an old story rediscovered

Written in 2005, found again in 2009. Based on the following poem by Robert Frost:

The Telephone by Robert Frost
When I was just as far as I could walk
From here to-day,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head against a flower
I heard you talk.
Don't say I didn't, for I heard you say--
You spoke from that flower on the window sill-
Do you remember what it was you said?'

'First tell me what it was you thought you heard.'

'Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned my head
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word--
What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say--
Someone said "Come" -- I heard it as I bowed.'

'I may have thought as much, but not aloud.'

"Well, so I came.'
-----------

He saw her before she saw him. She was sitting on the light brown wooden bench; alone with a sense of quietness about her. He walked towards her slowly. He had a premonition, even before he entered the park that she would be there. Why, he did not know. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her for over five years. He hadn’t felt her for an eternity.

He stood a few yards away from her, a little towards her left. He looked at her profile, searching his memory for any stored images of her in his mind which might have altered with time. Either both of them hadn’t changed or both had altered so entirely, that even pinpointing the change was impossible. Where to start? Now as he looked at her it seemed she was exactly like he had imagined she would be. A little older, a little plump, a little sad. A little of herself. More of the world.

He went and sat down beside her. Sensing his presence she didn’t turn her head but kept looking straight with a far away glint in her eyes; of someone who was so used to definite vertical interruptions in her vision that when the opportunity arose, could ignore everything in her immediate surrounding, enchanted by the distance, feasting on the decreased magnitude of regular objects.

He followed her gaze.

There was the walking trek; beyond the rose bushes, beyond the children’s play area, in distance. People passed quickly from right to left, left to right, visible only for a few moments before the line of trees that flanked the path hid them from view. Some walked brusquely, some jogged. None walked in leisure. Got to bring up the heart rate. A girl passed by through the shady window. A teenager jogged in behind her. For a second it seemed as if he was running after her.

Miss!... Miss!
Clad in black jump suit he ran after the two girls. One of them half turned but seeing a boy of perhaps nineteen, turned back. She said something to her companion. Their pace increased.
Miss!!! He caught up with them. Listen you dropped your watch!

The one clad in spring colours looked at her wrist. How the…!

Here you go.

Spring colours flashed at him. Thank you. I didn’t realize I had dropped it. Where did you find it?
A few hundred yards back.

Oh! She looked down again at her wrist as if it could provide some explanation to such unusual occurrence.

Youthful uncertainty made all three hesitate rather than just turn and walk their separate ways. They all looked at each other uncomfortably. After what seemed like ten minutes, but were probably a few seconds, he finally made an attempt at conversing, you both come here often?
She was eighteen, he was twenty one.

“How’s your friend� he broke the silence. He winced instantly. What a way to start the conversation after five years.

But she knew instinctively who he meant. “She finally stopped at four kids,� she shrugged not looking at him. “At last she realized she could hardly find time to breathe properly.�

Raima is getting married. She laughed. She says she can’t wait another year to finish her BA. Besides who needs a degree anyway? The important thing is that you learn what is taught. After all your children aren’t going to demand a degree of your qualifications for their upbringing.

He looked across the table. Maybe they should…

You talk such nonsense. She laughed again. My mother always says when a girl bears a child she instinctively knows how to take care of it. God gave that gift in the woman’s genes. Look at Raima. She can’t wait to have a husband and children of her own whom she can spoil and scold.

And you?

Oh what nonsense. She waved a hand as she turned her head a little to glance at the room.

Why? Don’t you want the same thing?

Obviously. She shrugged. That is what every woman wants. Mother says a woman is incomplete without a family of her own.

“You still jog here every day?� she asked.
“Not every day. But usually I come here three times a week.�

Pause

“The place hasn’t changed much has it�, she looked around.
“I haven’t noticed� he replied quietly.

Another pause

“Very busy… you must be�, she sounded tired.
“Quite�.

It had been over two weeks since he had seen her. They talked every other day on the phone. They were the days of pre-mobile-phone revolution so they set up a time in the afternoon when she knew her mother would be taking a nap. Their conversations never crossed the twenty minute mark. But it was enough for both of them. A thirst quenched in ten odd minutes, parched throats rendered deliciously wet.

He could not get his mind around her physical absence; his being craved for her to be by his side. He ached to hold her hand furtively as they walked through the empty patches of the park, maybe steal a quick kiss if they felt especially impulsive. Both shared the feeling that the strongest bond between them, above all physical, emotional desire, was their soulful unity. They talked to each other incessantly. She was a homely girl who still believed in her mother’s wisdom, calling all that held the potential to bewilder her, “nonsense�. He was the offspring of a bureaucrat and a part-time writer. The world was an immense multi-layered puzzle for him, on which he thrived.

On the intellectual level they hadn’t shared anything initially. But their connection lay on a different, slightly egoist level. She had a spark in her which he saw the possibility of being turned in fire. She absorbed all he talked about, immersing herself in his words and in the thoughts, philosophies and ideologies that they carried. Where on one side, the male egotist in him was satisfied by having a starry-eyed priestess at his alter of wisdom, on the other side he truly enjoyed talking to her. Initially it her been her divinely cute reactions to his half-hearted attempts at discussing issues that concerned him that, arrested him, even kept him awake till late night. But soon she started to respond to him, initially accepting all he gave her silently and then, as she found her sure footing, starting to counter his arguments with hers. He started relishing their arguments. It thrilled him to no end at seeing her blooming in an independent thinker.

