It was a normal Saturday. It was cloudy on a winter day and a gloom enveloped my tiny cottage.
I tried to create a checklist of all that I had to do through the weekend to keep my eyes from wandering to the phone.
I recollect Saturdays are days that I wanted to enjoy to the hilt and I had admitted it to him.
The phone log had just one name and number for the longest scroll. For a week now the phone felt dead. It had not buzzed for ... Let me see.. how long...
I had started feeling numb. It did not hurt. No tears came. Anger? No. Pain? Numb. Hate? Nah... Not at all ...
Then the phone rang. The same familiar number. I did not want to pick it. But... Was there something left here that I had to return?
I took the call like a machine. I heard the familiar voice sans the warmth. Very matter of fact. He told me about some of my things that were still at his place. I wanted to say..."trash it... I don't need it .. I don't want anything from you.."
The hum of a tune passed my mind and it was just so accurate...
Mujhe kuch bhi nahin chaahiye tum se
Na dilaasa, na bharosa
Na wah wah, na humdardi
Na sapna, na sahulat...
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