It was raining hard , when I left my office. I noticed a girl sitting on a bench drenched in rain with a parchment in her hand .Her face was wet , not with the rain drops but with the tears that were escaping her eyes. I felt some unknown force that was pushing me towards her.
I came close and sat with her on the bench.
"Hey , why are you crying?"
She looked up with a strange expression on her face and then looked towards the parchment,
"Maybe , I could help you in solving your problem."
She said nothing and continued to look on the parchment where only tiny specks of ink were visible. I grabbed it from her realizing , maybe it was the cause of her pain. There among the speeded bolts of ink , i was able to read her name and the name of the hospital. It was some type of report...umm... a blood test report .
"Hey , Zamr ...my name is Talia. You will catch cold if you kept sitting here . Come on , we need to find a place to dry ourselves"
I grabbed her hand and took her to my home .I gave her my t-shirt and trousers.....and spreaded her clothes in front of fire, to let them dry. She was still grabbing that parchment in her hand like it was her only asset.
"Hey,Zamr you can share your problem with me. i know, i am a total stranger to you, but, believe me, you can trust me..maybe , we turn out to be best of friends"
"Today...I…I went to the hospital.....to...to collect my blood test reports....and..."
"I have blood cancer...it sat its last stage....it cannot be cured"
"oh...I…I don't know what to say."
"there is nothing much a person can say in this situation. ", she looked at me and smiled
"Maybe, there is some cure. I mean you should at least try to find one. I am sure you would get healthy again."
"You know ,Talia, I had read somewhere, "knowing your fate is one thing, but accepting it ,is another....", and, I think I had accepted it...I was crying not because i had a death sentence in my hand , but because , there is no one who will mourn on my death. I am alone. I just want some-one to remember me. Someone who can visit me in graveyard, once in a week, to put a flower on my epitaph. I don't want to be forgotten. Is that too much to be expected in return of hardships faced by me in life? "
"No, it isn't."
She stood ,looked in my eyes ,smiled and then, went out of my house.
After a week when I returned home from work , I found an awaiting letter.
I opened it, and it was from Zamr's neighbor:
"Zamr had given me your address , She told me if anything happens to her , I should inform you. Actually, she died yesterday...….."
There was an address of graveyard written in bold letters at the end of the page.
From that day on, I visits her in graveyard twice a week to sit behind her grave and to recalls the one and only memory of her possessed by me.I don't know why she was alone, where her relatives were, or why she had embraced the death with a warm smile not with teary face. But, i guess these questions are meaningless . I have an unspoken promise to keep.