"Wish you knew, I stayed up in storm."
The words both my parents were conveying seemed to not register in my head. Not that the words were unclear but my mind seemed to convert it into somes foreign which stopped my intellectual power.
Their was a strange feeble excitement in Mom's way of carrying out the conversation. She looks so excited and the same goes with dad. And thats frightened me.
"His name is Rishi Banerjee, and works in an IT company. Actually, he is your dad's friend son, and he would be a perfect match for you." Mom chides out, over excitedly.
I gulp the lump forming in my throat.
Marriage? Perfect match?
My hand were sweating profusely, and my chest squeezes painfully every time their impatience glistening eyes flicker infront of me. This is to much to take.
Just a few hours ago, I's in the arms of a man who kidnapped me, forcefully married me, and then allowed me to stay with my parents, secretly taking me on date. And my parents out of blue act like a cupid, encouraging me to meet someone with marriage on my mind.
"Kiraz!" Dad calls out, making me flinch.
"Are you okay?" His eyes softened with worry lacing on his gestures.
"Uhm yes!" I dab my knuckles on my forehead to remove the nonexistent sweat, or to give myself a reality check.
"Isn't it too early for me. I'm yet to complete my graduation," Then pause to think out a better word to conclude a full stop to the budging topic,"and yess I'm still coping up with the traumas and I don't intend to add any other person in the maze through which I am still trying to find my ways out."
I end only for my mother to voice out,"Kiraz you have to move on." Her tone is harsher than she intended which alarmed dad to squeeze her hand. They both glance at each other, as if verbal was not possible so they opted for eyes communication.
"Look child! It happened four years ago and forget it. It's not your fault. It was the destiny and believe me nobody was to be blamed." Mom fortes.
I internally wince, how easy for the bystanders to say move on. Like I will sleep after the strom and the next moment I wake up I'll have to forget it, the hostilities between the past and present.
"Do give it a thought? We wouldn't pressure you, in taking any decision now. I know it's a big step so think with an open mind considering your present and future." He speaks discreetly.
Then sliding a brown envelope on the coffe table infront of me. I eye that piece of paper with a perplexed expression, kept on the brown surface.
Allegedly, sensing my befuddlement, dad says,"It has the picture of Rishi. In case you you want to see him, to get better understanding of the situation."
Okay, I get it they didn't have in view to pressure me but out of blue they say me to meet him and then changing it to give it a thought and the next moment they slid the picture of that man infront of me. Levels of hypocrisy is shining in my parent today.
I nod at them, passing them a clipped smile,"Good night."
Taking the envelope, in my fisted hand, I make my way upstairs.
"All the best sissy." Shivam stands leaning midway of the stair case, his tall lean body towering over me.
He passes me a smug look. Sometimes, no not sometimes every time this sibling of a hilarious man stands infront of me my all patience just blast out. At this point, I just want to throw him in Mariana trench with the satisfaction of seeing him being grilled as the water creatures feast.
"Move away." I grit out.
He lifts himself from the leaned posture, giving me the passage to move, casually adding,"Sure lady."
my lady.
I shake the emitting voice at the back of my head.
Suddenly everything feels heavy. And that heaviness as though is glued on your shoulder. How much you shake yourself or try to divert the origins of your thought it has to come, gushing down repeating the same cycle, where the dipression mixing with overthinking and birthing anxiety.
I bolted the door, keeping the envelope on my study table. Then launching myself on the bed. Closing eyes, to let the sleep come over, but I guess it ditched me.
After few toss and turns, when the sleep still not visited me, I slid the drawer of my side table. Streching my hands to fish out the box, Reyansh gifted me. Opening the small yet classy boxs lid, I let my curiousity dwell in.
A necklace. It had a small dainty figure of a bird.
At this I instinctively rise up and moved towards the mirror.
Taking the shiny chain, I hook it up against my neck, the bird locket falling right at the middle, blooming thrills of excitement and amusement for his sense of choice. For a man, he sure keeps a tab on trends of female delightment.
Not bothering to take it out, I search for my phone. Which lies near the brown creased envelope carelessly. Don't know why but just the image of the khaki envelope, and my thoughts tend to put me in panic. Knowing how much of this situation can get serious and the more I delay the more I would be giving my parents to build a strong grip on the thin line of hope, they are holding.
Nibbling on my lower lips, I contemplated on either calling him or messaging him. Or rather thanking him in persons. I have this feeling, that I am acting worse than a teenage hormonal hiked girl. It's only 12am, it wouldn't bother him if I call. But he will then have the precise of me as the desperate one. Its better to message. But the real question comes.
What?
Should I ask him about his dinner or directly thank him for the necklace or just text a good night.
And then add a good date night.
The date was really something that I want to relive again and again. My mind gave ideas on ideas but hardly any fitted in the situation. So I just choose a simple good night, with a moon emoji.
I tossed the phone somewhere far out of my reach so that for every one second, I don't sprint on the poor device, waiting for his reply..
