Rohil stood staring at Aarohi, at the cold expression in her eyes. The door between them closed.
Things were not always towards the darker end.
Rohil and Aarohi had their first interaction on a website for selling second hand goods including furniture, electronics, vehicles, etc. Aarohi was looking for a second-hand recliner chair and Rohil happened to be selling one and thus the sale happened.
One day Rohil’s phone rang.
“I am sorry to call you like this.. I know it is not your problem now, but I was hoping if you could help me out regarding the chair,” said Aarohi
“Sure, what is the problem?” asked Rohil who was on the bus on his way to work.
“The footrest.. it’s not extending as it used to initially. Do you know anyone who can make the repair?” replied Aarohi
Rohil maintained the two recliner chairs himself. After his brother moved to another city for work, Rohil decided to sell one chair which was occupying a lot of space for no apparent reason.
“The person who maintained my chairs is not in the city at the moment. I will let you know if I can find anyone else”
“All right, thank you” were the last words of the phone call
That evening Rohil sat online and found everyone charging quite a high amount for the work. For a reason which Rohil couldn’t justify later, he went to get the job done himself and he repaired the footrest extension mechanism.
“How much for the repair?” asked Aarohi
“Oh.. you don’t have to give anything..” said Rohil
“Why? Did Rohil ask you not to charge me any money?” asked Aarohi
“Actually.. I am Rohil..”
A friendly conversation pursued from there on, which bloomed into a beautiful relationship of five years.
“When are you both getting married?” asked Rohil’s colleague
Rohil was a head machine operator in a textile factory.
“Married..” Rohil uttered as he recalled all those moments, he had wanted to talk to Aarohi about it but did not, with the fear of ruining what they had between them.
“Maybe I will do it on my birthday,” said Rohil after thinking of a suitable time to do it
A few days later Aarohi sat watching television, the fire which was being shown reflected on her eyes.
It was a news channel. The fire that had broken out at the textile factory had claimed the lives of four and had injured twenty people. Among the four was the one Aarohi had grown to know very closely in the past five years.
Now all Rohil could do was stand in front of the door of Aarohi’s apartment, never entering it but waiting for her to open the door so that he could see her getting better in a world without him and when it would happen he could disappear forever into the air.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
The Feelings that Echoed
Early Morning Memories 