My Dearest Aazaad. Preface

Ayush kept the laptop from his lap to the study table in front of him. ‘Say something, Aazaad.’ He mumbled desperately as he shifted his eyes from the blade to the laptop screen only to find out that there was still not even a single response to the thousands of emails that he has sent to her. He again looked at the blade in dismay and feathered his fingers on the cold steel razor whose one cut could end his life in no more than 10 minutes. The memories of his time with her flashed in front of his eyes. He opened the last drawer in his table with trembling hands. He burnt all the things she left or things that could remind him of the girl he loved that’s what his friend, Arun, thought but it never was everything, Ayush still had something that belonged to her. ‘How can I give this to a fire that doesn’t even know what these bunch of sentences mean to me? These were the last words she wrote for me, this is my last present from her.’ He leaned and searched the almost empty drawer and picked a paper that was torn in half.

Some people are meant to go. They are there just to make you smile, to make you laugh, to make you learn, to make you cry. They heal you, they teach you and then they go once there work is done. I am that person too. The words scribbled on the paper said.

‘Then why did you cry writing this? If you were supposed to go why did you come in the first place? Is this the destiny you always told me about? Was this the plan of the almighty God? To make me vulnerable, to lead me to my death from your hands? Didn’t you say words heal people, then how come your words always pierce my heart? Just why? Why did I fall in love with you? Why did I ever meet you? Just why couldn’t I stop myself from running to you that night? Why did I stop you from leaving that night?’

Teary eyes and with shaky hands, he was prepared to slit his wrist and end the pain and longing that he was feeling for her. But in a small corner of his heart he knew he wouldn’t be needing to do it because he had hope that as soon as Aazaad will read his last email, she will reply. She will come back. But he also knew that there was a higher chance that this email will go unnoticed like every other one. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he stood up from his chair and walked to the refrigerator to get the last can of beer left in his fridge. As he walked step by step to the big gray machine, his tears started running down from his swollen bloodshot eyes to his cheeks to the neck only to get evaporated by his body burning in fever. His hope was fading away, he was no longer afraid to die but was afraid to die not knowing where she was, not being able to see her for one last time. He smiled, she said to not to click her pictures, I was too stupid to listen to her, he thought. ‘Please come back. Please.’ He begged falling down on his knees.

‘It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to beg, to feel weak,’ a voice whispered in his ears as he closed his eyes to clear the water. Her fingers were wiping his tears from his face. She felt warm, she felt close. She felt as if she has come back and this time, to really stay by his side forever. He smiled and said, ‘I knew you’d come’.