As she shut the cupboard and turned around, she was startled for a brief moment, almost frightened, as she caught her reflection in the full length mirror on the wall. It took Shruti a moment to connect the person in the mirror to herself, as if unaware of the effect of time passages on her face. She rarely indulged in studying her own reflection but today it was as if she was shocked into examining it. It was a Sunday and not a working Sunday either, so she had all the time in the world. It was not a pleasant face she realized. The face that she remembered as her own was possibly a memory created out of old photographs. The softness was gone now, along with the dreamy and slightly wistful eyes. Visits to the beauty parlour had ensured that the skin was unblemished and the lines ironed out, but the parlour couldn’t infuse happiness into her face. Without that, she looked older than her forty years. She tried to coax a smile out of her lips and failed miserably. My dear girl, a smile has to be spontaneous to light up your face. She said this aloud, indulging as she occasionally did, in a bit of talking to herself. She wasn’t crazy or anything like that but loneliness sometimes drove her to this. It felt like she was talking to someone, and she would rather talk to herself than talk to most people she knew. Colleagues at work mostly, with whom she had nothing to share more than work. Shruti’s parents lived in another city and even when they came to spend time with her, she used to feel lonely. She felt like she lived within a shell and she couldn’t really escape from it and reach out. She would try to act like she was enjoying having her parents over, even while she was secretly longing for the day when she would again have her tiny flat all to herself. Her mother had recently abandoned her attempts at getting Shruti married, after trying for almost fifteen years. She enjoyed seeing the guilt in her mother’s eyes because she ought to feel guilty for not having let Shruti marry the only man she had ever loved and wanted to marry. Life could have been very different, she knew, but it was a decision she took when her parents did not let her marry Rachit. Not only did they oppose the match, they humiliated him so much that he walked away from her life. Life could have been different, but she would rather forget about all her dreams than replace Rachit with someone else in all of them. Should she let the memories flow, or should she carry on with what she was doing when she had shut that cupboard door? She was planning to order some Chinese takeaway and watch ‘There Will be Blood’ on DVD. A leisurely Sunday left her feeling charged to cope with the madness of her job as an executive producer with a TV channel. If she let the memory flood gates open, she would get overwhelmed, and totally drained emotionally. She smiled at herself, marveling at her own capacity to control memories. The smile led to a slight laugh, and as the laughter grew, there was a hysterical edge to it.  She flung herself on her bed, the memories and tears both threatening to take control totally. She wondered why the pain felt so unbearable today, why it felt like someone was clawing at her innards. Then she remembered and wondered at the fact that she had forgotten. He had died this day, sixteen years ago. Sixteen years ago. A long time ago. A lifetime ago. She let herself weep her heart out, she let the heart rule, and somewhere in the reflection of the tear-stained face, she found traces of a more human Shruti.. She climbed over the rocks to access her favourite bit of the beach. It was mostly deserted because most people would take an easier route. She loved the spray that touched her face as an occasional wave reached the rocks. As she stepped into the water, the waves played around her ankles. She shut her eyes and enjoyed the feeling. Gradually she became oblivious of all the other sounds and just heard the sea. As she walked deeper and deeper into the water, her face relaxed and she almost looked happy. Overhead, the birds were flying home against a crimson sky. She turned around once to look at the shore. It was far away. There was no turning back, she knew.