And Then……

It was a clear August morning and the retreating monsoon winds cooed silently after the heavy deluge that continued for two long days. Everything around the man sitting alone in his room was normal, rather would seem normal from distance. He rested his head backwards and his belching broke the somber silence of the apartment. “How foolish have I been??” he smirked and the incidents surged in him as if it was only yesterday……

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“For God’s sake dad, why do you always have to stand against my happiness…?” It was like a whiplash although it came through as a faint murmur.
“But son…”
and he stormed out of the room.

The next two months were like a dream come true except for his parents who have left for his elder brother’s place.

Another loud belch before he closes his eyes and reckons the preceding months in penance.

It was around six months back that he inadvertently had stumbled upon the fact that divulged he had married a licentious woman and the vignettes of her clandestine affairs were only too many.

“How foolish I have been” he concedes, only too sure of obviating all ties with the woman he had once loved more than his life.

For now, it was time to leave for his regiment. He stared at the mirror for some time. “Lieutenant Vikram Sehgal”, he called aloud in a conceited voice and a man of exemplary persona and keen acumen stared back. That was the last time mirror saw of him and the walls heard of him in voluble aplomb!

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It was quiet inside. The ramshackle of the furniture made of cheap oak, that lay sprawling, was the only savior of the lonely abode as most of the purchases had been ousted by the debtors. Even the dull layer of paint seemed to emancipate the walls of the demurred apartment.



One of the desolated corners of the room enjoyed the diadem of its owner’s picture rested on a cheap silver frame lying in laxity where dust reveled accosted by a stale chain of rotten flowers. The picture of a handsome middle-aged man usurped all attention in the dusty frame. A close surveillance would reveal perfectly chiseled features against the pale complextion on the oval face. A pair of deep set eyes rested below the knitted brows spoke of the occupant as a jovial man who loved life whilst the demurred smile shot back in congruence to the array of medals crowning his uniform.
Anybody would have dismissed Lt. Vikram Sehgal as a convivial man, had he ignored the surreptitious and nonchalant smile that occupied most of his expressions. However, to some one who knew Lt. Vikram Sehgal, he was vindictive, but humane.


His wife could hardly resist the freedom her husband’s death bestowed on her. The apartment was hardly visited where the frame laid in solitude……..waiting, until one day.
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There was a sharp noise outside of keys turning, shortly before the door flung open. The room was not as it has been left; it smelt of fresh flowers and incense sticks. The vibrations were different and the trepidation was almost palpable. The figure at the door stood stunned at the spectral arrangement cynosuring the silver frame. While she stood there gawking with consternation, she heard a murmur from behind “Fresh flowers for your husband……!.” Before she could turn around, she heard the door close at her back.