The Deferred Burial

As I sat there looking at her, I realized that we have been through this life and this moment earlier too. Here in front of us was lying another corpse begging us for a decent sepulture and I knew, we would just sit there staring at it for a long, long time and will then just shove it under the bed and dismiss the burial to another unknown time in future.

I had accepted this callousness over the years and had gotten used to our indifference too. I was certain that this corpse too would be forgotten like the ones before it. Maybe, it will stink for a few days; maybe the ants of daily rigor will devour it bit by bit and it will then crumble down on its own; maybe it will just sit there in a corner and dust of our fading memories will blanket it and it will never be spoken of again. No matter, what course it was destined to take, I was certain that it will no longer be brought out again in the sunlight, wept over and be given a proper place to rest or a dignified inhumation.

She got up after a few minutes and walked to the kitchen counter and poured herself a glass of water. She lingered on for the next few minutes, picking a shoe, throwing a towel in the laundry bucket, setting the dishwasher and then picked up her car keys, said a hurried bye and moved out of the house, leaving the little bundle of misery wrapped in a plain white sheet on the cold floor where we sat, perhaps expecting me to get rid of it by the time she decided to return.

I looked at the door for a while and then back to the remains of what we once stood for, lying still and motionless in front of me, perhaps waiting for me to probe it and kindle some life back into it.

I couldn’t bear it anymore. I swallowed a lump and closed the door, picked up a beer from the refrigerator and unwrapped the sheet.

A gust of smoke filled my lungs. I choked on the fumes of the suppressed emotions. The stench of anger and betrayal enveloped my being. I hurled the pint I was carrying on the floor in rage and threw myself on the bed. I shut my eyes tight and muffled my screams by throwing my face into a pillow and soon lost my consciousness.

Another night passed. When the Sun filled the room the next morning, there were no signs of the argument from last night, no traces of the bundle of our ego on the floor and no fumes or odour of our dilapidated, ailing relationship.

I picked up my phone and texted her. “Last night got rough. Let the bygones be, meet me at the corner – our usual place and let’s have the breakfast and coffee together. XOXO”

A few minutes later I received a reply that read “See you in 15 minutes.”

I let out a sigh and a smile crossed my lips. We were back again and the cadaver of another raging fight was pushed under the bed without a burial.

As I was moving out of the house and closing the door behind me, from the corner of my eye, I saw the bed shake a little.