That moment of silence still lingers as a part of my life. That moment and beyond, everything changed. It is a nightmare still etched in the depths of my memory, for I followed every second and every step...stunned and noiseless when my mother lifted the white covers of what came in the vehicle. I was a silent spectator to my father’s wails of agony over his dead son’s body which he got home. My mother however remained silent and expressionless, staring numb at the mortal remains of her beloved son.
A variety of people gathered at the scene…faces known and unknown came to steal glances at the visions of the maimed family. Then came policemen and other people…they told us Anand fell off the train. The details didn’t matter anymore, my brother, my parents son was gone…never to return again or let the family celebrate his homecoming. I looked at the stiff and pale body which had once been my brother. He wasn’t his Maa’s beautiful boy anymore with cuts and stitches sewn across his face. He used to be scared of the hospital as a child…phobic to needles. I stared blankly at the maimed body…this had once been our Anand. Tears blurred my vision and I moved off the scene.
For what it seemed like hours I could still hear the cries of Baba as I sat numbly on the doorstep, my back turned against them, unable to face the reality. There still wasn’t the slightest noise from Maa and I feared turning back and looking at her. I wanted to hear nothing, see nothing, nothing at all…everything seemed so frightening and I doubted my strengths.
A light hand touched my shoulder, but I was stiff, unable or maybe unwilling to respond. A familiar voice spoke, “Di, are you Ok?
It was a realization that I had forgotten about Payal not being there and a sudden pang of guilt cast a knot in my stomach. She was there standing beside me looking at with eyes of concern, eyes now puffed red and tear filled. I stared back, unable to react. She knew the moment and threw her arms about me as we hugged in a silent expression of grief.
