BLOGCHATTER

 
                                                                                                       Unsplash

Soorya handed over a cheque of fifty lakhs to the organizers of the function in Rajat’s name. Memories assailed her, like stinging hornets. She wore a beautiful sari in blue and green; Rajat’s favourite colours. She remembered the day when he had bought it for her and handed it over to her, exquisitely gift-wrapped, waiting impatiently for her to tear it open.

However, she could never bring herself to tear open a gift-wrapped package. She loved the crinkle of the paper, the delicate pulling apart of the ribbon, and the first sight of the gift within. It was the little girl within her who still loved receiving gifts.

When she wore the sari for the first time, his eyes had sparkled with glee.

“So beautiful, Soorya!” He called her by her name. No titles. He preferred to keep it simple, especially with people he loved. It was not so with his possessions, though. He loved his shiny, red racing bike which had cost a pretty packet. The first time he had seen it, his heart had skipped a beat. It was love at first sight and he knew that he had to buy it. Which he did!
“When I ride it, the wind ruffling my hair, I feel that I am on top of the world. It is the best feeling ever!”

His excitement was contagious. She smiled back at him, even as he continued to wax eloquent about his ‘red beauty’. He would polish it till he could see his face on its shiny surface. Luckily, he was a careful driver and followed all the road safety rules stringently.

Soorya was a social worker who had many charities that she espoused. The fact that she came from a well to do family and married into yet another one did not hurt. Her face often smiled out from magazines and newspapers and wherever she went, she was instantly recognised.

Rajat was extremely proud of her, and he made no bones about it. His world revolved around her, and her word was law. At one call from her, he would drop whatever he was doing and rush to her side, maybe because he had seen her, cast down in despondency at a time when she had lost her parents in an accident. Being an only child, she had inherited a fortune, but it came at a price that had broken her heart. When she suffered an even deeper loss in life, it was Rajat who had taken care of her and brought her out of her depression.

Rajat and she lived alone in their palatial mansion with a retinue of servants who did their every bidding. It was as if they did not need anyone else in their life. The gossips were vociferous as they predicted a sea change that would come in and transform their relationship.

“Back for lunch, Soorya!” Rajat had bolted down his boiled egg and toast, gulped his scalding tea with a grimace and rushed out. He was apparently late for an important appointment.

Lunch was served, All Rajat’s favourite dishes – rajma-chawal, fried fish and kheer. It was a special day after all. At half past one, she called him.

“Will be there in half an hour, Soorya! I can smell my favourite food over the phone.” His deep chuckle had warmed her heart. She smiled as she turned off her phone and sat back to wait.

She waited and waited. The phone rang suddenly, startling her out of her reverie. She listened to a strange voice, trying to convey a message, but her ears began to ring.

“I am sorry. I think you have a wrong number,” she said calmly, trying to stem the flow at the other end,

“Isn’t this Mrs. Shah?” The voice sounded a trifle hesitant.

“Yes, it is!“ she retorted. “But you have obviously got the wrong Mrs. Shah!” Her voice trembled even as she tried to sound emphatic, but there was a trace of hysteria in it.

That phone call had shattered her life in an instant.

She had rushed, panic-stricken, to the spot where he had fallen. His red beauty lay there on the side of the road, strangely dusty and forlorn. He had been rushed to the nearest hospital, but the collision had been mammoth.

A collision with a gargantuan lorry in a hurry that had rammed the red bike! She stifled a gasp as her eyes fell on the patch of red that glistened on the tarred road.

A patch of red that was all that was of the one who had held her hand through all the tragedies in her life. Her beloved son, Rajat!

 I am participating in the #WriteAPageADay Challenge by #Blogchatter in the month of February.

 782 words


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

THE STRANGE CASE OF THE MISSING TEETH

The Miracle of Love - Fiction - Post Number 8: #MyFriendAlexa

Clouds and Waves by Rabindrananth Tagore - Poetry: The Best Words in the Best Order - #BlogchatterA2ZChallenge2021