Home » Art of Story Telling, Fictitiously Yours

My World…

17 September 2014 No Comment

She looked around. There was no one. She took a long breath, got out of her bed and proceeded to the washroom. As she looked at herself in the mirror this morning, a weary, hapless face stared back at her. The color had vanished, giving way to a pale complexion. Her hair was ruffled and eyes seemed to demand more sleep. Not because they were tired, but because they wanted to see what they wanted to, not the reality. As she splashed her face with cold water numerous thoughts ran through her mind. What now? How? Where to start from? Should I call…. And then the water stopped flowing. There was apparently water cut that day, which she didn’t know about. ‘Darn this!!’, she muttered and headed to the kitchen. As she walked through her bedroom and living room to the dining area, she sensed a feeling of alienation sink in. She was suddenly a stranger in her own house. Walls looked familiar, but only as familiar as a mannequin who wore the clothes after she designed them. The mannequin was not her own, the clothes were. She proceeded to make a cup of coffee for herself, mentally making a list of to-do things

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for that day. Meet the Investigator at 11, visit the Insurance Office at 1, Lunch with her agent at 2, back to office by 4. Post a warm cup of coffee, she got ready to leave. It was 10.45 am when she reached the investigator’s office. She attended all her appointments as per the schedule and returned to office at 4.15 in the evening. It had been more than a month that she was following a similar routine. Investigations Bureau, Agent Meet, Office and back home.

Stress was becoming visible in everything she did. In the last 33 years of her life, Nina had not been through anything like this before. She was a go-getter. And her motto in life was crisp – If have to, then have to. So much that she didn’t even spare herself of her wrath in case she missed a deadline, a brief, an order or an appointment.

Everything was pretty much in place for Nina. Professionally and personally. Personally, Nina and Andrew were together for the past 8 years. And although she thoroughly enjoyed and cherished motherhood, marriage was not her cup of tea. And today, she had been thinking – If only Andrew and I were married….

The funeral was scheduled for Thursday. Andrew was in Austria, attending a seminar and the earliest he could get to Los Angeles was Wednesday evening. Just a day more and he would be here, Nina thought. Thea was their only child. The seven years old was a bright fun-loving kid who loved to mime and read Disney comics. Ever since she had been introduced to Tinkerbell, she coaxed her parents to enroll her at the local ballet academy. She was ecstatic by the news of a sibling arriving soon and had started ‘designing’ games, herself, for them to play together.

Nina’s was a perfect family; until 20 March 1998, exactly a month ago, when Thea was kidnapped while on her way back home from the academy. About 28 days later, Thea’s captors had strangulated her to death and dumped her body at Nina’s doorstep. Thea’s death was a huge blow to Nina, who was otherwise unaffected throughout the ordeal. Her tough demeanor filtered all emotions that had been playing around in her mind since the day of kidnap. It was only when she finally saw Thea that she broke down. Totally and completely.

It was last night that she had made the decision of her life. She decided to give up her company and her career. She no longer felt the hunger for success. She no longer felt the drive for ambition. Only person who hovered was Andrew. And all she thought about was her home. Suddenly, she wanted to give up everything and warm up to the kitchen fires. She wanted a life; different from the one she had living till date. A life she thought could never imagine living. A life she thought was only for her docile sister. Today, she wanted to live that life henceforth. She wanted to live the mother, the wife and the home-maker she had never thought of living. And most importantly, she wanted to live the emotions that had been trapped within her. All the while she thought Elixir, her company, was all she wanted. But Thea’s death changed it all.

And she remembered all the times that she missed Thea’s special moments. The first time Thea performed on stage –aged 3 years, the first time Thea won a race – aged 4 and a half years, the first time Thea mastered her ballet moves – aged 6 years and came running home to show it to her Ma and Pa and many more such first-times.

She wanted to live those moments and more. And luckily, her unborn child gave her the hope that she definitely could.

She wrapped her work by 6 in the evening that day and drove to Thea’s ballet academy. She informed them about Thea and requested them to stage a ballet performance post the funeral.

She went about inviting Thea’s school mates for the performance and headed straight to the bakery to order Thea’s favorite Dutch Truffle. After coming home, the feeling of emptiness came back. She struggled to hold herself together.

Nina went up to her bedroom and opened all the curtains to let the fresh air blow in. Still, she wasn’t able to get over with her suffocation. She could feel the excruciating pang of pain through the left side of her chest. She ran down to lawns, hoping to feel better… But it only got worse. Finally, she let herself go, and cried. Cried her heart out.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep on the lawn but she sensed that it was the best sleep of her life. One which brought Thea to her. And one which brought her dream world to her – Andrew, Thea, Nina and their unborn child – all together, on the same lawn, living life as she wanted to. In her world.

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