Silence Can Be More Telling
Image by Yusuf Evli from Unsplash
**Contains Trigger: Child Death.**
Tara applied the kohl, tapping gently around the hanging flesh below her eyes and noting the all-too-evident puffiness. Well, she couldn’t do much about that. No amount of makeup would hide it, so she started applying the powder to her nose. She could still make the rest of her face a little more presentable.
She sifted through her collection of Bindis, taking her time before selecting one. All her accessories looked alien to her after so many months of neglect. She looked back at the mirror, adjusting the chosen Bindi a bit to ensure it was in the centre of her brows.
Tara glanced up as her husband Saurabh walked in. His kurta hung loose on his shoulders, yet she felt a surge of pleasure to see him in something other than the old T-shirts again. They locked eyes through the mirror in silence. Their pain deserved silence. Then Tara stood up, ready.
She faltered a bit as they left the room, hesitating, but his firm, warm hand behind her back propelled her forward. They took one step at a time down the staircase of their duplex house — the cold house that used to ring with laughter.
Tara paused and looked at the photos along the staircase wall, feeling the waves of joy and pain crash through her. She allowed herself to look at them afresh, giving in to those feelings after so many days and months of avoiding them.
A small smile played at the corner of her lips as she remembered the time when the imp had hung upside down from a tree. His mouth had opened wide in a toothy grin and they had clicked one “for posterity” before bringing the giggling fellow down.
With a guilty start, Tara looked up at Saurabh, standing silently by her side on the stairs. Then her shoulders relaxed as she saw that he too had a similar smile.
They continued down the steps, their eyes on the wall, each successive photo chronicling their son’s journey until he left to pursue his MS in one of the US Ivy Leagues. They hadn’t had time to frame the photo he’d sent from there, but it hung on the wall all the same. In it, he stood proudly in front of the plaque depicting the college name.
They’d received the news the same night the photo arrived.
A random act, and the case was closed even before the parents in India could wrap their head around the madness. The constant footfall that grief brings along soon petered out, leaving the couple enveloped in blankets of silence that only a bereaved heart that knew no closure could understand.
The two of them drove in silence, stopping at the gate of the house they had frequented so often, so long ago. It seemed to have been in another lifetime. Their boys had brought all of them together, and their community of friends had expanded as they enjoyed holidays, dinners, and other celebrations together.
They took a deep breath. Then, as one in tune with the other, they stepped out of the car and walked towards the door. It flew open as if someone had been watching to see their car arrive. Tara found herself enveloped in a bear hug, with the Cadbury Celebration box she carried squeezed in the middle of it.
Geeta Sharma released her to take a long look at them, then whispered, “Where have you been? Missed you.” She took a breath before she hollered, “Rohan’s parents are here.”
And with that, the heavy mantle of grief was temporarily forgotten. They found themselves once again in the circle of life that had to continue despite everything. They would remain Rohan’s parents with or without him by their side.
Here’s some additional works on grief or healing for you to dwell on.
- Creative Outlets for Pure Joy – Essay on Restful Enjoyment
- Battle of Shades and Tints – Poetry
- Last Night I Walked on the Moon – Fiction
- A Touch to Remember – Poetry
Chandrika R. Krishnan
Chandrika R Krishnan, is a Bengaluru-based writer and educationist, who likes all things beginning with a ‘T’ - talking, teaching, tales, and tea. Her 250+ odd articles, poems, and stories have found a home in both print and online media in the likes of Strands LitShere, Reedsy, Khabar, New Woman, and Good Housekeeping India besides being long-listed in the Australian Writers’ center and short-listed in Strands International Fiction contest. She is a published author, and her collection of flash fiction titled Vignettes: A Slice of Life is available on Amazon along with her other anthologies.
To know more, visit her website, or follow her on Facebook, Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and Linkedin.
1 Comment
Well articulated story