Tuesday, 16 October 2012

A Shadowed Door



I remember walking out for a phone call. I tend to get irritated when people call and talk about irrelevant things that make me want to hurtle the most inflamed profanities at them. These calls often get long and loud so I walked out of the room to leave her in peace and continue reading undisturbed. The time had flown and the call finally ended and I walked back in. 
The only lights were in the room she was in. The door looked like this partly illuminated gateway from some play not staged, bright and dark all at the same time. I could see the edge partly drenched in shadows. Her movement s inside shifting the light and making the shadows dance across the door frame. Then I heard her voice. It was beautiful. I walked to that edge and looked inside. There she laid on the bed, diagonally on her stomach. Her legs bent n swaying to and fro in the air to the tune she sang. Her hands delicately turned every page, the rustle of which somehow perfectly played into her voice. I remember she was reading Calvin and Hobbes. I remember the song more clearly and painfully so. She was singing Yellow by Coldplay. Not a big fan must say but she made my pulse quicken with that song. She always told she sang that song completely and often and even many people have complimented her for it. She sings well in not too many words. I knew she has sung that song for others, be it to strangers or friends, lovers or family. To me it seemed everyone had heard her sing. She sang for everyone but me. I never asked and she never sang.
So I stood and I listened. But I didn't want her to see me. So I turned and hid in the shadows next to the door. I remember smiling in the darkness as the shadows completely kept me out of sight. I remember taking that breath finally as her voice washed those words over my soul. She sang the whole song while waiting for me to return. I waited in fear that she would stop the song. I waited and I listened, with my head bent, maybe in silent prayer or sheer joy. Her voice in that instant was pure cocaine for me.
Her voice was still echoing in my head, my heart still beating to her song that I heard her call out my name. I turned and smirked my usual smirk for her. I told her about the call and laid down next to her breathing her in as i held her close to me. Hoping against hope that my heartbeat won't give my secret away.
She never knew.
She never noticed.
It is still one of my favourite memories of her.
I still can hear her voice and I still hate that song for it.
She never sang for me.
But I still heard her.