T
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here is no sun in today’s sky, just the
clumps of clouds; not those black monsoon clouds bringing heavy rain but the
ashen, gloomy winter clouds. The day is lifeless & quiet; not the peaceful
quiet but the tormenting quiet, dreadfully quiet or so it seemed. Icy breeze
blowing now and then is making the day colder and with leafless trees all
around, gray. She was there, standing by her window, still, like a mannequin. Her
long golden hair wasn’t brushed for days, her slender fingers were knotted, her
bony figure was just as stiff, the long dress had failed to drape her
protruding skeleton, her lips were parched with dehydration and her insomniac
blue eyes were gazing into the distant horizon of nothingness. Her pallid face
was not giving away anything about the thoughts she was having inside her head
or the feelings she had in her heart. Her face didn’t illustrate emotions of
any kind at all.
It has been days since she had locked herself
up in her room. She had kept herself away from the world and its people. She
was once the girl who abhorred the thought of forlorn and kept herself
surrounded with people. But recently the only friend she has is her solitude
and for some reasons she didn’t find it morose instead she now, in a way,
enjoyed it. It was today that she had drawn the curtains of her window open
after a long time and let the dull daylight enter. She never liked the darkness
yet she found the comfort and an ease in the darkness for now she had made
peace with it.
She was looking into the outer world after a
long time yet she found nothing to feel happy about, nothing to smile at and
nothing to get excited about. She couldn’t remember the last time she had
smiled or felt the joy and happiness about something. After a while she inhaled
and exhaled, slow but elongated breathe. She returned to her bed, sat on the
edge, looking down at her skinny fingers which were still knotted. She had left
the curtains still open, forgot to draw them close or left them open
deliberately that only she knows. She sat there, in the same manner for some
more minutes, and then she rose, opened the door and left her room.
Minutes passed, then hours. The world was
slowly being engulfed with the darkness of the moon less night and so was her
room. It was getting colder. Suddenly the room was alighted; somebody had
turned on the light. It was her. She was back. Looking so different than when
she left. She had showered, changed and went out to get the groceries. She was
in her room with her black mug of steaming coffee. She settled her mug on the
side table and reached for her notebook and favorite pen on the study table
which had been lying there for days, untouched and covered with thin layer of dust.
She opened both, her notebook and pen, took a sip of coffee and started writing,
‘There was no sun in today’s sky …