8. Beginning

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DEDICATED TO: kirthiquack HopeleesssBookworm

"Just as the blissful dawn announces the beginning of the day, the completion of a wedding simply flags off the journey called marriage."

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

18th August 

Third person's point of view:

The dawn that day wasn't marked by the usual golden rays of the sun. Instead, a dreary sky accentuated with dark clouds greeted the early risers. The air was breezy and the rain descended happily on the City of Joy. Amateur football players skidded on the wet and slippery green grass of Maidan while fitness enthusiasts walked along the stretch beside the acres of greenery. Some of them clutched umbrellas in their hands, attempting to shield their head from the rain. A few school kids who had morning school held on to the hands of their guardians as they walked to their respective bus stops, clad in raincoats, jumping over muddy puddles of water, pausing to check on a slimy frog or two.

The early morning breeze caused the wind chime in the bedroom to tintinnabulate. Mrinalini was the first one to wake up. She was late, late by her standards. The girl who usually woke up at dawn, by 5 a.m. every morning, rose at 6 that morning. The extra sleep had been much needed after the fatigue that had accumulated and enhanced over the last three days. She was at first dazed when the unfamiliar whitewashed ceiling stared back at her still sleep-laden eyes. She was lost for a moment, forgetting that she was in a new home altogether. A sudden movement that caused the duvet to shift away from her, made her turn to her left. 

Debarghya was asleep there, next to her. He was cold or so it seemed from the way his fist clutched at the end of the duvet which had been pulled up to his chin. 

Mrinalini abruptly got up from bed. The first thought that came to her mind was, 'So the marriage had been real'.

Waking up unceremoniously like any other day, she had initially thought that she was back in the one-story house in Entally, laying next to Rai. In reality, however, she was 7 kilometers away, in the same city, in a different home, laying next to the man to who she had been married.

She turned to check the time on the wall clock. She wasn't really bothered about waking up late, it was understood and accepted that her body desired some rest. She was quick to grab the duffel bag containing her toiletries and a towel, which had been brought to the room along with her suitcase. She would have to unpack after freshening up, for her clothes and then arrange them later during the day.

Mrinalini took precisely 15 minutes to brush her teeth, splash adequate water on her face, and select a sari that she could wear. 

The sari that she chose was semi silk and cotton one; 6 yards of handwoven fabric.

 It originally belonged to Rai. A red printed border, bright colors were considered inappropriate for widows. The sari was one of many; those which had been destined to remain confined to a shut trunk, for almost two decades. Now that Mrinalini was married, she had been given her mother's saris, several of them unused, unworn, and new, yet old, with age.

Mrinalini took 30 minutes in the shower, to pamper herself and to relax her muscles. She would have preferred some warm water, but the geyser had apparently given up. She shampooed her waist-length hair, taking her time to remove the stale stench of sweat. She took her time to remove the tangles that had appeared because of the consistent pulled-up buns, the strings of flowers, and the veils. 

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