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The lost poem

The Lost poem...

I wish i shouldn't have postponed...

Neeraja and I met through a marriage broker and had an arranged marriage. I married her when I was 25 and She was 20.. In our first meeting itself, I decided that she is the one I could spend the rest of my life. That day, she was in her pink saree, pale and the jasmine, that she wore on her head filled the room with an alluring fragrance. Without even looking at me, she said yes because her parents were happy with my profile and indeed i was an easy fit for their requirements. My profile was, that of a graduate, assisting my father in his diamond business and was about to take over it as he was going to retire. 

We were one of the most happily married couple.  

Neeraja was not a person who compared her life with anyone and ask for things. She was satisfied with what we had. Life was smooth until the tragic accident. We planned to visit Triupathi to celebrate our 50th marriage anniversary.. During our return,I lost her when a truck hit our vechile. I survived with minimum injury but my wife left, leaving me alone in this world.

The days were not easy to move. Her absence were killing me everyday. Before, my last breath, I wanted to fullfill the last thing she wished for, the bungalow. 

The bungalow is owned by one of the Bollywood celebrities who's living in end of the street. Like a child curiosuly looking at candies, she used to look at it and ask me , "Can we make that one..? Isn’t quite amazing ?". I kept telling her that we could plan soon but not by tomorrow..

Her madness on the bungalow made her to do crazy things which i never thought she will attempt..One such thing she did was sneak into the building with the cook’s help  and work as a servant over there for a day, to see its infrastructure. From there on, every night, she used to endlessly spoke about it.

I said, “Neeraja , we can plan for it.. now sleep.”. But she was no mood to listen and continued going on about the bungalow's beauty and It become regular activity. In-short, it become the bed time story for us..On the first day, i listened and acknowledged, second day,I just heared eventually, I started snoring as soon she said bungalow!!

The bedtime story was not leading Neeraja to the close to the bungalow. So her next weapon was  "cold war". Being husband, "one could win over world-war not wife's cold war.."

The cold war, starts with coffee. The coffee kept on the table with that thud, with that look !! During normal days, after offering coffee, she would wait until I took the first sip because she did not want me to have a cold coffee. Likewise, her arguments were always loud in action with no words. I ignored it for few days..

Then came the next, a powerful and the weirdest weapon is, food strike where only "Upma" would be served for every meal. Eventually, I decided to surprise her after we return from thirupathi as my gift on our anniversary. Wish I had not dragged this far!!

Now the bungalow is ready, but she is not alive. She is just inside me. She could not see the bungalow or live in the bungalow. I wanted her badly to be here in the bungalow for all the fake fights she fought.

Finally I got her..In the same pink saree, looking at me proudly and giving me the million dollar smile for making her dream come true..She in the form of wax statue sitting in my living area!

Note: the story is inspired by a true incident i.e An Industrialist  from Karnataka fullfilled his wife's last wish and got her life -size statue for the house warming ceremony !! He is one step above Emperor Shah Jahan


Saritha Subramanian

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