The writer's widow

"Move your lazy bum bum out of your skeleton chair Tarun! You have been cooked up in this room for over 3 days now. You need to get some fresh air", she said leaning on the door frame.

As the words came out, gently, her eyes savoured the slender figure sitting on an old chair working on a type-writer.

He still loves to use the type-writer, because it was his old great great grandfather's, and as Tarun puts it "The chair and the type-writer brings out the magic in his genes!"

Maybe he was right. She has noticed that he was often stuck for ideas when he was working on his Macbook Pro, but never ran out of ideas when he was working on the type-writer.

But she knew so well that he was only distracted with the internet when he works on the Mac. He gets lost in the world of e-books and blogs, until he forgets the reason why he got on the computer!

"Just a second. I need to pen down this chain of thoughts before I forget them", he said in his matter-of-factly tone.

She walked across the room and noticed his beard was growing bushier and his eyes were focused on the keys on the type writer. His fingers moving gracefully, pounding on each of the keys. It had a certain rhythm to it, that felt like they were dancing and making love to the keys.

She loved to watch him work. His eyes had this serious look. His gaze fixed on the keys. He looked like a soldier on a mission.

She stood behind him. Trying to catch a glimpse of what he was typing. When she realized his hair was greying.

"My..my...look at this..My baby is getting old! Come on baby. You have to take a break. I have made your favourite..Mutton briyani for lunch", she said as she leaned down and wrapped her arms on his neck tenderly. Kissing his soft boyish cheeks.

"Tell you what. Let's take a break for now. I know you have to finish your work and all, but you can't forget you have a wife, sir", she said jokingly.

He laughed and pulled her. She fell on his lap.

"So, I have a wife I forgot about, huh? What has she planned for me?", he asked playfully. Kissing her on the forehead.

It has been 8 years since they tied the knot. And she still gets lost in his brown dreamy eyes. As she gazed into his eyes, she smiled and whispered into his ears

"Why don't you follow me, and you will find out, captain?", she nibbled on his ear and raced out of the door.

Laughing, he got out of the chair and raced after her.

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30 years later, she stood at the very door frame. Looking at the old chair and the abandoned type-writer. Her heart became heavy. Her eyes welled up. The tears chocked her.

Head full of grey hair. Wrinkles marking her age. She stood there. But Tarun was not on the skeleton chair. The room was empty.

She held the ring that hung on her chain, trying to fight back the tears.

She took a deep breath and walked into the room. It took her all the courage she could gather, and she gently say in the chair and placed her dainty, yet old fingers on the even older typewriter. Her fingers traced on the keys. Tears ran down her cheeks, remembering the way his fingers used to dance on them.

As tears fell on the dusty old table, she whispered "Yes. I miss him too".