The White Frock and the Broken Doll

“I think this is the last stop, mate.” Someone tapped on my shoulders. I could not feel my legs. I stumbled and fell in the compartment; he tried to pick me up. 

“Get your hands off me.” I glared at him.  

“You are too drunk. Where are you going?” I did not listen. I just tiptoed around the compartment and got off the train. Something was eating me from inside, slowly poisoning every part of me that ever felt alive. I was dragging my feet on the roads. I could hear vehicles honking, drivers shouting, and the madness that this city is. 

Crawling, I made my way to the graveyard while tightly holding a white frock and a broken doll to my chest. It was almost midnight. Leafs were ruffling with breeze and there was no sign of any living being. I opened the gate, tearing through the silence of the night. I slowly started walking towards her. She was beautiful too, just like this frock. She was so precious…my sister, Ilina. She had big eyes and soft voice, and her laugh still echoed in my ears. 

I still remember that evening better than entire years. We were on the beach playing with sand, making sand castles. She loved to be around water. I got distracted while she walked towards the water. I realised it soon and ran towards her.

“ILINA! DON’T GO THERE!” She looked back and laughed playfully. 

I ran towards her, as fast as I could. I jumped in the sea. I tried finding her. 

“ILINA! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Waves brought back a white frock to me. It was hers. It was too late. I lost her. It is my fault. I was there at the beach the entire night trying to find her. I just wanted a glimpse of her eyes for one last time, if nothing else. I was howling and screaming. I was screeching her name but there was no sound except the sound of waves.

A teardrop rolling slowly on my right cheek brought me back. 

I could feel pain crawling on my skin, reminding me of what I did. They say you are allowed one mistake. But some mistakes change your life forever, some mistakes cannot be undone. Some mistakes are irredeemable. I let out a loud scream and fell on my knees. How can I apologise to her? She was just eight. I loved her more than I loved anyone or anything. 

I could feel the sun’s heat on my skin. I kissed her grave and then, I wiped my tears off. I started walking out of the graveyard. I will come again next year with her white frock and her broken doll. Maybe, she will call me and hug me. Maybe, I will kiss her cheeks. Maybe, I will pick her up. She will sleep holding my hands. Maybe, she will forgive me. 

If she does not come next year also, there is always year after that. 

- Rtr Hardik Nagar

I.P.P., Rotaract Club of NM College