Part II: Blooming of love of fire.
Moment. A chaos, a documentation of passing minutes.
A fact that we are still living, seeing the scene unfolding before us, and having the sense of pleasure that we are somewhat a part of it.
Or a truth that, we're watching the scene with glittering eyes, knowing we can only capture it, because it'll never be the same and we're just watching it to leave it back and conclude it as one of the golden treasures of our life. As memories. Accepting even if it's bad.
But its starting to creep in me, that moments can be repeated, the déjà vu, the same nostalgia, the same whispers of uncertainty in my thought. The same fear, everything same. The old me, the new scene, the old moment. Here I'm sitting infront of the mirror, my reflection watching me, wearing the red saree, my mehndi cladded hands, putting the bindi, completing my look. I know the outside will be a mayhem, matching my disarray thoughts.
The door opens, making my thoughts to tune down into silence. I sigh, a breath.
"Kiraz are you ready?" Parvati maa calls out for me.
I lift my head matching her adored eyes. She smiles, her red lips spreading, into a peaceful glint. She leans forward her jewellry dangling infront of her chest, as she kisses my forehead. "The most beautiful bride of my Reyansh."
She stands straight, saying," Lets go. Everyone's waiting for us." She bends taking my sweaty hand in her dry one. I stay rooted, not moving an inch. Sensing my resistance, her face seizes down in panic.
"What happened? Is something bothering you." Her voice shaky. My thoughts.
I stay quiet. She shakes our cupped hands, repeating the same question. Can I trust her, knowing the possibility of her sliding with her son. "What happened Kiraz. You take me as your mother. You can share anything with me?" Her voice filled with worry.
"Can you help me in running, away?" I utter, without knowing the impacts, I utter without acknowledgment, and it's too late to take them back. The grip of her hand on mine, loose and slips away. Shock registers on her so as on me. I gulp the lump, chocking my throat.
"How can you say that? How can you ask a mother to destroy her owns son happiness. A mother is strong, but not that much to watch her children crumbled like a sandcastle." Her voice quivers. I look away, not able to match the intensity of her eyes. Why I always choose to run? Why I'm so vulnerable in the hands of my emotions? Why for once I can't let go the pain of past, and give damn about it. Why can't I stop judging them on the basis of my past. Why, God why?
Tears stick at the corner of my eyelid.
"Kiraz he loves you. I know my child, if he allows someone in his heart, you hold the crown of his everything. I am talking from my experience, I lost him, I lost that crown, but you have it. I know, he did a blunder mistake, and punish him, bend him on his knees but not like that. By taking his life. By bruising his feeling, infront of the world. His heart is of a wolf, and his anger is of a dragon, will burn everything." She rise up, on her knees.
Her words creating clots of shivers in my veins.
"Talk to Reyansh. It might help you." Yes, it's right. I rapidly nod my head. She pats my head, my eyelid drops, and she wakes away.
When silence breaks in, the bluntness my words created sounds heavy, even more than my words.
My heart thumps in my chest, nervousness creeping in, causing me to fist my hand. When the door open for the second time, I've the feeling who is it. The heavy footsteps and the musky scent, portrays the image of him in my mind. I instantly, cover my face with the red dupatta.
"Why didn't you ran away?" His voice distant.
He is aware of the reality.
I stand on my wobbly legs, clenching the corner of the vanity table, whirling to look at him. Even though my sight is hazy, because of the flimsy fabric of the dupatta, I can detect his deamour, dressed in ivory sherwani, his back to me.
"Wouldn't you look at me?" I whisper, in the heavy room.
"Giving you a chance, to run away. If I look at you now, I could never stop myself from letting you go." I could feel the heaviness of his voice, and see his tensed back.
"Not before you answer my questions? Not before you make it easy for me to reset my future with you. Unless you promise me, I wouldn't be able to stay with you."
"What promises, Kiraz? That, I wouldn't leave your hands, when you yourself is not ready to hold mine. Or that one, that you'll stay with me when I agree on your conditions. A marriage of conditions? If that you ask for, okay name it." Each word he grints down, becomes that hard to swallow them.
What should be I asking. That he will or must respect me, or must agree on my every wish, or I should have the mobility to do anything. The thing isn't about me. We both would be the equal one in the marriage. Wouldn't we be?
I sink in a breath, calming the whirlpool of my emotions.
"Promise me, that this marriage will not suffocate me?"
"I don't make promises, they would just cage your hope. Mark it as a deal!"
Indeed a businessman, my lips curls a little up.
"I'm the shattered sand, would you give your patience to collect each particle."
"Deal!" He complies.
"My emotions, is a heavy crown, would you able to bear it on your head?"
"I had kiss it and keep it on my throne."
"Why didn't you ever ask for forgiveness for your actions?"
"Does the nature, ask sorry to the animals when the weather becomes too hot for the little creatures to bear. It doesn't because, it can't speak. But it knows how to accept his mistakes. It makes the rain come, it makes the breeze dance with them, it spreads fruits for them. And I am no different, Kiraz. I didn't learn to say sorry for my mistakes, my actions but taught to correct them, redeem and salvage them. I am no gentleman. I am the epitome of evilness, darkness, there are many things about me you don't know. And trust me, they made my mother hate me for who I'm today. I give you the choice today," he pauses, his next words scare me, goosebumps erupts on my skin but I know he will be there to trace his warm love on me.
