Manmarziyan
The rain came down in great torrents. The clouds had been growling in a rather menacing manner all afternoon. But Paro hadn't believed that it would rain; she was so used to disappointments.
So when it started pouring, and Kaki Sa began shouting about the clothes drying on the terrace-- her voice competing with the whistling gusts of wind, and slamming window panes-- Paro ran up the narrow staircase leading to the terrace.
Smiling softly as the first drops of rain splattered on her cheeks and forehead, she whipped around the clotheslines, pulling chunaris, skirts, sarees, shirts, and kurtas off them with practiced ease.
She had worried herself sick over the past month. Today, the darkening skies had broken a dam within her. She'd paced around restlessly all morning. Now, racing against the rain and winds, she fought a losing battle-- but oh, it was exhilarating.
It reminded her of the day he'd come to her and finally declared her Not Guilty.
It must have been a week after Sunaina had been found.
She knew nothing of the BSD's investigative procedures. So she did not know what had finally convinced Rudra that she was blameless. She had occasionally suspected that he no longer hated her as virulently as he had done at first. But to have him come up to her and gruffly admit that he'd been wrong, and that she was a victim who was free to go, had taken an enormous burden off her soul. Knowledge of one's innocence was shallow comfort, Paro had realized. Her conscience may have been clear, but her heart had been heavy.
His pronouncement had changed that. For the first time since her captivity, she'd felt allied. He may not have said it out loud, but she'd known anyway. She was no longer his responsibility as a witness and possible conspirator in an act of treason. She was his responsibility as a citizen-- a woman whom he was acquainted with and knew to be innocent. And it made a world of difference-- to her at least.
Did that mean she had immediately signed up for the BSD fan-club? Not by a long shot-- especially not after what had happened in the wake of that incident.
Paro shook her head, trying to physically push her memories into a corner of her mind where they would gather dust and perhaps eventually be forgotten.
She wouldn't let them taint these rare moments of joy and peace. What was done was done, and she had made her peace with the past. Well...she was trying to.
Bundling the clothes under her arm, she paused at the threshold of the terrace and turned back to look at the sky. She closed her eyes and sent a quick prayer up to the heavens.
Let it rain wherever he is. Let it bring him peace. Protect him. And tell him that I think of him often.
Making her way down the staircase, Paro shrugged to herself. No point in pretending otherwise.
[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqSrWi2GqQA[/YOUTUBE]
This song may be a little premature at this point, but the melody, I think, matches Paro's mood perfectly.
Also, I hadn't really anticipated writing so many drabbles so quickly, so thank you to everyone who reads-- silently or otherwise. I appreciate the encouragement so much. 😊
Tu Juliet Jatt Di
Geet - Hui Sabse Parayee
