Short Story
The Farewell |
ARUN CHANDRA BHUYAN |
(Third Year Class B.A.) |
He looked at her hands.
"They won't ever forget you know," he broke the ice, though he couldn't say it properly. "The mind forgets soon. But the body doesn't ever forget."
She laughed.
"You were always a great talker," she said, "I wonder some times whether half the time you know what you are talking about ?"
"Maybe, of course, I don't," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "But you do. You always will, won't you?"
"Yes, of course that is my business," she tried to laugh naturally ; "But you shouldn't be a dictator.
"Yes, I commit a mistake on thinking so," he said, still not leaving her eyes.
"Mila, you are just coming at the eleventh hour. It is a red-letter day for me. The prolonged hazardous problem will be solved to-day," his voice lowed down.
Mila was frightened at his seriousness. This time, she saw straight to his eyes.
Now the eyes lost their dazzlingness. It was pale. The eyes showed that he was now more weak than the past years.
"Mila," he said steadily, "despite the fact, matters come to a crisis. The doctor told me yesterday that I will not be a fit person anymore to enjoy the pomp and grandeur of the worldly life."
"'I do hope, you will not discuss this matter any more", she inter- pretted. "Please speak something good."
"Every cloud has its silver lining, but my cloud is going to lose its lining, Don't think I am speaking rubbish. I am serious."
It was a T. B. Sanatorium of Shillong. Some time back, he took bed and still he was on bed. Now he was day by day proceeding to grave- yard. He was suffering from T. B. He knew well that he would not be recovered from this terrible and tormenting disease— there was only a grimy and
