Broken

Silently sipping her coffee, eyes intently glued on her cell phone, she sat there, waiting with her swollen, sullen eyes, full of questions seeking answers. The melancholy had gripped her since quite a long time and today was going to be it. Her hair was untidy, left to fall on her shoulders and seemed to have lost their lustre, like her face. She restlessly shifted in her chair to face the painting of a woman subtly seated in a palanquin, and the memories came back to her, one by one. It was half past seven; she'd wait for a while now. As the time seemed to be fleeting away, her heart raced with every tick the clock made. She pulled out a paper napkin from its holder, put it to her nose and found herself travelling through a trance. As she closed her eyes, a tear slid down the corner of her eye, she pressed the napkin against her nostrils. It seemed like she couldn't get enough of the whiff of the past. She crossed her fingers, and turned to see the time on the clock. She shook by the mere thought that he would not come. Nothing was like it used to be. She just had to imagine his presence, and there he would be showering her with his insatiable smile every time she wanted to see him. It could possibly be her desire that lacked the same willingness to see him or perhaps his attention that she had now failed to attract. The connection had broken. Mentally exhausted, she quickly scribbled a note, and left it fluttering under a tall flower vase at their usual restaurant table. She expected his arrival, if not now, perhaps later. Aditi walked out, observing a sudden change in the atmosphere, the scorching heat biting every bit of her, as she began her search for a Taxi. Fortunately, she found one soon enough to get her back home before anybody figured out that she was out. “Ah, the heat seems to have gripped you.” The taxi driver said. “Yeah. It’s quite… gripping”, Aditi said wiping off the sweat on her forehead with her t-shirt sleeve. Her pounding heart kept reminding her of the situation she was stuck in. It seemed to be playing a little match with her. The thumping of her heart was being constantly accelerated and decelerated, while she sat there thinking about how he’d respond to the unexpected note. She requested the taxi driver to turn off the radio, as she played music on her old, cello taped, brittle phone whose screen occasionally came off. As she listened to broken, she turned to look out the window. Because I’m broken When I’m lonesome And I don’t feel right, When you’re gone away. It was over.