Only One Allowed

She had always been a normal sort. Not given to too many fancies. As she grew, this grew with her. She was never known to ruffle too many feathers, till the end of her life. Even as she lay, breathing her last, all that she thought of was the uneventful blur that was her life.

But one thing that she was never given to share, one thing that in her heart would always remain hers and hers alone, was her bed. This wasn’t philosophical or metaphorical. She hadn’t taken any secret vow to join a nunnery or anything. Her bed was something she thought of in the most absolute, literal sense. She spoke of her four-poster, with its chipped post and creaky hinges. Her bed was something that no one else could lay claim to. It was her inner sanctum, her place of absolute privacy and was designed to appear just as that. It was arranged with numerous cushions and a single, solitary pillow; a sign as clear as any that screamed loudly- ‘only one allowed’. A single bed sheet, a single blanket.

In the beginning, she didn’t encounter many problems. She was an only child and bypassed all those common squabbles that siblings unfortunately have to endure. But as she grew came the troubles. The relatives, the weddings, the funerals. And every time someone would appear in her doorway, a pillow in one hand, blanket in another and a fake smile on the face. And she would have to give up her queen bee position in the centre of her bed and be humiliatingly relegated to one side.

It was during these periods that she would defy her very own nature. She would be moody and irritated and annoyed. She’d stomp around the house and snap at people. But on the inside she would cry and wait longingly for when she could be alone again. She wasn’t a very private person on the outside though. She’d mingle and be nice, dance at weddings, attend lunches and get noticed by the mothers of eligible boys. And one day all of this paid off. One fine day, a boy arrived at her doorstep with his parents and the regalia that went with a proposal. A suitable boy. It didn’t take much longer after that.

Soon she was married and no longer a girl. As she stepped into her brand new house with her brand new husband at her side and her brand new family looking on, for the first time in her life, sleeping arrangements were not foremost on her mind.

But the ceremonies and rituals passed quickly and she was deposited in her brand new bedroom, on her brand new bed. It was then that she realised with a sinking heart. Her inner sanctum no longer existed. She would now share the most private part of her life with a complete stranger. Her husband came in and sat down on one side and asked her what was the most profound question of her life; “which side do you prefer?”

Time went by. She picked a side, had children, a family, a life. Her husband gave her a new view of life. It was no longer humiliating to sleep on the side but a sign of being equal. Being an equal was what she did for 46 years of her life. With her husband at her side, she fulfilled life and watched as she passed over the reins to the next in line. Her daughters left, making families of their own, her sons brought their families into her house. She watched grandsons and granddaughters as they began and went through the drudgery and joy of life.

And as these 46 years passed, she grew old and wrinkly and finally came to a day when she had to bury her husband. As he moved on, leaving her behind to follow in a few years, she realised with a start what she was going back to.

That night in her room she switched off the lights and opened the windows. In the soft glow of the moonlight, she tasted her salty tears. Tears of a lifetime gone by. As she removed the excesses she arranged the bed. Numerous cushions, one pillow. Single bed sheet, single blanket. As she lay down, leaving her side for the first time on 46 years, she cried tears for the loss of a great love and the return of a lesser one. Returning to the centre, she was reminded of a feeling that had been forgotten these past years out of habit. And as she finally fell asleep, she smiled for the renewal of that feeling. The feeling that gave her something to hold onto, to possess and never have to share again.