Touched

A Short Story
========================

He lay on the double bed with only the sound of rotating fan above disturbing the serene silence around. He looked at his mobile. 1:00AM and still no sleep. If he does not sleep now tomorrow would be hell. He had meetings and schedules to keep. He closed his eyes. He hoped to drift in his sleep effortlessly but sleep was hard to come. He realized that he was forcing his eyes to shut and he needed to relax. He relaxed his body trying to drift into sleep again but a feeling of uneasiness seems to block his mind.

The sound of the fan above was a big disturbance now. His mind wandered to the days gone by. Life had become so mechanical. Getting up, going to office, project schedules, coming back, traffic, eat and sleep. Weekends were spent again in the office. Life had become a routine, a bloody schedule. He turned on his side, his eyes open, wide open.

He hadn’t had a descent conversation with anyone, since a long time now. Actually he didn’t have people to call friends now, only colleagues. They are fashionably called office friends but the only thing they talk about is project, deadlines and new technology.

He just hated it but then it was his job. He remembered the time when he would sit with his friends in college and then they would talk, actually talk and not discuss. They would talk about everything under the sun, almost everything. But then jobs and years later, everyone became busy. Friends drifted apart. Now he had only colleagues, no friends.

He thought about his parents back home. He though about his mother. He remembered how she used to lovingly move her hands over his head when he slept. She never did that when he was awake. He continued to sleep all his worries and problem disappeared with her touch. He was missing her. Now the empty house reminded him of his emptiness all along.

He looked at the watch. 2:00 AM. He was in trouble if he did not sleep now. He turned to the other side at the edge of the bed. He was still using only one side of the huge double bed. The other half was reserved for her, the only girl he had loved. But she was gone, gone for many years now. Still he did not use the other half, always left it unused. What for? She was not going to return.

He remembered how he slept after a hard day, in her arms. She would sing for him, softly, her body close to him. They would lay on the bed, in the dark, in each other arms. Her touch would make him secure, protected. He had not slept peacefully even months after she had left, his body carving for her touch, her presence.

He slowly shifted to her half, the side which was never to be occupied after her; her unoccupied half. He curled and hid his face inside his own body trying to feel secured, protected drifting to a peaceful sleep

He had not been touched for a long time!