The Open Door

The stars continue to twinkle in the dark hours of a time, somewhere between a late night and an early morning. They sparkle and stop, and do so again, synchronising with every blink of her eye. As she peers down her window, the beauty of her garden seems to dissolve itself into shapeless figures, still in the night, wary in the darkness. Things seem so different in the night! So profound. So thoughtful.
Since sleep has left her for the night, she decides to make it constructive rather than staring at the ceiling, hearing the wall clock tick and failing at attempts of calling on sleep. She picks up a book from her Archer shelf and climbs her way down to the kitchen. A cup of beaten coffee, a giant book and some late night reading on the hard couch. Perfect plan for a sleepless night.
As she starts heating the milk, her phone beeps. As she walks towards it, it starts ringing. She hurries towards it, quickens her pace, and picks up the call from an unknown number.
“Hi,” he says. “It’s me.”

She stops blinking for a minute. Or two. Then, she turns her way to the coffee-to-be and switches off the gas. The perfect plan of her sleepless night is about to change, after all.
“Hi, you awake? I’m sorry you must be sleeping at this time and… I just called you like that…you do know who this is, right?”
“Yes, yes. I know. I’m awake. Pretty much. Tell me.”
“Oh, so you’re awake? How come you’re awake?”
“I don’t know. I’m just awake.
Tell me.”
“So, are you half-awake or fully awake?”
“I am fully awake, Ray.” “Tell me! What is it? What happened?”
“Ok. So you’re fully awake. Then open the door.”
“What?”
“Yes. Open the door. I mean, if you’re all right with letting me in at this time.”
“But…”
“Yes.” Click.

He hung up! What arrogance! What makes him think she’ll open the door? All of a sudden. In the still of the night. To all that darkness again? No.
“Hi. I was hoping you would let me in. I’m glad. It’s really cold outside!
How do you live in this place?
But nice house, pretty huge for one person.”
“Uh…”
He is already midway in the room while she is still at the door.
Mouth half open. Eyes wide. What just happened?

“Oh, sorry, Binny. I just came in like that.” “I mean this is your house and…Ok. Sorry. Shut the door, the wind is cold. You don’t want to catch a cold, do you?”
“I don’t catch a cold in winters anymore.”
“Ok, that’s great. You want to leave the door open then?”
She shuts the door and sits on the couch. This arrogance!
“So don’t you want to show me around your house?”
“Sit. There. On that chair.”
“Yes…ok…”
Silence. So finally, he’s awkward. She smiles slightly.

The clock starts ticking loudly as they both stare at opposite walls. She can’t even try calling on sleep at this time. Sleep is a beautiful saviour, it takes you away into a comforting world of nothingness when you don’t want to face a situation troubling you. She should’ve slept this night. Does she have to face it now? Had she slept off, she would’ve probably missed the beep. And the ring. And this situation would not have arised. But why is she out of place? She belongs here. He doesn’t. Yes.
“So,” she cleared her throat. “How come? At this time?”
“I thought you’d say how come…after all this time?”
She looked at him and looked away.
“I was making myself some hot coffee, I’ll fix you one too. You seem cold.”
“I don’t have coffee, Binny. And you seem colder.”

“I don’t keep that tea with me anymore, Ray. I don’t keep all these unnecessary things. I like coffee, and so I keep coffee. You don’t want one, I’ll make it for myself alone.”
“Ok, ok, coffee it is. Why are you getting angry?”
“I am not getting angry. I’ll go make it then.”
“Should I…”
“No. Sit here.”
“Ok.”

She beats the coffee longer. Louder. It seems weird to pour two cups of milk. She is so used to pouring one.
She notices him from the corner of her eye. He is the same! Same strong arms, muscular chest. Rugged hands. Brown rough hair. Has it thinned down a little? Is that a wrinkle next to his right eye? His eyes. His eyes are the same though—brown and soft—such a contradiction to the rest of him. It is as if they belong to another person. A person who is caring, understanding, lovable. Very, very lovable.

His eyes dart around to see what he can of her house. Only her house. Simple settings, meagre furniture, subtle wallpapers. Is that a picture of her younger self? How much she has changed now! Old for her age. Unkempt. She looks so frail. But doesn’t seem frail at all. It is as if the sweet vulnerability he always placed his arms around has pushed her way up like a strong, but light water fountain—falling all around him, but never on him.
“Here. Coffee.”
“Thanks.”
“So, you still live there, back in the town side?”
“Yes.”
“With her?”
“No.”

Did he see a smile on her? No, he must have imagined it.
“Nice coffee. I really didn’t know you make such good coffee! Appreciated!”
“That’s alright. You didn’t know or appreciate a lot of things about me.”
“Binny.” He puts the coffee cup down. “I am sorry. I am just very sorry. For everything. Please, I’m sorry. Please.”

He is already midway, in a room of his own while she is still at the door. What just happened? What? What does he think of himself? He cannot just come, after five long years, in the dead of the night, like the ghost of a memory she thought she had long forgotten. And ask for forgiveness? Where is his arrogance? She needs his arrogance to hate him. Can one apology make up for all that pain, that suffering? Those bad days she once always had. Those sleepless nights she still sometimes does. Is every darkness supposed to be lit up? No.
“It’s okay, Ray. Put it behind you. It’s okay.”
“It is?”
“Yes.”
“Sure, Binny?”
“…Yes.”

“Binny. Thank you. I just…thank you! You are so…easy. Unlike me. I am so…complicated. But you…you make everything so easy. Thank you. Seriously.”
She laughs. A little more than usual. It is too ironical to not.
“Just take care. Just take care, Binny.”
She smiles.
“I… I think…I think I should take your leave now. You…you should be sleeping at this time.”
“Yes, maybe you should leave.”
He gets up and walks to the door. He opens it ajar and looks back.
“Bye Binny. Thank you.”
“Bye, Ray.”
As she peers down the same window, he looks up and waves goodbye.
“You didn’t finish your coffee, Ray.”
“And you’ve shut the door too tight, Binny.”
He walks off.
She stares at the open door.