It was the day we met, the day she died. She seemed perfect in
all ways. Her influences seemed to have its heart in the right
place. And then I felt happy she couldn’t see .Because seeing is
believing and I believe we wouldn’t have met otherwise.
I am what you call ugly, and I don’t implore you to see
otherwise. What’s the point. But then I was forced to see things
in a new light ,one day. The day we met.
She splashed across the drain under the water clogged
streets. It was july. Laughing and looking up at the smoggy ,
grey skies. She turned to face me and I realised she couldn’t
see. She didn’t recoil. not once
She faced the black with a smile. She came forward and tried to
touch my face. I stopped her. I tried to let go but couldn’t.
There was too much electricity.
Caustic drops splattered around us in the by-lanes of Thane
district. Nothing felt more royal. It was like velvet. The moment
between us. Her face was suddenly exotic. Like a princess waking
up to fresh flowers.
I felt ashamed of myself. Every moment with her reminded me of
what I was. I grew smaller by the moment. Until I was so
miniscule i couldn’t bear it. I let go. I wanted her to run with
I wanted to take care of her. Rediscover our world .
A whistle besides my ear deafened me , as I woke up to
shattering windows and mortar around me. They had come .The
cops. To hunt me down. The last of my gang. The last of my kind.
I make a dash for it. I promise her a return under my
breath. She seemed to have heard it . She smiles . Do I see a nod? I think
I do. I run and two more appear in front. They open their
barrels. Screams explode. As does my left arm. I fall down while
trying to keep myself up. and I see nothing. I couldn’t see
her. Is this what they call blindness. I don’t really want to
know. And then I spot her. Floating above the very drain she
leaped over, to reach me. A trail of red took her away. Her eyes closed.
They place a gun in my hand. I don’t resist
They charge me with a fresh count of murder . I don’t deny.
Death sentence is all they can provide. I accept
The only thing I do, is remember , the promise I made .In my own ,very first, velvet
By Saurabh Arora