Letters to Zack - 1

Dear Zack,

How are you? is a stupid question to ask someone who has shifted his earthly residence to the heavenly one a few days ago. After all, am a human being - full of follies. Pardon me, dear.

Did you meet Priya's elder brother who has reached there a few weeks ago? Priya tells me that he loves to play around with little fellas like you...

Whom all you met on the way to the Other World, Zack?

How silly of me... You just reached There and you need time to know, understand and familiarise with others. Am demanding info like a news junkie!

By the way, this morning I stepped out at the usual 4 a.m. for the walk. The only differnece was that you weren't there. I told myself that I would keep my emotions under check and will not think about you at all..

I failed miserably. My eyes went to every single lamp post and stationary car wheels - your pee-zone - on the hour long walkathon.

The roadside paper vendors, the ICICI ATM security guard, the half-sleep auto drivers near Mehrauli bus terminus and even the Blue Line bus drivers and cleaners taking bath near Delhi Jal Board is still unaware of your exit from this world.

As in the past, I kept talking all through the route. Instead of verbally roughing up those who have roughed me in the past 24 hours, I was trying to keep engaged in a conversation with you. As usual, sweet nothings.

You never responded in the past. So today was no different. You did not respond. The only difference is that you weren't here. How far away, I don't know.

You will be glad to note that Authorities are relaying the road leading up from T B Hospital to Qutub Minar. The work is still on. Buses that used to be halted there overnight across the Delhi Jal Board are kept on the road leading to Gurgaon.

I again stopped at the Adchini/Saket signal where we usually take a u=turn. And my legs automatically came to a halt at the lamp post where you used to lift your legs to pee -though your bladder is empty by then. Habits die hard, no?

The scantily clad mannequins at Kimaya look through the half-shut Venetian blinds and the security guy outside Karma @ Sabyachi next door is deep asleep. I can hear his snoring.

Daybreak is on. See more morning walkers with walking stick. Paunch belly. Shorts. Canvas shoes. Huffing and puffing. No dogs so far in sight. Again no children yet at the Bus Terminal waiting for their respective school buses with their mum or dad in toe.

I am in control. Unwept so far. As I climb the four storeys to our earthly abode, I feel your absence suddenly. Still am iin control. OPen the door and enter the house. Wife is in the kitching brewing coffee. I walk into the washing room to brush. You always came in to get your feet and mouth washed with the sprinkler. The sprikler is lying there attached to the tap. Eyes well up. I cry loudly, forcing wife to come to console me.

My cup of karela juice is ready. I gulp in two swigs. It does not taste bitter because your death was more bitter. Why have you done this to me, God?