The Window

The bell rang and I gave a sigh of relief. “I guess, finally my help has come. She is becoming a nerve wrecker for me lately, owing to the number of leaves she is taking”, I thought to myself.

I rushed to open the door only to be met by disappointment; it was the milkman.

“It’s time we do the dishes. No point procrastinating. Count it as another leave.” said Shaan as he saw my discontent.

I quietly went to do the dishes. As if having a toddler and a lousy husband was not enough that this came my way.

The shabby window in front of my kitchen sink called for cleaning. One of the most taxing jobs in the world is to take out the mineral deposit stains off the glass window. As I recollected a tutorial video to make a magic mixture using vinegar solution, my eyes fell on a woman in the adjoining building picking a cardboard carton with immense difficulty. The black crew neck T-shirt hugged her broad shoulders and heavy physique adequately. The ransacked state of cartons placed in the apartment told me they were new to the building.

While clearing out a huge pile of utensils, I did witness her opening several boxes, and making a home of a house. While she was swamped with her chores, I was done with mine. Something about her caught my undivided attention that day. Unknowingly, that home became part of my sight, but I never knew it would become an inevitable part of my life.

It was a week past that day and over the time I had seen her undergo several acts. There was a day I saw her watering her well-groomed money plant. The other day I saw her dig deep in a book with mehandi pack on her red head. Most of the days I saw her built her home, but a quintessential element of the home was still missing – window blinds. My eyes could skim her quaint home like a scanner, while my heart told me what I was doing was no different than stalking.

Unusual to the routine, Shaan came home early one fine day and we were having a quiet time with our daughter. It was around 7PM and the meticulous mother in me got up to grab her bottle of milk. As I stood near the gas stove, warming her milk, my eyes slid to my usual spot. I saw the known-unknown woman’s silhouette pressing her right wrist with her left palm. As she stood in her drawing room, her posture articulated her pain. Even after opening the window I was barely able to make out her facial expressions. “She must be hurt. What must have happened?” The curious woman in me wanted to know more. A hiss sound took my attention off her. It was the sound of milk greasing the burner. I rushed to switch off the flame, and by the time I turned, she was gone. I returned to my family time, though my mind kept drifting- to her, to her pain.

The next morning a hurricane set loose over my home. As Miaa got late for school, Shaan was making her change hurriedly. I was preparing her tiffin, while my help was running chores on my instructions. It was not before 10AM, that I was able to make myself a hot cup of tea. There is nothing like nesting yourself with a hot hug of tea, after a hard sprint of mind and body. After getting rejuvenated, as I got up to clear the mess made by the three year old, I looked at the adjacent building’s window, which had no sight for her. I was worried for her, and wanted to know of her well-being.

Throughout that day I made several glares at her abode, but she was nowhere to be found.
“I hope she is fine.” I said within.
“What if she was taken to the hospital?”
It was not until late evening that my prayers were answered. I saw her standing at her front door, waiting patiently for a man to open the door. As he unlocked the door, both of them walked in together. The white bandages on her wrist told me she had been taken care of.

“What do you keep staring at?”
I almost gave a cry as he startled me from behind.
“You scared me Shaan.” I said after catching my breath.
“I said what are you looking at.” He asked again.
“That couple. They have moved in a few days back. I saw this woman hurt yesterday, so I was worried about her.” I felt he would take interest in it like I did but alas, I was wrong.
“Have you gone totally insane? Are you part of the neighborhood watch plan?” he raised his eyebrows with disapproval.
“What? No.”
“Then why are you spying on them?”
“Shaan I just had a feeling that she needed help. Look at her. She looks docile. She is accompanied by a man today and..”
“And they must be a couple. She must have hurt herself. He is there for her. Why are you bothered?” he still demanded logical answer.
“I feel she is a victim of domestic violence. I have often seen her depressed.”
“And that gives you the right to judge. Don’t poke your nose in anyone else’s business Sanya. I am warning you.”

He picked a bottle of water and left the kitchen.
“Was he right?” I asked myself. It was true that I was addicted to some one else’s lifestyle, as if it was my very own. Maybe I had crossed the line. That very moment, I promised myself to not let my heart wander and keep my eyes under check. My freelance work was getting impacted due to my mind drifting to random thoughts.

