" Am I a puppet?" As I string along her memories, her lack of interest in this world becomes clear. The park she used to take me to now burns my heart knowing that she died on the next block. Having been together for decades, I knew her words and reactions. So I built an elaborate facade using my knowledge of her.
' A voice, her voice, to save me from this silence and keep me sane.'
" You are not a puppet." Her voice embraced the warm breeze.
I am sorry for your loss. It has been a year. But you should get your life together! " Their worry echoed around me. But every time, those words morphed into her words of comfort. As the breeze failed to carry her words for a moment, the fear inside me grew. A stabbing pain shot across my chest. After a long second, her sweet voice masked the quietness.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked.
" It was awkward and sweet," I replied. Suddenly, the guitar was strung against the cement bench due to the wind. It weighed me down every time I carried it on my shoulder, though it seemed lighter on the ground. It could be the heaviness of her loss, or it could be the guitar strings you gifted me. I spiralled into making a list of heaviness inside me.
"Do you not like it?" my dead love asked.
"It is perfect-it-is just-it weighs down my shoulder since I changed it to your guitar strings," I said.
" You used to be cheerful."
" Well, you used to be alive!" I sighed.
" Fair enough,"
"You know, your voice keeps me sane after your death. What can I say? "My happiness comes from being bound to you," I said.
" Freedom is rarely unbound." Her tone softened again.
"It sounds like you are trying to convince me," I said.
" I am not." She screeched. She fell into silence for a moment. The grey clouds rushed above me as the chirps of the birds grew louder.
Isn't it weird that I used to have a different ideology when I was alive? I would have asked you to remove the guitar strings I gifted you as they are hurting you. " She paused and continued, "I am contradicting myself more and more lately. How many more lies will you make me spit to maintain your facade, Mithil? " Her voice screeched. Her scream was drowned out by the loud sound of my guitar case sliding across the floor. At that very moment, a thought consumed my mind.
" I am strung to your words like this guitar."
It was clear that this beautiful facade was tearing me apart. Her words ceased to reach me at once. The absence of her words slowly unnerved me. The familiarity of this situation scared my living core.
" You were silent in the days before you died." The words rolled out of my mouth to fill the gaps in this one-sided conversation.
Could I have saved you if I noticed your suffering? Your silence should have alarmed me. But all I was concerned about was planning a perfect anniversary. I am sorry, love."
After an excruciating ride home that I thought would never end, I wobbled into the living room. I crumbled to the floor. Mom rushed over and wrapped her arms around me.
" What happened? Are you okay, Khanna? " She cried. Words ceased to leave my mouth. The silence consumed me for the first time after her death. The lack of words soothed me.
"Iyalisai," Her name rolled off my tongue. But she did not answer. Dead or alive, she did not reply. Her silence drowned me in the truth.
"I am sorry. I miss you so much, Iyalisai! " I paused. Her smile radiated throughout my mind. The following days hit me with the reality of not having her. A few weeks later, I visited her grave. The graveyard wind greeted me. I removed the dried flowers and placed fresh peonies on her grave. The tombstone read, "Iyalisai, 1998–2022."
I now understand why you loved dried flowers. I have grown more fond of them lately. The graveyard breeze wrapped me in comfort.
" I wrote a song. I hope you like it. I bought the album on CD. We can listen together. You would have loved the second track on it. I wish that the music I make was loud enough to reach you. I hope the song will comfort the listeners. " I placed the CD on her grave.
The album title read, "Daisy, live and live more."
I grabbed my guitar and started playing the song. I strummed the chords as I sang the lyrics. The guitar notes blended with the warm breeze of the graveyard.

Daisy, live more and more:

Rays of blue that fail to forge into words.
" You are not alone!" said the melody of birds.
Lying in the field of daisies,
The faint moon reminds me that I am not being lazy.
Do not be guilty of taking breaks.
And although you may be called bleak,
Oh, sweet Daisy, tomorrow will be fine,
Warm rays will hug your heart and soul.
Oh, Daisy, it is okay to feel blue,
Your love holds us together like glue.
And you are loved and treasured.
There is a universe inside your kind heart.
Even if storms surround you,
Oh Daisy, Do not wither your petals.
And never doubt yourself.
And the value you possess.
Live, live, live, Daisy.
Live and live more.
The future will reach you with its goodness.
And soon, the joy you seek will reach you.
Oh Daisy, Take a deep breath.
Everything will be fine.
Your wounds will heal too.
So live and live more.
Oh, Daisy, this storm will pass too,
Oh, Daisy, the life you want will find you soon.
Daisy, live and live more.

#love #hope
© Swaathy