Posted:
This is my first attempt at a one shot especially about that closed drawer that ragini refuses to share with anyone...it intrigued me and many of us ...hence have written a simple version of that scene for all my friends who have been requesting me to write for some time...
With love
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depths of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more."
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Tears from the depths of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more."
Alfred Lord Tennyson
It should not be difficult,she thought as she finally closed the bedroom door behind her.The sanity of her private space still prevailed and she needed it ,more so now after the events of the day,the endless day .A decision was taken ,clauses were set and everything went back to being the the same.She could still hear her mother in the kitchen clearing up,nishi was finally sleeping,excited,happy and exhausted,Pam had left after dinner ,insisting on helping ,with everything ...what has come over her suddenly,it puzzled her but right now her tired frame refused to indulge in the happenings of the day ,refused to indulge the man who had suddenly ,once again become the center of her everything ...
Absently she walked towards the chest of drawers and opened it...her hand searching ,until it fell on the small box hidden in the corner..she removed it..it was like a ritual for her ,every night as she closed her day...or was it her torment ...she would decide another day.
As she opened the box with her hesitant fingers ,it once again unwrapped a time ,an era by gone ,lost ,buried ,dead...yet looking down in the box,her fingers trembled,her eyes filled up and her heart was pounding ...softly her hand touched the content,lingered over it as if each little thing had a story to tell and she had all the time to listen to it once again just like past 16 years ...she was not tired of it,of the faded box,of the rusty smell ,of the creaking lid ,she never would.
It was all dried up,his rose as she said ,the first rose he gave her and which she vowed to throw away,the fragrance of hope still lingered,
the pieces of broken glass bangles,he had gifted her these on their wedding night ,because she loved them so,she had vowed never to remove them as he made her wear them...it was the first thing that broke when he left her,yet she could not throw them even if it hurt her again and again...
the black beads of her mangalsutra,which she had pulled off her neck,vowed to erase all meaning it had ,sprinkled across her palm like tear drops
the piece of paper now turning yellow ,ink fading yet she could recite the words without a pause, his inane words ,lyrics ,an attempt to be a poet for her
and then her eyes fell on the bundle..still neatly wrapped and tied with a ribbon...as she removed them ,caressed them and held them close to her heart...
The letters ,every one of them for the lack of courage to post them ever, what if he throws them away,what if he laughs at them ,what if he chooses not to reply...yet she wrote ,for very season she wrote ,every year she wrote ,telling him how she waited ,for him to ring her doorbell, how she ran, as the phone rang,how she hoped ,the postman would come to her house bearing his news ,she was waiting for him, her legs were tired ,her eyes were tired ,yet her hope refused to die ...she would wait as long as it takes for him to come but she would wait...tumhari ragini.
It all came crumbling down as she wept quietly ,holding the bundle ,holding the box ,her world,her hope ,her story...she should throw them now ...just not yet,not today..maybe another day...
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