The buffing ring of my alarm wake me up. I groan searching for it, to switch it of so the annoying noise could stop torturing my sensitive ears, spiking my irritation. After few shuffling I found it lying inbetween the fisted circle of my blanket.
Oh no, I am already late.
Until my counted days in Kolkata, I want to resume something which gives me peace. That happens to be dancing.
Taking a quick shower, I sprint down fast in my steps to exit my house.
It's still early, and, to my relief the milkman and newspaper man accompanied me as a pedestrian on the isolated street. With Reyansh I developed this strange fear of empty streets.
I enter the compound of the old house, knocking on the worn off green paint door. The mist of morning and the faint muffled thumping on the tablas reverberated outside of the room. Soon the door is opened letting the rhythmic sound opens for my listening capability.
A women dresses in red saree, with a big red bindi on her forehead peers at me.
"You are late!" She maintains the same stoic expression which I am used of seeing since my childhood. The straight face.
"I am sorry." I mumbled quietly, entering when she steps aside.
Like me, there were other young girls and boys who were tapping their feets, with the tat-tta of clapping of hands.
Keeping my bag aside, I join the line, standing second from back. Swatting my knees, I let my open palm touch the ground, to show my gratitude towards the bhumi, mother earth.
Then lifting my hands closer to my collarbones, I let my feets tip-tap on the floor with the gurumaa's voice.
In the middle, a stick taps on my belly. And I knew what to do.
"Straighten your posture, and lift your head." She voice out strictly. And I copy.
"Everyone keep a straight face, then slowly let your eyes do the work and at the end being out emotions on your face. Remember,"
That kathak is a story telling, bring out your own expression but with the influence of tablas. Let your story enact through your hand gestures and your feet knows your aggression. I chant in my mind the same words which has been permanently fixed in my brain.
"Kiraz, lift your eyebrows." And I do the same.
After two hours of sheer practice of footing percussive, did diverted my mind opening doors for new thoughts.
I touched gurumaa's feet, smiling at her i excused myself.
"Kiraz" I turn to face her fully.
Her thick braid kept on her shoulder, she tilts her face to look at me.
"You looked blanked today."
I bit my lips, knowing I am caught up "Uhm, sorry for that."
She raises her brow, a sign indicating she is waiting for more. "Uhm, I am a bit not myself these days, that's why." I scratch my hands casting my eyes down.
"Yourself? Since the four years you had been anything but yourself. Anyways, I must add with blankness I saw something more."
I stray my gaze on her,"What?"
"Hope."
Hope for a better future?
Or
That I've got someone to rely on.
Mom opens the door. She raises her eyebrow questioning me, but then shrugs. What is she trying to indicate. I roll my teeth between my lips, but hardly bit it when my eyes falls on the kept bouquet on the coffe table. I take the red roses, sniffing the addictive frenzy smell.
"Who gave it?" I lift the bunch flaunting it infront of my eyes.
"I don't know, maybe somebody form your father's office. It does have a card to. But just a small Good morning. It's lying infront of the door."
Is it from Reyansh. I bit my lips to subdue the growing blush and shock morphing on my face.
However, it soon disappeared when mom didn't planned to keep her eyes shooting calculative gaze from my face. I gave her the attention she was asking for.
"What mom?"
"Did you decided anything?" She convey.
"About that, then it's a no." I said straight away, didn't felt like beating around the bush and giving them false hope.
Perhaps, she didn't settled for a no, and started sending me arrows of her why with her glares.
"And why a no, can I know that. Since you have this strange habit of keeping everything confined into you." She taunts.
I knew she is hurt and to mask it she is using blackmailing with twisting my flaws.
"I share everything with you."
She nods her head, once again giving me
'I known, how much you share' look.
"Really?"
I nod my head moving past her. Its better to move away from her reproachful eyes because I know where the conversation is driving to.
"Then tell me what happened on the 14th July. That broke my daughter so much that she" she chocked on her words, yet my mind continued mocking me,
Choose to suicide. Let the life go out of her body.
A silent tear falls out of my eyes. It felt like someone was just piercing my heart saying to tend my wounds but forgetting their tending is acting the work of knife.
"I can't." Breathing a little, I let out.
"Why? Am I not a good mother that you can't even share about your things. Why have you conceal everything inside your heart. And sworn to never let anyone even walk through it. What's my fault Kiraz."
Even though I couldn't she her, I know her shoulders would be shaking as she would be trying hard to control her cries. And I didn't turn, I showed my back when I should be the one comforting her.
"I shared everything, with the psychiatric."
She scoffs,"Yeah! With a stranger, but not with whom who brought you in this world."
"I don't want you to hate me." I move my frozen feet to get away from the scene. Just like always running, to sooth the relentless memories and put a stop to it.
"A mother can never hate her child." I hear her words loud and clear but something prickles in me. Pausing, I turn over my shoulder, locking my eyes with her rimmed red eyes, I call out slowly.
"But a human can. And I don't want to loose the person who doesn't looks at me with the same eyes I look at myself. I can't bear that."
••~~••
So much to take. The suspense is getting to much, should I reveal.
Hope you like the chapter.
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Published: 20May,2023.