Short Story: The Song of Sparrow

SP Singh shares a poignant tale about how life changes its meaning every few years for women and pushes us to take the unknown routes.

Lalita Kamat enjoyed the stillness of Bundelkhand sunrise with her filter coffee on the veranda. She had developed a liking for coffee during her weeklong honeymoon in Coorg. The sunlight piggybacked on a balmy October wind kissed her face and arms and blew her grey hair. Her face, adored by a few wrinkles, glowed with morning radiance. She put her hand on Shankar’s vacant chair. The warmth of his laugh and the peace of a quiet moment spent with him lingered in her mind. A shiver of dread passed through her.  Both had their morning and evening coffee together. During the summer, he made lemonade and urged her to drink it to beat the tropical heat. Once in a while, he cooked her favourite masala dosa, coconut chutney, and sambhar. Both shared an undying love for filter coffee, without which their day was never complete. 

His untimely demise five years ago had shattered her world and crushed her from within. The joy of cuddles, kisses, laboured lovemaking, and the squabbles over petty things had retreated into the realms of imagination. She tried to reclaim the fragile beauty of those moments during both sunrise and sunset. The more she clutched at it, desperate to make it last, the more elusive it became. A profound loneliness settled in her heart, and the void deepened.