The Brave Pedestrian

When the cold steel sliced into my belly, There was no pain, only discomfort. Gazing into her eyes from a kissing distance, I wondered Did they show betrayal, hatred Or did they continue to speak of love? Maybe both. Maybe neither. They spoke a brutal truth: “You are you and I am I... And since you question that, Let your flowing blood answer your questions.” Ah! Blackness came and went. Life ebbed with each heartbeat. Blood in spurts stained her fingers As they held the dagger firmly in place. They were the reason I was still standing. And then came the release And a gentle shove backward Dropped me to the floor, still gazing. We never lost eye-contact Even when my head struck the stair With a crack that rang deep in my nostrils. Kneeling, she took the kerchief from my pocket Deliberately wiped each finger clean And caressed my cheek. I pouted, Mmmwah. A silent flying kiss. She playfully caught it in her hand And...

Our greatest joy in life can leave the biggest hole in our hearts, she reflected, standing before the mirror, studying the way her saree now draped around her. It looked good. To an outsider, it would look perfect. It would look as though nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Oh God, how rapidly everything had changed! Ten months? No, less! Far less. Tears welled up in her eyes. She wept for herself. And then she wept for her husband. Sobbing softly, she wept for them both. Just a few weeks had elapsed since she had first felt those lumps near her armpit, while soaping herself in the bathroom. Concerned, she had called her husband in. He had stepped into the wet bathroom, grinning. “So, you want me to help you soap yourself, huh? With pleasure, darling, with pleasure!” Suppressing the anxiety that was already gnawing at the pit of her stomach, she had handed him the bar of soap, and allowed him to soap her breasts, closing her eyes. It never ceased to amaze h...