The weak morning sun filtered into the
sterile hospital room. Muthu massaged his aching neck, working out the kinks. Kuhan
had gone home for a quick shower but Muthu had refused to leave Janaki’s side. Finally
it was just the two of them. Like how it was in the beginning - before the kids,
before responsibilities, before heartaches.
Muthu
took Janaki’s hand, the one without the IV line. Despite her plump fingers, it
felt fragile and dry. He couldn’t remember the last time he held his wife’s
hand. Suddenly the thought of never being able to hold them again, sent pain
piercing through him.
“Don’t
leave me, please Janaki. My jaan.”
Tears dripped on their joined hands but he didn’t care.
Only
the machines replied him: beep beep beep.
She remained beyond his reach.
He
heard the door opening quietly behind him. Must be the nurses making their
rounds, he thought, still gazing miserably at Janaki’s still face.
“Appa.”
Muthu stiffened. It was
a voice he hadn’t heard in three years. A voice he dared not hope to ever hear
again.
~Anya~
~Anya~
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8 comments:
That was brilliant Anya! You should start writing a book pronto, if you haven't already! So much talent xxx
absolutely gripped :) thanks Anya for making me not work and read this :P
Awesome! I wanna know what happens to Kuhan!
takes one to know one eagerly , wakakaka
oh well..cant say a handsome,strong young man like Kuhan wouldnt grab my attention ;)
of course :) and muscled too ;-)
Thank you people! I'm so glad you were entertained :))
entertained?? you mean there's no sequel?? But Kuhann....
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