12th August 2015
Exactly a month ago, on July 12th, we were on the same road – G & I – where he met with the accident. We were headed to a family reunion that was happening for the first time on this scale. As we made our way to the resort, we stopped for tea. It was a beautiful drive.
As he ordered tea and a masala omelette at the decrepit tea stall we had the following conversation:
G: Baby, You’ve never been to H via this route right?
G: I’ll take you one day, it’s a beautiful road, even better than the route we normally take
Me: Ok, is it longer?
G: <laughs> we’ll see
Today, a month later I am sitting in this ambulance with his cold body strapped to the seat, and hurtling down the same road. He promised me he’ll take me on this trip, and he has. Just that now I have no interest in the scenery. The only thing I want to see is his face.
I want to keep my face near his, to cuddle with him on the seat for one last time. But the seats are arranged so that I can only keep my hand on his body, even if I twist myself. I can’t climb next to him, there are other people in the vehicle. So I just sit and look at him. I’m terribly motion sick and could never sit on the back seat of a moving vehicle. Today, the nauseous sensation doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but the fact that he’s gone.
Time files and we are already at H, and the ambulance is backing away in to the compound of the family house there. There’s no time now, as soon as they take him down they’ll take him for cremation. I just have a chance to whisper “I love u” and kiss his cold forehead, before the ambulance stops and people take over. I’ve covered his face again. I had his favorite lipstick in my bag, he loved to have a mark of it on him and I had packed it to cheer him up in the hospital. I thought I’d leave a mark now. But somehow I didn’t.
There are people lining up from the road to the house, so many people. His friends have flown in to see him one last time. And as I get down, there is a sound of wailing coming from the house.