The sky had adorned an unpleasant bleakness. Probal stared at it listlessly. Its pale yellowness weighed heavily on him and pulled him into depths of desolation. Dusk always saddened Probal. It was the time for goodbyes when life slowed down to rest. When the birds flapped their wings wearily towards their nests, Probal knew it was time. The sky would now be sheathed in the black cloak of night and the houses in their colony would light up their slit-like windows with the low powered yellow bulbs plunging Probal’s world into darkness.
Sighing, Probal turned away from the window and hobbled towards the bed. He pulled up the chair to rest hos tired frame in it and placed his palm on Pronita’s shrivelled forehead.
Pronita, his wife of six decades, raised her eyes at his touch.
“Time for your evening medicine dear” said Probal smiling at her.
She did not return his smile. Not because she did not want to but rather she could not. The muscle failure owing to ALS that had afflicted her body five years ago had locked up all her muscles. She lay prostrate staring up at him blankly all day.
Probal had uncomplainingly nursed her all these years. There was a nurse who would come in the morning to attend to Pronita’s needs and Probal would manage the nights.
He turned towards the small square table at the side of the bed. It was covered with medicines of various sizes. Bottles and tablets lay tumbling over one another covered with a sheet of dust.
Probal reached for the one he needed and crushed it to powder before pouring it into Pronita’s feeding tube.
Pronita’s eyes quivered with the effort. She stared glassy eyed as the spasm rocked her body every time she had to swallow. The discomfort had worsened over the past few days. Probal knew it would increase and not relent till it drew out the last breath from her. She had been brave, but her strength was ebbing.
The prolonged struggle had extracted every bit of her energy and Probal could see she was sinking lower and lower into a dark abyss.
He switched on her favourite music to divert her mind. Doctors had told him that might be a good distraction, even if temporary. Probal peered down to look at Pronita’s weathered face. It bore the strains of the illness she had to bear for the last five years. Her eyes had sunk into deep dark hollows, her skin had sagged making her cheekbones protrude out. She was a skeleton of her former self.
Pronita had never been a beauty but in her own simple ways she had filled Probal’s heart and hearth with happiness and comfort. It had been enough for him. It pained him now to find her go through this suffering.
He slipped his fingers into hers that lay next to her stiff body, cold and still.
“Do you feel better now dear?” he asked softly.
Pronita looked up at him with the same pained look. Probal knew she was trying to be brave for him. Then for the first time in all these years, he saw something new in them. He had learnt to read every look that Pronita gave him. This one was new. He had never seen it before. He leaned closer towards her.
Suddenly, Probal knew what her gaze was trying to tell him. The blank look framed the words for him. He straightened up shaking his head. He looked down at his hands that trembled.
He gazed down at Pronita who stared back at him beseechingly. The silent look howled out its urgency. It was a plea for liberation.
Probal nodded slowly. For the first time in 60 years, he uttered the words he had never deemed necessary.
“I love you Pronita. And I will always love you till my last breath” his voice cracked and the trembling in his hands increased as he reached for the pillow lying next to her.
He wiped off the tears trickling down the sides of her eyes and kissed her tenderly on the forehead before pressing the pillow down on her face.
He watched silently as Pronita’s eyes closed peacefully.
“Fare thee well, sweetheart” whispered Probal.
Somewhere in the distance, etched out against the pale-yellow sky, a homeward bound bird screeched in response acknowledging his final farewell.
Cover Photo credits by George Becker from Pexels