They had known each other for three years now

“How have you been?� he asked her as if enquiring after the weather.
“I’ve been good�, she replied simply. “Nothing to complain about.�
He grimaced. The past six years of his life had been of silent agony; bearing the guilt of his irresponsibility.
“What do you….� he faltered.
“I work at a house-wife home. I take cooking and sewing classes.� She responded casually as if he had finished his sentence. His heart skipped a beat. She could still feel his thoughts.
“What of your husband?�

Pause

“What of him?�
“I heard you married in a very rigid family. He lets you work?�

She was standing in the corridor, near the exit. His heart starting beating wildly. How could he explain his actions? His first reaction was to pretend he didn’t see her. But at that instant, their eyes met and he lost heart. Her eyes were troubled but her face seemed calm. He approached her.

You haven’t called in a month. There was no accusation in her voice. It just sounded immensely sad. His heart sank in his chest.

I thought you couldn’t meet me. He avoided her question. How did you manage to get out of the house today?

I made an excuse. She brushed off his question. There was much conflict in her to concentrate on giving explanations. I was worried something might have happened. I don’t have your home number that I could call and check. I told you my parents were intent on getting me married. That is why I couldn’t get out of the house. I told you there was a family they especially liked. Why did you disappear? Why did you stop calling?
Her tone echoed of dried tears. Her face retained its passivity les anyone passing by guess her desperation. Did you not realize what was going on? I told you… I told you!

An acute sense of dread spread through his body. He shivered slightly as he looked down at her. Somehow, before she had said anything, he knew what had happened. She had told him what was going on in her home. He knew her parents were insistent on getting her married off. His parents on the other hand were adamant that he did not broach the subject till he finished his house-job. The whole conflict which had been going on for weeks finally went to his head. Unable to cope with the pressure he had stepped back to clear his own perspective. It had not meant there was any doubt in his mind towards her, he knew that much, but he had reacted strangely even in his own eyes. The prospect of her marrying someone else appalled him. It gripped his heart in a metallic wrench tightening gradually the more he thought about it. But it had seemed like time was running out. And his first instinct had been to run away before it did though in his heart he had known he could not run away. He did not want to…

All these thoughts flashed in his mind in a second as he stared at her. Oh God I’ve been such an idiot! He whispered. Has it happened?
She didn’t say anything.
Oh God! His mind reeled. One year. I need one more year. You know how it is with my parents… I know I missed out; I know I screwed things up. But it can’t come to this. Can’t you stall it for one year? Just one year?

A coldness flashed in her eyes. You will not break it to your parents before you start your job, yet you expect me to stall them without a good reason?
She didn’t say it, but he heard her loudly.
Coward.

She turned and walked away; slowly but resolutely. She looked as if she was trying to put in as much distance between them as she could; stretching the chord that bound them together to its limit.

“Your husband lets you work?�
“I don’t live with my in-laws anymore.� She spoke in a low voice. “My husband died six months after our wedding… in an accident. I came home and have lived with my parents ever since.�

He glanced at her quickly startled by unexpectancy of the news. His heart ached at her sight. They had been alone for five years, away from the other; each mutely living in his separate cocoon, passing through the static presence of time. She turned and looked in his eyes and they both stopped. Everything that was in motion around them stopped. The birds went silent. The children playing near the swings sat down quietly. The radio on the tea-stall stopped blaring songs.
There was an hour
All still.

Then she spoke softly, “why did you call?�

He looked at her face, her hair, her being. He knew she wasn’t wondering why he called. It felt now there was never a question of that. It was inevitable that one day he would call her. But what of that particular day, that particular hour? He had no answer. After years of desolation he had picked up the phone one evening and dialed her parents’ number. No thought had crossed his mind. No logic of her not living there any longer had presented itself. It was like how in extreme winter your hands are instinctively drawn out to feel the heat as soon as you see a fire; or how a couple hold each other in their arms after moments of extreme intimacy; a gesture that comes from the heart, with little thought behind it.

Someone had picked up the phone, but hadn’t spoken. He had been paralyzed into the silence that echoed from the other end. Everything had stood still as it did now. He had not been able to speak.

“I heard you� she looked down at her hands. His heart skipped a beat.

“What did I say?� he asked breathlessly.

She smiled slightly, “You called my name… I heard you say ‘come’.�

This was one of the things that he missed the most in her absence. Even from the first month they had known each other, she had had an uncanny way of understanding him; laughing hysterically at his half told jokes that were left incomplete amidst bouts of laughter; or if he was anguished or depressed, stroking his arm silently, smoothing the edges of his tormented sensibility.

“I may have thought as much, but not aloud.�

He reached out and put his hand on hers. It was as warm as he remembered it. It fitted in his hand as perfectly as years ago. But it had become a little coarse bearing testament to her struggle through the fabric of time. She looked up. Her soul greeted him and it felt as if together they surged in union.

She looked at him with a far away glint in her eyes, ‘“Well, so I came.