My fingers ran through the lines of the paper, wherein lied the coded message that she had left me. It was in Morse and I was transcribing it to the English alphabets in my notepad and all the while as I assigned the English letters to the dots and dashes, not for once did I let myself make sense out of what was written.
The later I read it, the better.
I blindly wrote the translated letters on my notepad. Why was I still translating it, I didn't know.
A part of me wanted to listen to her one last time and the other knew what exactly she had written. I knew her words were going to crumble me down but I was letting it.
Dot-dot/ dash-dot-dash-dot dash-dash-dash dot-dot-dash dot-dash-dot-dot dash-dot-dot dash-dot dash/ dash-dot-dot-dot dot/ dash dash-dot dash-dash dot dash-dot-dot.
I scribbled down the alternate letters, my subconscious mind trying to decipher the words as I proceeded. But I stopped myself again.
"Only had you not been so rash to act. Only had you listened to her for that one last time." I chastised myself, in my mind.
How fast had everything happened. Everything within a span of two years. And it only begun with one of my many business meetings, as if it were nothing special.
••◑••
A wild girl, bound in the stringent rules of the business class Indian-American orthodoxy from the 1960s Texas. She was defiant, unruly, rash in her actions. But in those acts lied a silent scream for freedom. A scream to live a life, not meant for her.
She thought he would understand. She dreamt that he would.
Only if he did.
This is the story of Tanuja Seshadri and Sanjay Oberoi.
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TAMED: The Final Try Of Seshadri
Short Story"I thought I could comfort you, when you said that your family was too controlling and orthodox. I wanted to think that your family was the problem but I was wrong. You are the problem, Miss Seshadri." **** "As the word goes now, seems like the wild...
