Sleeping Beauty

It happens twice in your life.

Ashen .I called her ‘Ashy’. She was as white as the sheet that enveloped her. Maybe fairer. Just like me.

She didn’t see me yet. Her tiny little eyes tightly shut. My own sleeping beauty.

I am not an artist and such is the lack of imagination that I don’t remember even having a dream. But this canvas I held in my hands enthused all the shades I had bottled up within me. All stocked up, they now reasoned their existence.

Oxford defines, ‘Feelings are abstract nouns and can’t be perceived by the five senses’. Then how could I see so much love, hear this peace and touch such joy? With this nascent heaven on earth I could sense it all. Every single bit of it. They say you could see it in my eyes. Hear every single click coupled with the flash in my soul. I guess they could, because I was filming the entire roll myself.

Lights.
Camera.
Action.

I saw her crawl out of my hands. Those tiny little things trying to carry the weight of that explosive curiosity. Her freshness wriggled out of my aging folds. Did you see her take that first step? I barely could, as she raced past me. I had to run. But I was slower. She had much more life. I couldn’t catch up.

I get really tired with all this running around, but I have to stay awake so that she doesn’t sleep. I know I must have fallen asleep somewhere. I missed all the exams. But I made it to the stage just in time to see her pose for the picture. You should see that photograph; I think the degree caught my pride reflecting in its cover.

We came home really exhausted. It is difficult to arrange for such a big celebration when your legs wobble. But tomorrow I don’t think they will shake on the aisle. I tell you, it is as white as the towel she came in. Maybe the veil should have been thinner.

I told you they wouldn’t tremble. But its a tremor every time her kids come home. I tell them about their mother, how quiet she was. They don’t listen. No one does, anymore.

She is pale again. That white envelope again.

Something is trembling. Maybe my eyes. They are trying to hold on to something. Something that is a part of me.

It falls on her closed eyes.

Cut.

My own sleeping beauty. Her tiny little eyes tightly shut. She never saw me.

It happens twice in your life. Whole life flashes in front of you. Once when your own life starts slipping away.

And second when your child never breathes.