I worked late that night, as Shaan and Miaa went off to sleep. The clock showed ten past twelve and my heavy eyes demanded sleep.

As I entered my kitchen to switch off the lights, I felt I heard a noise. I saw her through the window, fallen on the floor, begging for mercy. She had her hands folded, as if she was asking for forgiveness from someone. I felt weak in my knees, and I wanted to rush and help her that very minute. A part of me told me to wake Shaan up, but he had made his stance clear in this regard. I was too scared to call 100, so I stood there regretting instead. She was not audible to me, but her pain screamed and called out to me. I jumped on my kitchen slab to have a good look at her husband, but all I saw was her.

It took minutes for me to realize that either I need to help her, or I needed to help myself by retiring to bed. The coward in me chose the latter. It was a restless night. Her plight did not leave my mind for a second. The next morning, I saw her seated in her balcony. She had her usual straight face. She did make a good attempt to hide her marks by wearing a full sleeve t-shirt, but its deep back unfolded her misery. The black and blue marks said the unsaid.

I made up my mind to register a complaint with the National Domestic Violence Helpline, but I could not garner the strength. Another night came, and so did the violence. I saw her in pain again, but this time I could not handle it. I turned my back on her and went to bed. I just knew one thing – I had to make a call to the helpline the very next day.

It was the usual morning. I sat on my bed and saw my husband frantically looking down from the balcony.
“Good Morning.” I called out.
“Come here. Fast.” He yelled.
I ran to the balcony as blood rushed to my head.
I saw a crowd in front of my adjacent building as he filled me in. “I hear some one is murdered. Police is investigating.”

No sooner had he finished the sentence, than my heart sank. I did not lose a second and ran downstairs in my pyjamas.

“Sanya. Listen. Where are you going?” I heard him yell.

“Where I should have gone much earlier.” Cried my head.

I entered the building and got hold of the watchman there. “What happened?” I asked in a low tone while my heart pumped blood at a lightning speed.

“Murder. Flat 404” I wished he had not said the fourth floor.

“No. It can’t be.”
I called for the lift, but it refused to come. I took the stairs instead. I had to know. I really had to.

As I entered flat 404, I saw what I had only seen through my window yet. The woman. She was there, seated on a sofa, shivering with fear and anguish. I took a deep breath and gave out a sigh of relief.

A cop was taking her statement seated beside her. I asked one of the women standing in the crowd, as to who died.
“Roma’s husband died. Well murdered. She murdered him in self-defense.” She spoke softly. “They have sent the body for autopsy.”

She finally had a name – Roma. I saw how Roma was trying to explain the situation in which she had to put that knife through him. I was not able to help her through her ordeal, but I knew I had to help her then – at that moment.

I jumped to support her, and told the cops what I had witnessed in the last few days. He took my name and address and asked me to act as an eyewitness to support her case. I nodded. Roma was surprised to learn that she was under watch for days. She also had a feeling of respite as someone could back her up. I left the building and felt responsible for it somehow. I wish I’d been there earlier. It might have made all the difference. So all I can tell you is why he was murdered. He was murdered because he called for it.

I did not see Roma again. She moved to some other accommodation. Who would like to stay in those wretched memories anyway? Human mind is one of the most gifted creations. It forgets as we proceed in life, and so did I.

While shopping in a supermarket a few days later, I saw Roma holding a salsa bottle as she checked the ingredients.

“Hi! Remember me?” I said tapping her shoulder.
“Oh yes! Hi. How have you been?” she sounded chirpy.
“I am good. You look better, much better, if I may say.” I was skeptical, as she looked like another woman all together. Her voice sounded spunky with no remorse what so ever.
“Thanks. And thanks to you for that. My case looks strong because of you.” Her eyes sparkled as she delivered the sentence.
“About that, I have been wanting to apologize for long now. You must have felt awkward knowing I had my eyes set on your home. I hope you know I didn’t intend to do that on purpose.” I had to explain.
“Oh please. It’s okay.” She smiled and her red lips beamed.
“Great. Nice meeting you.” My heart felt lighter and I turned.

“By the way”, she said, as I was about to make my way to the checkout counter. “If you can see someone, then that someone can see you too. That’s the magic of sight. Okay Bye. I will finally get the blinds now.”