Recursion

Since the last 2 minutes, I had watched myself punch an inky hole into the hand-made paper of the executive diary. The nib won't move and with every passing thought the depression grew bigger and darker. The Timex Empera beamed 9:30 pm from my left hand which hung lazily on the sofa's hand-rest. The watch was a gift from my wife last anniversary. It was three years since we tied the knot, three blissful years! No kids though, just us. That was always the plan. We wanted to wait till we were financially secure enough to raise children.

Shivani and I first met in college. In her college that is. It was the annual function and I was not in the habit of missing college functions back then. Especially if it was a girl's college. A common friend got us introduced. The first touch was a simple shake of the hands for her and a nervous, hormone inducing and delirious moment for me. I have never told her what I felt then. It was too embarrassing to disclose. Anyways, so we met! She did all the talking that night. It has been like that ever since, sigh ! The friend was Ravi, the one who introduced us. Ravi and Shivani knew each other really well. In fact, she was the girl next door for him. What feelings he harbored for her in the past we shall never find out, but he was going steady with Meenakshi at that point in time. Their relationship was based on much trust and devotion, eventually culminating in matrimony. Meenakshi and Shivani were to work in the same office later. As time passed I got news of Ravi more through his wife via my wife than from the man himself.

Incidentally, Deepak, Meenakshi's younger brother worked in my office. For people living in the same city, the world sure is a small place. Me and Deepak, we didn't get along and the blame went to a very politically correct 'non-overlapping mental frequency'. It had otherwise become difficult to point out our exact attitudinal non-conformances. Not that being earnest, hard-working, responsible is bad, but somehow I didn't find these qualities looking pretty on him. At the back of my mind I always felt he was putting up a pretense. Probably, he thought I was pretending more, or being too unpretentious. Whatever !

If ever there were two people as far apart in mannerisms as they were close in affection, it would be Deepak and his best friend Sumit. It really clicked for them. Deepak, the timid pushover and Sumit the belligerent bulldozer. It was a delight to watch them argue sometimes - Sumit's yang to Deepak's yin. But they always managed to insure their friendship against such small skirmishes.

Sumit also worked in my office. Once he brought his son Rohit to the office. He was a complete package. In mischief! The naughtly glint in the eyes and the wide smile never left him. A smile did leave Sumit's face, possibly forever when his only child died.

I remember the headline, "Killer blue-line mauls 8 year old". Sumit died of a stroke the year after. It had something to do with his bereavement. Deepak was soon to follow. He was done in by pancreatic cancer. Meenakshi and Ravi died together in a high speed car crash last year. The guilty driver of the truck fled from the spot. Shivani died during child-birth last month. Both the mother and the child.

Sleeping pill overdose almost always caused asphyxiation, promised the internet. I strained to look in the ever dimming light of my living room, to the shelf which contained the stack of our favorite music CDs. To my breathless wonder, the stack appeared empty.



p.s. This is a work of fiction and my pure imagination. Any relevance to a person living or dead is purely coincidental.