If Only...

X sat by the window staring into the vast nothingness that engulfed her, bit by bit. The blankness of her mind reflected on her face. She was lost. Without a trace.

Ever since she started working in this big city, this was all she wanted. Her dream house. A 2BHK in one of the most elite areas of the busy city of Calcutta. She ensured that it was designed by one of the top architects of Pune – her hometown. And what a commendable job had he done. Anyone and everyone visiting her place complimented her on her taste and selection. Little wonder she had the “nazar battu” hanging upside down on the door to keep the evil eye at bay.

The living room was spotless and clutter-free, with just a big blue sofa and the big screen LCD. The smart use of sea blue, yellow, beige and a bit of brown gave the living room a very contemporary feel. The open kitchen gave her ample of space to move around and definitely easy access to the living room, the bar area and the balcony. The balcony was amongst her favourite places to relax. The bean bags put out in the open, with a small coffee table to hold her coffee mugs, made it the perfect corner for her “me time” after work.

Being the PR head of a national level agency really was taxing. The clients sometimes chewed her brain inside-out over matters that were so trivial and silly that she needed more than her usual two coffee breaks in office. But honestly the coffee there wasn’t up to her taste. She preferred the rich black taste of the finely ground Davidoff Coffee she especially got from Singapore. And it wasn’t unusual for her to zoom home in her Honda Civic (her first car) just to enjoy her coffee sometimes in the middle of the day. Yes, she was fast and a bit rash – but never reckless.

Her room was her real abode. The glass door behind the wooden one was etched to maintain privacy. The light green walls weren’t her idea. But now they seemed to clam her the minute she walked in. The astute use of pink, blue and silver all over the study table, dressing table and her huge walk in closet fascinated everyone who peeped in to “check out” her place.

Her bed – a queen sized wooden structure with the softest Sleepwell mattresses embraced her the moment she dropped on it. Her bedside was never empty. Books, pen and a writing pad always adorned the lamp-stand on her left. She wouldn’t fall asleep without reading either a romantic- fiction or a spooky thriller. So she either had absolutely romantic dreams or terrifying nightmares, depending on her selection for the night. More often than not, she’d pen random thoughts which eventually made sense after a couple of drinks.

The dressing table was placed close to her study table; and the study table was right beside the big window. Come to think of it – her room had only three walls. Her “big” window made up for the fourth wall. Her laptop, a Zoo-Zoo pen holder, a calendar (from Channel V featuring her favourite Professor Sodhi) reading today’s date (Monday 13th Dec.), couple of files, and books and a very ornate picture frame with her picture in it, decked the study table.

Her most favourite part in the room (apart from her bed) was the sill of her big window that overlooked the swimming pool of the classic township- Rosewood Estate - which she was now a resident of. She had been very adamant on having this huge a window with an extended ledge where she could relax and sip her coffee and just “not think”. And that’s where she would sit and talk to her angels too. Yes, she believed in them. She believed they would keep her safe and sane in times of distress. The white-green-yellow curtains that hung smartly and usually sashayed with the first touch of the breeze today lay frighteningly still.

Her blankness was disturbed as the key turned in the lock outside.
“It must be Y”, she thought looking towards her bedroom door. Y always came to her room first before walking into hers.
But today she was taking awfully long. Almost ten minutes and no sign of Y.
“Y...I’m in here”, she called out.

But it was another ten minutes before Y walked in. Her short hair crop, fair skin and petite size often lead people to think she was a teenager. But Y was as old as X – 25 and a commercial pilot at that. This was her first year with the airline and after those gruesome training months she was now the First Officer.

X and Y had met through some common friends at a party and hit it off darn well in their first ever interaction. They shared almost the same taste in books, drinks, music, lifestyle and men. Naturally, it didn’t take them long to bond. Even their temperaments were similar and their thought processes of the same frequency and wave-length. And before one could say “Jack Robinson” Y had agreed to share a place with X. Her roster kept her busy flying and away from home for about three or four days a week but when she was home – it was usually spent resting, reading and waiting for X so that they could (occasionally) paint the town red, pink and florescent with their wild parties and shopping sprees and dining and catching up with other friends. And if they were low on energies, a whole Sunday at their favourite spa was enough to get them rejuvenated.

Y was wearing a “little black dress”, her glares resting on her head, and the dark circles around her sullen teary eyes hinted smudged mascara and kohl. She looked definitely pale walking lifeless with a folded newspaper in her right hand. It appeared as if she was hesitating to step into the room, and the moment she reached the threshold, she couldn’t hold back her tears. She sat on the bed and buried her face in her palms. The newspaper was now by her side.

X just looked at her. Somehow she couldn’t gather enough energy to even walk those five steps towards the bed to be by her side.
“What happened bebo?” X asked. Her tone expressed concern.
Y was still crying.
“Let me make some strong coffee for you...” said X as she now sat facing Y, almost about to get up.

“Why did you do it? Why? It was just an argument…” cried Y.
X couldn’t take it anymore. “What the hell is wrong with you? Well if you want me to apologise for last night – I’m sorry...I was outta my mind…” said X turning her gaze to the pool below the window ledge.

Without a word, Y removed a bright pink envelope that was hidden inside the newspaper and walked up to the study table. She wiped her tears, picked up the picture frame, and kissed it.
“If only....”
Y was too choked to complete her sentence. She put it back on the table and placed the pink envelope right next to it.

“Ab yeh kya...?” asked X turned and reached out for the pink unaddressed envelope.

She opened it. It was the wedding invitation card they both were waiting for.
“Is this ours? When and where did you get it?” asked X as she looked towards the quiet figure of Y who was now standing by the bed – with the newspaper in her hand.


X quickly opened the card to read its contents.
The invite read:

Because you have shared in our lives
your friendship and love, we
X and Y
invite you to share the beginning of our new life together
when we exchange our marriage vows
on
Saturday, 18th December
at
Eleven in the morning
at Roohi Villa, 10 WestSide Street, Calcutta.


X smiled with the wave of happiness that rose within her, as she read the golden inked words and she looked towards Y, who now looked absorbed in a newspaper article, with her tears still flowing uncontrollably. X placed the envelope back on the table and walked towards Y to halt right behind her. And before X could decipher anything she chanced to look at the dressing table mirror on her left.

All she could see was the reflection of Y, crying as she held the newspaper. She turned her gaze to the newspaper article Y was reading...

“Rosewood Estate resident dies as car spins out of control
In a tragic accident last night, X Kapoor of Rosewood Estate lost her life. It is believed that her car (Honda civic – 9119) spun out of control and collided with the divider on WestSide Street, and over-turned to hit the pavement killing Kapoor instantly. She was the PR head of a leading advertising agency of the city.”