I went to that little village again. Every thing seemed as if it was six years back. In cities where life is always on rails, things change every minute but here it was as if time had given the gift to these villagers to stay in that same moment. I stop my car in front of the small tea shop and walk up to dark stout man stationed near the stove and order him to bring a cup of tea. As I sip my tea, I remember my last visit. I put my cup down and decide to walk towards the main road again. The sky would be getting purplish in few hours and I will need to seek shelter in the only place available in that village. I shake my head a little and slowly guide myself towards the trees on the left side of the road. I still remember the same tree and broad scratch mark on its trunk.

It was not only the mark on the tree but the mark on my life which was embedded in the corner of my memories. I closed my eyes and remember her sweet face. She was smiling at me. That day we had a small argument on her taking so much time in getting ready. Reluctantly she sat beside me and I sat behind the wheel and we set on. We had crossed 129 Km milestone. Yes I remember that little piece as I was the one who looked back for a second and everything was away from my hands. Suddenly I saw a truck coming and lost control of my steering and crashed to a nearby tree off-road. 

We were taken by the local villagers to the only dispensary. The doctor tried everything but could only save me, but my wife went away from me forever. As I move my finger over the scratch mark left on the tree by our car, I feel myself guilty for not being able to save her. I close my eyes once again and her scent fills me completely. It is as if she is part of the trees, the road, the village and the woods and I open my arms to take her and she comes to me as she always does.