The Hands Of Fate

Alvira sat for a long time on the park bench, looking at the families enjoying themselves on Saturday afternoon. There were picnic baskets on spread out mats, colorful balls and Frisbees, children laughing, little baby girls in cute puffy frocks, concerned mothers calling out to children to stay safe. She smiled at the happy chaos. She smiled at the dogs fetching balls and at the babies crawling around in their diapers and hair bows.
 
When the first family that packed up and left glanced at her, she smiled a goodbye. Soon all the families left and the bright yellow afternoon turned into a golden orange evening. The evening air felt fresh, cool and crisp with the hint of distant spices. It turned soon to a reddish dusk, and then to a purplish night, turned greyish blue by the street lamps, around which insects with transparent wings had begun fluttering. Alvira got up and buried her hands into the pockets of her trench coat. She attracted no attention, a solitary figure, trying to take up as little space in the world as possible by hunching her shoulders, and bowing her head as she walked.
 
She stood on the pavement, waiting for the light to change to cross the street. Suddenly, her mind was assaulted by that image again – Navneet, briefly turning around to wave to her, when a drunk driver rushed in from the wrong side and hit him. The car had sped off without stopping. He had been caught, but Navneet – Navneet did not survive.
 
Alvira was twenty three and a widow. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get that image out of her mind. Every time she slept, she saw the car hitting him. Loneliness and grief drilled into her very last cell. She found no distractions she could immerse herself into.
 
Then finally, one Saturday, she went to the park – to look at the happiness around her, to look at happy families, at children, and picnic lunches. She walked back, crossed the road when the light turned, despite remembering Navneet again – had she ever really forgotten him, even for an instant?
She reached home and carefully locked and bolted every window and every door. She wiped the bit of dust that had collected on the kitchen platform, and threw out the milk that had been lying in the fridge. Then she went to the bedroom, and slowly withdrew from her trench coat pocket, a bottle she had clutched as she walked back home. A bottle of strong sleeping pills. She gulped them all down with water.
 
She never woke up.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

 

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28 thoughts on “The Hands Of Fate

  1. Whatsup Guy August 9, 2015 / 9:20 AM

    This wasn't right. Just not right. Suicide is never the answer.

    Like

  2. Sreesha Divakaran August 10, 2015 / 5:13 AM

    It isn't. She just felt completely lonely and hopeless. There was no one to talk her out of it either.

    Like

  3. Whatsup Guy August 10, 2015 / 5:27 AM

    Actually if you just google for suicide there is help available!

    Like

  4. Ls August 10, 2015 / 5:29 AM

    The story is well-written. It is so sad though. And would have loved if she could have come out of the depression. And when I read in the last para on her seeing happiness everywhere, I knew what was coming. Maybe, she shouldnt have been living alone.

    Like

  5. Soumya August 10, 2015 / 7:26 AM

    Oh how I wish it had not ended this way. But then again, there could be no other ending to this story.

    Like

  6. Sreesha Divakaran August 10, 2015 / 7:55 AM

    She shouldn't have been. But circumstances…
    I wish she had come out of it too, but sometimes, there's no will to go on.

    Like

  7. Sreesha Divakaran August 10, 2015 / 7:57 AM

    Actually, I did have an alternative ending in mind too. But for the purposes of this blog post, I let it be. Maybe I'll write a longer version and publish it elsewhere.

    Like

  8. theteacerebration August 10, 2015 / 8:20 AM

    This is strong and emotional! And that ending! :O
    Congrats on the WOW 🙂

    Like

  9. Viyoma August 10, 2015 / 9:04 AM

    Sad. Speaking her mind to someone- might have helped..may be…

    Like

  10. Rajlakshmi August 10, 2015 / 12:47 PM

    that's heartbreaking!!! getting over death is painful … some scars not even time can heal. Touching write.

    Like

  11. Geets August 10, 2015 / 1:24 PM

    That's sad.. she was just 23.. Emotional trauma does take a toll.. but like this.. it's not happening..!!!

    Like

  12. Whatsup Guy August 10, 2015 / 2:44 PM

    Not even – how to commit suicide
    Try it 🙂

    Like

  13. indrani August 27, 2015 / 12:17 PM

    Oh! That was sad! and definitely not the solution.

    Like

    • Sreesha Diva August 27, 2015 / 12:29 PM

      You’re right, Indrani. Sometimes we fail to see what’s right and wrong.

      Like

  14. Somali K Chakrabarti August 27, 2015 / 8:31 PM

    Sad story Sreesha. I hope she had met someone in the park, someone who could talk her out of her depression.

    Like

  15. Anjali Sengar August 28, 2015 / 10:14 AM

    Suicide can never be a solution of any problem.. But some people find it a easy way of escaping from their problem..

    Like

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