“I’m bringing her too, if that’s okay.”
…”of course, you are. Though I don’t like it, I agree you’ve got a life too.”
He could only chuckle at her brutal honesty.
…”you know in my head, we live in a studio apartment.”
“I could afford a decent house.”
…”nope. We travel a lot. A LOT. And our money exhausts soon.”
“Travelling and you. You relate travelling to death”.
…”I could travel. I’d watch your beautiful face as much as I wish to, and listen to your horrible singing.”
His smile stopped short and he tried not to think of his reconstructive surgeries and the mass of pills that go inside to keep him alive.
…”…and, you’d love this. There’s this high ceiling, and the enormous pink wall that displays your photographs and paintings. May be all the frames should be white. You see it isn’t quite shabby. And we sleep in the hammock hung beside the window that faces the Church.”
…”I don’t know. Any.”
Her face fell. She plunged into the sofa and started to sob like a stubborn child. He remained frozen. She continued.
“May be that’s enough for today”.
…”there has to be a glass bowl where I’d keep all my red beads. This goes best on the teapoy, which isn’t the brightest idea. Only if…”
“Arundhati. Please. I insist.”
…”WHAT NOW? I thought you said you were designed to let me dream. I know and I realise every day that we don’t have a choice, but to dream. And oh yes. Easy for you to say, you’ll be out of here soon. What, five years? JESUS!”
“Guess, only four left. It will be new year soon.”
“I like you more than I’m allowed to.”
…”I like you more than I’m allowed to too.”
…”wish I could slam a door. Wish there were a smiley for that too.”