A Few Hours More

I laid there.
Silent.
On my bed with nothing but a drape like thing on my skin.
He was sleeping like an angel, right on the small little bed beside me.
Yet he looked like an angel.
Like a myriad of stars are spread across his face.

I wanted this all my life.
Just lie down somewhere where there is no noise.
Just gaze, wander and worry about nothing.
See him sleep like my daughter slept,
With her face resting on my chest.
Without a crease to see of worry.
And occasionally smiling, like heaven said him the sweet words of love.

But today I see creases on his forehead.
Like wrinkles in the old and obsolete cloth.
Wrinkles of, "She has a few days in her hands."
Wrinkles of, dieing within, 
The twists of not growing old with me.

I want to watch him like this a few hours more.
Even minutes more will do.
The dark patches under his eyes of rubbing my hands and feet for days.
I want to go to him and tell him for one last time,
"That I will love you till the end, and beyond."

I saw my mother coming in, with that same worry she had since I was a kid.
But now, she just patted my forehead.
I could see her lips quivering.
I could see her worrying for him, who has been like a son to her.
I could recall how she forever screamed at me.
And I would protest and scream back.
But now all I want is her to scream at me.
Scream at me, "That how could I be leaving them in maybe a few minutes?"

My sister and father entering,
But now I can't keep my eyes open.
It feels like I am flying to a land unknown.
He has woken up.
All I can hear is the faint sound of him.
A faint touch of kissing me, the very last time.
A faint noise of my mother finally screaming but to her almighty.
A faint noise of a bunch of doctors rushing in.
Slapping on my face to wake me up.

All I can see is their happy faces now.
The time my mother baked my birthday cake.
The time my Dad said, "You are the best!"
The time I saw his red blushing cheeks for the first time.
The time I heard him say those words for which I am still the luckiest girl alive.
The time I exchanged my rings and vows with him.

But it is time for me to bid adieu.
And at last I see the light.
And at last I feel myself releasing.
Releasing through the syringes in me.
For once I am not a Hindu, a brown, a caste.
I am a spirit!
Just a spirit!

_/\_/\______________________________________