"Will you stay or run away, my lady?"
The day passed, each evolving to only pass away. I witnessed every sun every phase of moon, the sky helding them against their arms. I watched my least favourite season. The rainy season.
I don't even know, and the time slipped away. The air which carried the humidity, now replaced it with coldness, announcing another season. The leaves started changing colors and some even slipped when they can't bear the fierce winds. The dried one crunching under my heels, the same naughty wind, carried a silent errie, spreading in the corners of the street of Kolkata.
The breeze took away some of the red vermillion, with them, leaving them as trails behind our back. Women dressed in white and red border saree, carry the taal filled with sindoor, vermilion and sweets and betel leaves, rushed towards the huge pandal, whose huge peak, can even be look from half a kilometer.
It's the day of Vijayadashmi, the last day of our durga maa, the marking end of durga puja, of this year.
The last ritual of every begali, Sindhoor Khela, Vermilion Play.
"Kiraz, this way?" Maa, who is walks beside me, calls out, beckoning me to the other gate of the pandal. The sound of conch shell, and the bell reverberated in the pandal, mixing with the chattering of happy women, who simmers vermillion on each other face. Mom takes me towards the towering idol of maa durga, beside whom the life size idol of Kartikeya, Ganesh, Saraswati and Lakshmi. And mahishasura, who lays under her feet. The priest takes our taal and simmers the vermillion on her feet and returns it back.
I whirl around, watching the pleasant faces, laughing mouth and excited eyes of women, who each year comes here to pray for their husband life from any evil eyes.
This year I came. Willingly.
A lady in her swinging forty, drags us in the circle. The lady colors me in red, matching it with my red saree, filling my forehead with the red sacred powder.
Laughter of mine, mixes with others as we all continue coloring each other. I'd always thrown a tantrum, when I was twelve years, when mom didn't take me to the Sindhoor khela, saying how I'm little, and must have a husband. But the fact was that, I would get lost in the crowd. And my childish mind used to always, pray durga maa, to bring my husband fast, so I can be a part in this ritual. I turn my head, to the Matas face, smiling at her.
She did complete my wish. And I wish once again, to make me come here again and again.
"Ereh, Payal. How are you?" a lady, the same age of my mother, calls her. "Oh, Rupali, I'm fine. How are you?" Mom utters. Now two ladies, have meet which indicates the digging of news of our society.
I breath a sigh, catching her eyes.
"Kiraz you're also here. Payal I heard about your daughters marriage. You didn't cared to invite your good friend to your daughter marriage. I'm so hurt." She chatters.
Good friend? My foot! She is a snake in disguise. Wasn't she the one, who call out names on me, when she saw me and Reyansh. I narrow my eyes at her, causing her to stop her incredulous laugh. Mom grabs my wrist, making me soothe my gazes.
"It's a small affair." Mom tries to dismiss the topic.
"Kiraz, where is your husband? I never saw him." Here comes the noisy lady's noisy daughter-in-law.
"He went to his hometown. He has to manage the business. You see he's really a busy man, and doesn't like wasting his time, unlike someones." I chide. Her eyes widen a little, but covers up with a forced smile. I return her gesture.
It's one and half month, since our marriage. In this one month, Reyansh stood beside me, watching me get my degree and attending my dance program. Well it's safe to say that my marriage life is sailing safe and slow. It was only back three weeks ago, when he has to return back, as there was some crisis in the business. Due to which, he's not able to enjoy, durga puja.
It is my first ritual after marriage, and the void of my husband, is making my stomach unsettle. Leave it! I will also not pick up his calls, he didn't even bother me with a call, not even a single text. Is he feed up with me, or annoyed at my constant nagging, of how I want him here. But its my first ritual. Shouldn't I be excited. Huh, I swear I will not pick up his call.
I flinch, when my phone vibrates in my bag. Balancing the plate in one hand, and with the help of my hiked knees, I fish out my phone. The red vermilion paints my phone, but the name catches my face in blush.
I quickly, slide the screen, afraid he will hang up.
"Looks like someone is so eager to pick the call within one ring." His deep voice, comes from the speaker.
I bit my lips, hearing his soft chuckle.
"Eager!" I scoff. "I didn't knew that it was you calling me. And, why did you called me? Now you remembered of having a wife." I taunt, my tongue hot with anger.
"I thought you want to meet me. But looks like," his voice trails away in silence.
He is here. "You are here. Sothi!"
Again, his deep chuckle comes."Haah, sothi. Turn right from where you are standing."
I do as he tells me, and walks among the sea of crowd. And catch the sight of the familiar figure, leaned on the car. Reyansh wears, a red kurta, looking ravishing as ever. My heart skids, with each step I take towards him. Each steps grews confident, when I watch his glistening eyes staring just at me. Only me.
And moments like this, makes me never regret staying. The red color feels both of our cold hearts with blooming arrivals of warmth. Promising to accompany us in the upcoming winter, embracing us with warmth.
••~~••
We are reading about a Bengali, must get to read a festival of it.
Hope you like it? A new beginning, a new part. Do comment your views and do vote. It makes my day.
Published: 13July,2023.