Aakash walked into the house and automatically picked up his mail. A familiar handwriting caught his eyes, since Office had come into existence very seldom would one find a handwritten letter. As he began to slit open the envelope, his wife Ranjitha walked in carrying two cups of black coffee. ‘Hey honey, how was your day’, she asked, as she placed the two cups of coffee besides a plate of croissant and a vase of orchids. Aakash’s mind was was preoccupied. ‘Just the usual’, mumbled Aakash. He took his mail and the cup of coffee along with him and entered his study. Half an hour later he was standing near the French window tears in his eyes. The letter began like a conversation, no greetings, just words………..

We had spent a large part of our childhood and teenage years together. It amazes me that we never actually dated, but we did have a few intimate moments that left us a bit “giddy” and “blushed”. I remember the time you proposed in true filmy style with a hibiscus in hand and the clichéd words “Will you be mine”, it was tacky but I fell for it and do so every time I think about it. You need to know what happened that July day. Some things cannot be left half way it has to be finished. HE forced himself on me on that fateful day when there were celebrations going on in your house, a ‘family get together’ you told me, and I had to be there to represent US for you were out travelling, but it was more of a ‘gossiping get together’. Everyone was on the terrace, I came downstairs for some fresh air and peace of mind to free myself from all the gossips and back biting I was subjected to. HE made his way into the house on the pretext of using the bathroom, HE was not alone two of his friends accompanied him, all intoxicated and stoned. I was just being nice since I was in HIS house otherwise the very mention of his name disgusted me. HE and his friends forced themselves on me, taking advantage of my being alone and scared. They held my arms and took my clothes off; I told them to stop plenty of times and tried to push them away. I did all I could do with the power that I had at that point of time. I scream, scratched and pushed them but they were so extremely strong and it did not seem to make any sense to keep trying. I was worn out and tired. They were all over me and I had completely given up. I just stopped. It felt like an outer-body experience. It seemed as if I stepped out of my body and was watching them violate me, not able to do anything about it. All I was thinking was that they could take my body, but I would not let them take my soul! I did not feel a thing. When they were done they just left leaving me there wounded and crying. I passed out instantly. When I got up I got dressed and left for the police station where I made my statement. All the procedures and medical help took really long and by the time it was all done it was four in the morning. I was extremely tired and hungry I just fell off to sleep.

On waking up the next day all the cards had been turned in my direction, I was the slut and the story teller. One can do wonders when they have power and money, and that is what happened, the victim turned into the accused. I was alone, scared and miserable I tried calling you several times only to receive a sms from you which said that you didn’t want to stay in touch after all. Such is life ……………

You must be thinking why now when I had been silent for six long years. Do you know what makes me write to you today? I need to say good bye to you, after having spent six years with your ghost that has walked, slept, eaten and lived between my husband and me. I have come to realize that your intrusive presence has been there because I don’t want to let go of you. It took me an excruciating six years to individually erase every single memory I had of you. Every touch of your hand, the way you looked at me, your smile, your sense of humor, you sitting pressed up against me in the rickshaw. Those were my moments of hell after you left.

The past with you worries me, I can’t be dragged back into time. I have finally settled down, Good job, great husband. I finally feel successful, you represent failure to me. Failure to be strong enough to accept me in my moments of despair, failure to fight against your family for the unjust done to me. I wanted to be with you, and suddenly all the bitterness has gone away and I want to be with you again. I am no longer in love with you, but I think I still love you. Is that possible? I want to hold you and maybe make you laugh and maybe truly laugh myself for the first time in six years. I love my husband a lot. He has made me a better person. He is handsome and accomplished and we’re quite content. He is the sole reason I am living again and all I want to do is be with you right now.

And the letter ended just like that, disgusted with himself, Aakash scrunched up the letter and threw it in the waste paper basket, and took a sip of the black coffee which was now cold, then he picked up the letter from the waste paper basket, smoothed it out carefully, folded it and inserted it into his wallet.