Epitaph:arbitrary reminescence

A Story by Namrata

What I felt when he died

He was the quiet one. Only I was jolly when around him. There was something about his presence that imbued me with crimson love. My brain never gave birth to the question why or how. It was just love. His eyes had the power to dissemble the awkwardness of others when they saw him coming towards me. My behavior was redolent of passion. I don’t know if he liked me being mawkish but he never complained. I would carry him in my arms clinging to my chest, he would cuddle up quietly and snugly into my arms and he managed it too inside my heart. My evenings, afternoons were not profligate, they were given a new dimension. There was this impulse to come out of my house with a nice hairdo and bright calico dresses to impress him. He would come out of the tin shade eagerly, give me a heartwarming look and would nudge his head in my arms as if he were saying,” I like the way you look”. He was handsome always. Better than the rest. His siblings ran away from me and so I never pruned. He was caring too, whenever he felt that I tripped or got uneasy to carry him, He would lick my hands as if he were consoling me. He would turn his head back and look at me. I had to adjust the positions. He would look at front and then again, our swagger. I left him at the gate always after our trysts. He would stand there until I reached the corner roundabout my house. Then he used to even look both sides and crossed the road. Not many do. I noticed in the photo shoot while I posed with his siblings. He was lying near my feet through all time. I don’t know if it was just hormones but I felt loved with him. He was well behaved, silently intellectual and handsome. My heart was away from me. Near him. He became the reason of my smile, the reason why love songs came up in my recently played list. The reason of my wholesomeness. It did not feel like extraneous space had to be culled for him. It felt like he was meant to be there in my life and I only had to clean the dust on the seat culminated for 16 years and let him cuddle there. I was upset every time I did not find him at home. I returned back with a morose mood. It wouldn’t really recover until next time I would bring him to feed milk. And yes, he had the most turbulent tongue I have ever seen. I deemed myself lucky although I couldn’t do anything about that, that I knew. The most upset moment which turned me morose but didn’t get the chance of redemption was when I couldn’t find him for 3 days and then when I found him, he didn’t come to me at all… his countenance foretold something wrong was sure to happen. I let him be. I was watching a movie. On a spur of a moment, a knock on my door and the news that he was dead. I was not to believe it until my very hands touched his cold body kissed by death. I went. I didn’t cry. I saw him lying there. I touched him. Cold. Hard. Immobile. No look from his beautiful eyes. They were closed. Forever.

I had this feeling in me I never felt before. I previously have lost dear ones. But to see a beloved’s dead body right in front of your eyes defies the laws of heat transfer. The cold dead body makes you cold, heartless to any other thing. Warmth and intensity suppressed feet beneath. Our love life though ephemeral can be told and retold by me. Only the strange feeling after his death stands inexplicable.

Thank you if you read all along. Let us pray for a peaceful afterlife of Dalmou, the totem of true love in Namrata’s life.

© 2014 Namrata

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Stonz P.

I never had pets, except the fish, but they don't communicate much; my mum takes care of everything in and about the aquarium and also when they die, it kills me even though I've never been like a good master to them. This piece is so raw, it is almost innocent.. loved every word..

And another one for them feels harboured deep within:

http://img-9gag-lol.9cache.com/photo/86809_700b.jpg