Like a thief, I silently walked behind him fretfully watching his every move. As he crossed the by lanes of the city, I kept up my pace so as not to lose sight of him. I knew he took long steps to walk. I had, after all, walked miles with him- in dreams and in reality. The maroon shirt that he wore today, while he briskly rushed past everyone, was a gift from me to him on our first anniversary. The bag that hung on his left shoulder was the one I had forced him to buy for himself, when we were out on our vacation to Sikkim. As I was half asleep this morning, I had seen him pack the same bag; and I made up my mind to follow him.

Today I was breathlessly running to spy on the man who had, a few years back, taken my breath away. That day he had knelt down on his knees; with a ring pressed between his fingers and a chivalrous grin between the lips. I had scolded him for proposing to me with such an obsolete European style, which totally turned me off…. Then, how he had pampered me for innumerable days before my mood turned normal, and we walked down the altar.

He loved me like none else had. He would understand what my thoughts were, even before they came slipping out of my mouth. The first time we were about to kiss, I tried to shiver and shy away (in true filmy style) but by then we had grown so comfortable with each other, that the lips united without any slow motion. It turned out to be the most boring kiss, without any stories to remember..!

But the years following that kiss were remarkable. It was as if, the dreams were coming true and heaven had finally bestowed some blessings on my roof. We were the best of friends, who shared each moment like a celebration. True soul mates that fought like devils when a solution didn’t seem to flourish. We made love, like same.

But something had gone wrong for the past few weeks. Each moment became an individual celebration and there was hardly anyone to fight… or laugh with. I tried to reason out with him. It seemed alright for a day or two. But the following weeks I found myself alone at ‘the home’, which we had built together.

Was he angry... for so many weeks? Couldn’t be. Was there a new woman? I asked him; but his ‘no’ was as clear as my question. Then what was taking away my once ‘European styled knight’ into a loner?

This morning as I turned to the other side of the bed; he got dressed up, picked up the Sikkim bag, gave me one last look (I know he must have, even though my back faced him), called up someone and in a soft whisper said, “ I am coming..”, and walked out. Without acknowledging anything else, I wore my pair of chappals (may be it was his) and followed him. It seemed he was determined to reach some destination soon. Not batting an eyelid for any soul on the road, he just kept walking.

The shopkeepers were opening the shutters and it felt like the façade of our relationship was opening up…with a jerk...step by step. Both of us were walking, I behind him, like when we had walked around the fire. Sometimes he slowed down, and often he walked as if he had to, had to win this time. I walked accordingly, wondering hard where he is heading to.

And then…suddenly… he stopped. I was startled. “Should I hide myself behind the chai shop”? I thought. “But why should I…I have not done anything wrong...!!” Decisively, I kept my feet intact with the ground. He turned, and looked at me. The blood red eyes pierced through every bone of my body. I do not know, if that was anger on following him through the lanes, or was it his tiredness on swinging past so many lanes just to fool me, or were they tears just about to flow down his cheeks.

But I knew one thing for sure; it was to tell me to stop walking behind him. Strangely, I did. I stood there on the cement road, and saw him disappear into the crowd. I stood there, dumbfounded, for almost five minutes. It was when Khan Chacha came and asked what was wrong that I moved and headed back to “our home”. I took a bath, and left for office. There was no time for tears.

...it has been a week now that I wrote this in my diary. He rang me up today evening and wanted to come over to take the rest of his stuff. He’ll come over at 10 pm tomorrow.

Should I ask him why did he leave?