Today was 26th December. My birthday would start at 12 midnight. I had decorated my room with balloons, since I knew Rihana would make some excuse, and come to meet me. She had promised me two days back that she would be with me on my birthday. All arrangements were done. I had brought her favorite Black Forest cake, and got both our names written on it. These might seem like small things, but go a long way in winning the hearts of girls.

The TV in my room was showing a news channel, as I had a habit of watching news at night. As I was putting candles on the cake, a news on the TV completely shook me. It was the news of Rihana’s death. Rihana, daughter of Akbar Khan, owner of the biggest Publication House in Delhi had committed suicide. For a moment it seemed as if I was watching a bad dream. I changed several channels, but every channel showed the same news. This was the biggest betrayal of my life. This was the gift she had given to me on my birthday. She had lied to me that she worked in a Call Centre. I was madly pursuing Publishers, not knowing that she owned the biggest publication house. I threw the remote on a wall in anger, and kicked the cake, which got splashed on the front wall.

How could she cheat me? I wasn’t able to convince myself. My heart was filled with much more hatred, than it ever had love for her. I kept asking myself – Why did she do this to me? Why? 

I had seen on TV that they had taken her to AIIMS. I ran down, and on my bike straightaway went to the hospital. 

The hospital was overcrowded. People from all strata of society were present. I wanted to go inside the hospital, but people stopped me. I was shouting like a mad man, begging them to let me see her for the last time. In an instant I had lost everything in my life. She was my world. But people didn’t care about my emotions. My screams filled the air, but no one cared.

Suddenly, a man came towards me, making way through the crowd. He must have been around fifty years of age, six feet in height, wearing white kurta-pyjama, with kajal (kohl) in his eyes. He was coming towards me. I could guess that he would be Akbar Khan, Rihana’s father. 

He came and stood in front of me, his eyes fuming with anger, as if I had murdered his daughter. A man standing next to him tried to calm him down.

“This is not the right time, Khan Saheb. The whole media is here.”

I didn’t know what he implied, but after staring at me for a while, Akbar Khan went away. A little later I saw Rihana’s body being taken away for burial. The ambulance was followed by Akbar Khan’s car followed by a stream of cars. Behind all of them I was on my bike. In this cold weather, I was wearing just a shirt, driving my bike. But I was not feeling any cold. There were a lot of questions in my mind, but Rihana was not in the world to give me answers.

The ambulance took her to the burial ground. I knew that the people who had not let me see her in the hospital, would never let me come near her grave. I stood outside the graveyard, waiting for the people to leave. A few hours later all had left, only the security guard remained. I approached him, and asked,

“Can I go inside? The girl who was buried a little while ago, was my best friend. Can I go to her grave and pray for her?”

No one would say no to such a request. He opened the gate.

“Come back fast.” He said.

Inside the graveyard, I could see graves everywhere. Without fear, I went to Rihana’s grave and sat down on my knees. I was crying inconsolably, asking just one question – why did she do this to me? There was no answer, of course. I said to her – I hate you more than I have ever loved you. I will offer flowers on your grave only when I get answer to my question.

I had already lost Bhayya-Bhabhi. Now even Rihana was not in this world. I had to live with this reality.

I had become completely alone. Twenty days had passed since Rihana died. With every passing moment, my hatred for her was increasing. I had still not got the answer as to why Rihana had snatched my happiness on my birthday. Knowing fully well that I was alone in this world, she had left me. I had started smoking. The whole day I would smoke, but her memories were more painful, than the smoke. 

I had almost given upon my dream to become a writer. Rihana always used to tell me that it was not just my, but our dream that I became a successful writer. But now she was not in this world. For whom should I become a writer? There was no one left to share my happiness. 

The whole day I would sit silently in the office. I only spoke when it was absolutely unavoidable. Tiwari ji had tried to motivate me to forget the past and start my life afresh, but it was not so easy. My heart wasn’t willing to listen. Perhaps this was love. When someone closest to you goes away, only you can feel the pain. 

Earlier I used to be very tense about not being able to find a publisher for my Novel. Now I was completely broken. I used to spend my maximum time either in office, or in my room. I had lost interest in everything else.