A/N: So here goes the first Vignette! I have planned to write three as of now. :)
Happy Reading!
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Vignette 1: Dewy Tears
It was an icy evening and the entire city was lightened with sparkling wall lights and fibre optics covering the walls of the houses. With the New Year coming closer, there was a zing in the city. With so much of celebration going around her, she slowly walked up the stairs, stumbling in each and every step of hers. Her bright, cruor coloured saree was almost torn in all the possible places, making her trip down further. But still, she managed turning to the right side, towards the cloak room. There was an obscure calm all around the mansion. She reminisced how it was filled with happy voices and music all around the house, a month back. As she headed towards the room, her pallu almost fell as it swept the floor, with blood. She slowly sat inside the bathtub with her saree ensuing her. She was able to feel the hard tap behind her as she let the water flow inside the tub. The crystal clear water started flowing unceasingly as it started becoming bright red, because of the blood. Her heart was racing against time, the pressure going higher and higher as she looked at her own face, her eyes bloodshot.
She looked at her damp hair as her fingers trailed over her fore line, her sindoor vanishing slowly, tripping down through her nose. Her eyes were puffed up as they were growing even fiercer, boiling tears flowing through her cheeks along with the cold water. Her dry lips now became wet as her entire body was now cold, with the force coming along from both the sides of the tap. She was now devoid of her saree, for it flowing in the pool and adding colour to it. She looked at her hands and saw the blood getting lapped away.
What had happened? She thought. It was their first anniversary and she thought it'd be the most memorable day of her life. But what had happened? Why did that had to happen? Who would've have done that? A train of unanswered questions ran in her mind and the pain of not having an answer to them choked her heart, just like the smoke from the engines.
The water level now went up to her hips and little did she realize that. At that moment, only two things were constant. One was her tears flowing through her face to her neckline and two, her heart thumping heavier than ever. She couldn't breathe. She wanted to run away, far away from everyone around the world. The scene came in front of her, over and again in flashes as she started panting, her face growing warm. She heaved to suck in some air, something at least and couldn't feel anything. She felt numb, devoid of any sort of a sense in her body. She could hear her blood flowing inside her veins. The water level rose to her breasts as her blouse got soaked. She could see the water turning into blood. She wanted to scream, scream harder. She wanted to be heard. Heard by someone. She wanted him. She wanted him back.
She felt the thin line of water getting into her body through the little openings left in her body. Even though she felt wretched, she still hoped. Maybe, he'd return back. As the water level came up to her face, she felt like drowning in his blood. She looked around with a lot of exertion before closing the blow of the water. The flow finally stopped as she felt herself swaying inside the tub. Her eyes roamed around to see his blood, only with a higher concentration of water. Minutes later, she heard footsteps of someone coming up as she quickly got up, fixing her saree as she felt herself heavy. As she carried herself along, she was trembling in cold when she saw her brother approaching her.
"What have you done to yourself? He asked silently, holding her hand tightly into his.
"Nothing, Bhaiya. What happened? Any good news? she asked him politely, as always. The only difference was the emotion and grief. There was nothing this time. Purely, zilch.
"Huh! Ishani, listen to me... he held his breathe as he felt her hands trailing away from his.
"No, what happened? Is he okay? Tell me! her voice quivered, her lips trembling as the tears trundled hastily from her already enflamed eyes.
He looked at her sopping clothes and her clammy hair, and her plum coloured face. She looked horrifying. He couldn't afford to tell it to her. Yet, he tried.
"Ranveer's home. He said, as her eyes brightened for a fraction. But it soon vanished with his subsequent expression.
"For one last time.
Her heart died. She wished she had breathed her last, too.
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A/N: Done! Constructive Criticism is more than welcome and sorry for typos :)
Edited by Bloomfield - 8 years ago
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Cricket
