‘Life was easy. We laughed, we fought, we teased, we kissed, we sang, we danced, and, and we were together. Perfectly together.’
‘Then?’ she asked.
‘And then, two months back, her brother called me in the middle of the afternoon and said, “Bhaiya… didi died in a road accident.”’
‘What?’ she exclaimed.
‘Yes.’ I said. ‘That’s all he said on the call as if he was reading it from a script. Plain and simple. He said it as it was something that happens every day. And later, when I tried to connect him again, his mobile was switched off.’
‘But… but what about her cell? Did you try to call her, too?’
‘I did. The recorded female voice was parroting again and again that the mobile’s switched off but I wanted her to change her statement. I wanted the phone to ring. I wanted that phone to ring for the last goddamn time.’
‘And then, I opened my Whatsapp and I was shocked. It was her messages. Five long messages.’ I said. ’It wasn’t an accident, e eeit was… it was a suicide,’ and I broke down.
‘Hey,’ she said and placed her hand gently on my right ankle to assure me that she was there. I cried my lungs out like it was the end of this world. Like nothing else mattered for the time being. Like my wailing would cast a spell and bring my girl back somehow.
But it didn’t.
She was gone.
What was left, was just a question that she had left in my inbox, her last message;
“I never allowed you to enter inside me and you were okay with that. You never asked me why. Today, with this final message, I want to tell you why. I was raped. Day after day after day. By my father. Real father. Remember? You always told me that ‘this too shall pass’. But baby, this didn’t pass, this ended. With me. Taking me away.”
~ Sahil Lakhmani