And in one of these times that single photograph kept inside the cupboard drew her towards itself. The only last memory of him she could not part with.
* * *
Why is that photograph still kept inside the cupboard? What use is it now to anyone? And isn’t this the one thing we all have been running away from? Then why have it in a place one can see each day? Devyani’s thoughts rambled on and on in a similar pattern.
It is the winters, she thought. They are always harbinger of mess in my life. These cold winds they blow away my mind it seems. Purposefully eroding things that rake past.
But why the photograph? And why do I desperately want to be with Azhar? What makes me continue to be with him?
She felt a strong shot of pain through her head. The constant sound of loud television in her parents’ room was also not helping.
She decided to take a walk.
* * *
His mind was somewhere else now. It was a similar night and he was again watching television, just like tonight. He had seen his wife walk out. He could also hear someone speak outside. Someone who was very angry. And it felt like there were two people out there. But second one not as loud as the man.
He decided to see who it was. He slowly got up and walked outside. He gazed at the sky, it was a full moon night. The night the demon turns humans into monsters and gorges on a few more as victims.
What a foolish way to look at life! He thought and decided to follow the voice.
* * *
All that Devyani remembers is that she was out that night. Her parents had asked her this question a million times, but she could never for once recall how or why she went outside. Even in her nightmares, she always sees herself next to the dead body. Never has she watched herself walk from home to the point.
“There must be something you remember about that night?” the police too had asked her this.
“Just that he died twice that night,” she always replied.