Sangeetha Kamath

  I have no memory of who clicked this picture. I have no memory of even who this man sitting beside me is. Is he a dear friend, a husband…but then why don't I get the feeling that I'm a married woman? There was no wedding band on my finger when I regained my consciousness in a hospital room with strangers around me. He is looking at me now, worry and concern writ large on his face. Fishing out the wedding ring from his pocket, he said it was removed when I was taken into surgery. He has been saying so for the past one week. Should I believe him? If only I could get one hazy fragment of my past, I would. I turn my face and he sighs, slumping on a chair nearby. I return the picture to him apologetically. At the back of my mind, I do know that he must have been an acquaintance but in my current state of mind, I wasn't ready to accept just about anything, anyone told me. **** And then the inevitable has happened. It is  time to go home. 'Nolan' is here to do the needfu...