|Source : The Healing and comforting|
bond ...of Touch
" Oh ! Mrs. Raina !" Aabha must avoid her.. even a simple good morning will take one full minute with her so she rushed past her, head bent, looking steadily at her wrist-watch and once past her, in the empty corridor , she sprinted , entered in the department, signed her attendance , picked up chalk and duster and rushed upstairs for her class of Post grads waiting eagerly for her .
"Damn !" she forgot the coloured chalks ..will make Manoj -the lanky student from Hisar, go and fetch them ...
'Good Morning Batch !' she greeted with her usual phrase, the batch responded and the familiar routine started ...
It was precisely after 2 hours , when she was coming down stairs, with head covered with a thick layer of chalk-dust , sitting like a colourful spray on her rich, dark hair that she got time to call Prem - her husband .
He picked after 4 calls,sound busy and answered in monosyllables, distracted, as usual..
Its been nine years that Prem is like this..No... she checked herself, may be only five ..It was sometime after Lavya and then Pihu were born that the conversation had cease to flow. She know it is there the love, the loyalty but that spark has gone missing.. Sometimes Prem is vocal about his feelings saying Aabha has become too busy and preoccupied..
Sometimes she wonders is it really she who is at fault ... a weak voice answered - Yes!
Aabha was amazed at its audacity and as usual, she snapped shut the already faint voice by concentrating on the task at hand - dissecting out the nervous system of Pila globosa .
For another one and a half hours it was the nerves,the neural
ganglion and the H shaped network of nerves inside Pila .
Its complicated ,the creature being the apple snail, it has twisted its symmetry thus making it hard to find the frail, fibre like nerves. It is because of these weak fibre of nerves that Pila knows when to feed,salt concentration in its body, how to protect itself and all other life's functions... though weak, frail Pila listens to these... then why is she Aabha Mehta the intelligent,the wise ,the respected, not able to bear that tiny voice of her own conscious ?
She took a deep breath, discarded her gloves,washed her hands and came out of the confinements of the department.
She sighted Mrs. Raina again. Now she could not avoid her and Mrs Raina crushed her slim figure in her boisterous embrace. Aabha could feel the softness of her fragrant flesh. It was surprisingly cool and she relaxed inadvertently !
This time she heard the faint voice- the puny sound reminding her of her big fault .. yeah, she has forgotten how to touch Prem's soul and his feelings have turned.. dormant.
Today Aabha - happy and glowing, eagerly waits for Prem. The bell rings, she opens the door ... Prem is there - bloodied and bruised , with head in bandages, two colleagues supporting him,drowsy from painkillers.Sujit told about the accident and that her phone was switched off . They went.
Aabha takes -off Prem's shoes but can not remove his blood soaked shirt . She sits mechanically.Then on an impulse holds his hand... with all the love and tenderness she have.
For hours, while Prem is in an unconscious slumber Aabha soak his hand with tears of repentance and love.
Seems like eons. Prem opens his eyes.. they are bright -he has lost blood still, he is full of life and love for Aabha.
He tells that while in sleep he felt as if someone is holding his hand guiding him to her....He tells that the touch was affectionate and comforting as if somebody has absorbed all the pain and drudgery from his body n soul.... It was invigorating ...
Aabha smiles- holds his hand gently .. Its her Prem - full of spark and love.
Prem smiles - its his Aabha - who can touch his soul and caress it out of all miseries ...
Both share the glow of love - Prem-aabh !
This post is written as an IB Happy hours Post for #Bring Back the Touch in association with IndiBlogger and Parachute Advansed Body Lotion