Unanswered

You and I. We offered our prayers to the same Gods. In the same temples. Sought forgiveness for similar sins. Begged for similar boons. Had similar dreams. Lived the same life. When the earthquake struck, we were sitting side by side, at the same restaurant, eating the same food. You died. I lived. Your head was smashed to pieces. I did not have a single scratch on my body. 

The same prayers which proved to be a miracle for me, seemed insufficient for you. The God, manifesting itself in the various calendars we had so religiously hung across the house, smiled differently at each one of us. For me He chose the all-benevolent one, and for you was reserved the sly one.

Destiny, some said. Philosophers who proclaim that a man writes his own destiny, do not take into account the likes of us. Or, maybe, we have always been written off with that small aster-ix and illegible font at the footer of the page. All the oaths we took, that proclaimed us as a man and a wife till eternity, that united us in our fortunes and misfortunes, that entitled us to have the same future together, were essentially instruments of a society that needs monogamy to control chaos. The presence of holy scriptures, ancient rituals and a pompous extravagant deity on a high pedestal just added to the show.

Karma, said others. You and I, who worked together, hand in hand, to build the same roof over our heads, to share the same meal on our plates, to sire and rear our progeny together, somehow ended up with a Karma so radically different that you are dead and I am alive. 

Sins of a past life, commented some. Yes, indeed. A life that is dubious enough in its existence, suddenly acquires so much power that it overrules our present. It does not matter if I have volunteered to help an orphanage with collecting donations, or if you have provided community service for the leprosy patients. Our sins of a life we have no recollection of having ever lived, are enough to spell doom.

We looked very happy together, and invited the devil's eye, explained someone. True. When the scriptures, through their complicated wordings, preach us on methods to be happy, when the spiritual gurus invite us to attend their expensive discourses to learn about happiness, they fail to inform us about the disclaimer that happiness attracts the devil. When the entire world is trying to devise methods to bring an iota of happiness around it, You and I have stood out in the crowd, spreading so much happiness and love that it provoked the devil to claim your life. Between the two of us, you being merrier in spirit, seemed to be his choice.

You are ashes now while I am still flesh and blood. Every night, when I recollect the moments of that horrific day, I have this nagging question in my mind: what if we had exchanged places? Would you have lived? Would I have died?