Note: This takes place during the initial days of Angad and Sahiba's marriage following the night Angad misbehaves with her.In this version,Manveer does not look her in the storeroom and she manages to escape while Angad passed out.
The night was quiet and no one was about as she glided through the courtyards of the mansion like a ghost under the moonlight.She dared not go back to her room lest he came to his senses and tried hurting her again.She passed fountains and gardens before she finally found her way to the swimming pool.Against her better judgement,she walked right to the edge and peered into it's depths.It glistened an inky blue under the full moon ,high in the sky.It reminded her of one of her art projects.
When she had discovered a battered pot lying in their attic.Her mother had been insistent on throwing it away yet she had begged to be allowed to keep it.
"That pot is like me ,battered and hammered.Maybe if I managed to turn it beautiful,someone would love it and buy it.And it means someone will love me the same."
Atleast that's what her naive twelve year old self thought.With that goal in mind,she had become obsessed with painting.Refusing to mess up the pot,she had opted to practise the design and perfect it before she applied the brush on her subject.She'd spent days cooped up in the attic , brainstorming the most perfect design she could envision.Seerat and her mother had just laughed at her antics,calling her a fool for wasting her time on a broken and leaky pot.
Fine,I'll show them.This pot will be as good as any one bought in the huge antique showroom down the road.
Finally, inspiration had struck one night as she'd laid down on the terrace,looking at the stars,lost in thought .For a change ,no one had bothered her.Not Keerat asking for an extra hug or Seerat bothering her with her makeup for her school pageant.She had started tracing the pattern made by the moonlight on the beams crisscrossing their railings.They had seemed to dance as the moon herself simmered and shone in symphony.
Without realising it,she had started tapping her finger rhythm and had soon found herself dancing to an imaginary orchestra inside her head.For one she had been the centre of attention and love .The moonlight had truly loved her she'd thought as her feet tapped the ground and her hips swayed.Someone had finally found her worthy to look at and love.And if her pot was just as beautiful,maybe her mother might love her as much as she did Seerat di.
It had taken her a week to finish her masterpiece and she had been proud of herself.She'd placed the pot on a table in the living room,bolting upstairs in search of her mother,covered head to toe in paint.Dragging her downstairs,she had been met with a rude shock.A very guilty looking Seerat had been standing next to the shards of her pot .She had felt her eyes burn with unshed tears.She'd turned to her mother,hoping for comfort.
"Don't worry about the pot Seerat . Good riddance if you ask me.Why would anyone want a broken pot ?"
As she stood near the edge of the pool,lost in memories,she held up her arms to observe the bruises and scratches.They gleamed a bright red under the stars.
Why would anyone want a broken pot?
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