That Forgotten Paragraph

It is a cold dank day with the sky the color of a soiled mop. The doorbell rings, a car honks at my gate and my phone lets out a shrill loud sound; all simultaneously. I rush to the door, and she literally drags me to the waiting office cab.

It is month-end, so the work and the day never seems to end. We work together all day; she helps me resolve an old pain point and declares I owe her a coffee for this. Her eyes fall on the clock. She gasps and starts gathering up her things and starts for the door.

He does not like that I reach home late every other day, she murmurs. I nod.

The other day she said, he does not like me to apply lipstick. He thinks it attracts other men. One day she said, he has been asking me to quit this job. Another day she said he takes away all my salary and gives me an allowance. Anytime she says such things, all I do is listen and nod. I assume it is a “married woman thing”. I have no opinion and hence no suggestion. She is often moody and impatient, an angry kind of sad or maybe a sad kind of angry. I just assume that is just how she is.

She leaves office and I continue working. I absolutely need to send the closing pack by tomorrow. Hours go by and the office starts thinning. The landline at the reception is ringing. No one bothers to pick it. Then the phone just next to me starts ringing. I pick it up.

She has set herself on fire, says the voice on the phone. She, who I had shared a ride with, she who I sat with just a few hours back, she who I owe a coffee. My brain and tongue freeze over as I sit motionless holding the receiver in my hand.

When I come to my senses, I see quite a few people and catch shreds of conversation. Husband wife problem, kerosene, mother-in-law, neighbour moving fire-ball, hospital, 75% burn, respiratory tract damage, no hope……..

 We go to the hospital. Catch a peek at her- through what seems like a mosquito net. The next morning a friend appears at my door. She’s gone, he says. We go to where they are cremating her, watch the remains of her already charred body go up in flames.

My phone has been ringing for a while. Of course, it is the region office asking for the closing pack. I cannot do it, my heart cries in anguish. I am in shock, let me grieve. Do not abandon your responsibilities, my brain admonishes. The show must go on.

I go back and finish the month- close. And the next month close. And the next. Years roll by life goes on.

And it is on such cold dank days with the sky the color of a soiled mop, when I sit with a cup of steaming coffee, that a spark of memory surfaces. Of a girl I knew eons ago. A girl who I worked with. A girl who I still owe a coffee!