DEDICATED TO:    Priyadarshini2001 CarpeDiem_LA01 manasacs

"If life were a bed of roses;

devoid of thorns, scented and sweet,

would we be nestled in the warm sheets,

of petals soft, and rare, intoxicating?

Perhaps sleep would come easy,

unrest and disharmony, distant memories.

It's probably a mere illusion,

that beckons us closer;

willing us to live and survive, 

not fearing dark, deep, gloomy waters,

to swim against the current, and not drown.

Where there are roses, there have to be thorns,

for that is the life into which we are born.

There would be petals, there would be fragrance,

there would be light, hazy, through the fog; dense.

In the lone sands of the desert,

there would be an oasis to quench our thirst.

We would survive, cherishing each moment

of joy and despondency, of sickness and health,

and someday we shall close our eyes, and sleep,

nestled in the sheets of death, escaping the dreamy reality;

termed life."

-Elegiac_Damsel

_____

September 2

Third person's point of view:

In Seneca's words, 'Every new beginning comes from the end of some other beginning.' 

To begin anew, to move ahead is the only way to live. The hands of the clock never turn anti-clockwise; time that has once gone never comes back. Life is how it is; the past cannot be undone or corrected, the future cannot be pre-decided, but one can always remain nestled in the arms of the present.

To dwell in the past, to hold on to what has passed, regret, is a grave mistake, as we lose a part of our present pining for that pragmatic opportunity to correct the wrongs of the past, eventually and inevitably, losing a part of our future. It's solely the reason why we wake up to the new dawn each day.

It had been almost 3 weeks since Mrinalini and Debarghya's marriage. Life had been continuing at its own pace, and though Mrinalini had taken time coming to terms with her inner emotional trauma and turmoil, she had decided to explore something new and to try and discover a new dimension to her otherwise monotonous daily routine. 

Seated at the dining table of the Acharya household beside a bespectacled, tall teenager, in the late afternoon, poring over the NCERT Chemistry textbook, Mrinalini took over her new, small, and insignificantly significant role; insignificant because it was a role that would bring neither name nor fame, and significant because it would be one meagre step towards her financial independence. 

Mrs Nath's son, Sagnik, was a good student at South Point High School. From what Mrinalini could perceive from the initial interaction, the boy particularly lacked interest in Chemistry. 

"Didi (elder sister), I do not like the subject, and I don't even need to learn it to crack JEE," he whined.

Due to the little age gap of a few years, it would have struck odd had Sagnik addressed her as ma'am. Ideally, he would have addressed her as boudi or sister-in-law, given the fact that Mrinalini was the new bride in their neighbourhood, but she had turned red and embarrassed when he had attempted to use that name, so they had decided to stick with didi (elder sister).

Mrinalini rolled her eyes, speaking in a firm tone, "I may not have attempted or cracked JEE, but if I am not wrong, it is the subject that helps millions of students to come up with a whopping percentile and rank. In most cases, Chemistry during JEE Mains decides your rank. Moreover, I am sure you have all the intentions to score decently in your board examinations, if not JEE. Let us try to understand the subject and the concepts from scratch. Fair enough?"

Sagnik nodded with a sigh. He knew there wasn't a way out of this; escaping the subject would be sheer foolishness. 

"The first 7 chapters are in the syllabus for your mid-term examinations, and we have just 4 weeks in hand," Mrinalini said calculatingly, biting her lip for a second. "I know your mother wanted you to come for one class every week, but just for this month, could you manage to make time for just another day per week?"

They had mutually agreed for a month as the probation period to check Sagnik's progress and the effectiveness of Mrinalini's teaching. It was important for Mrinalini to give her the best shot.

 "I'll try, didi, I'll come over on Tuesdays as had been decided earlier, but for the second day, it would vary every week. I'll let you know a day before", Sagnik yielded after some thought.

Mrinalini smiled, "That would be enough. Now, let us begin with the first chapter, shall we? Some basic concepts..."

A couple of hours of the late afternoon passed in a flash, paving the way to evening. Mrinalini latched the door after the teenager left, proceeding to the kitchen for other work, a small satisfied smile playing on her lips.

As she poured milk into a saucepan, her mind wandered back to the discussion with Debarghya that had taken an ugly turn, taking the form of the first real quarrel in their marriage.

Flashback:

"May I ask you something?" Mrinalini asked Debarghya, her hand resting gingerly on his shoulder.

It was a late Sunday afternoon, post-lunch, and the two of them were in the privacy of their room, enjoying the serene silence and peace. The rain descended; the heavenly drops splashing against the French windowpane as the gentle breeze caressed them, causing the little embedded drops to roll down the surface, running headlong into one another, and forming bigger, heavier drops that fell victim to gravity. 

Debarghya nodded in response, turning to face Mrinalini, who was sitting on an edge of the bed, with clean clothes piled up next to her, as she neatly folded them, one by one. 

"I am so often bored at home all day. I was wondering if I could take tuitions in the afternoons. Not every day, just maybe a few times a week. What do you think?" she asked him, her eyes fixated on him, expectantly. 

He nodded after a moment, enquiring quietly, "Who do you plan to teach? And where?"

"Our next-door neighbour's son, Sagnik. He is in the 11th grade. His mother wants me to teach him Chemistry once or twice a week. I was thinking I could teach him here only, at the dining table or in the living room maybe, if that isn't a problem,"  she replied to his question, her gaze unwavering from his face, attempting to decode his expressions and thoughts.

Debarghya shrugged indifferently, "I have no problem with it. In fact, it would be good if you can find something to get involved in."

Mrinalini smiled to herself, lowering her gaze and getting back to the chore at hand. 

"Do inform my mother and Brishti though," he finished. "Have you discussed the amount you would be accepting as fees?"

Mrinalini shook her head in the negative, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Informing her mother-in-law was something she was required to do out of respect and courtesy, but why would she need to involve her sister-in-law in any dynamics concerning her career or income?

Unable to restrain herself, she blurted out; her eyebrows raised, a questioning gaze meeting Debarghya's anticipating look, "Why would I inform your sister? I understand why I am supposed to and expected to inform your mother, but what has your sister got to do with anything I do or wish to do?"

"Mrinal, I..."

"No! Don't say anything! Let me speak. Why would I need to inform your sister? Give me one reason why! You are my husband, and I informed you. I am expected to and shall definitely inform your mother because she is the matriarch of this family and household, but why your sister?" she asked, seething, much to Debarghya's bewilderment.

"Why are you overreacting? I didn't ask you to go and inform her in detail about your finances. Neither did I ask you to seek her permission or approval or anything such," he replied, in a calm voice even though he was caught off guard. "I respect your decisions and your efforts, and I am sure that no one in my family would ever object or pose as an obstacle in your way. I meant by informing my mother and sister to simply tell them of your decision to take tuitions. This is your home, and it is theirs too. You plan on inviting someone home for teaching, right? They would simply appreciate knowing about it in advance."

Mrinalini's eyes flashed angrily, her rage fuelled by his words, "My home and theirs too? Well, okay... I am expected to inform them about whom I wish to invite home, and what I plan to do herein. Have you ever asked your sister anything such? Does she have to inform us about her whereabouts or her activities every day?" 

It was perceptible that the bitter exchange of words was only going to go on, possibly jeopardizing their moods for the rest of the day.

Mrinalini continued, her voice rising by a few decibels, loud enough to reflect her unanticipated and misdirected anger, but low enough to keep their spat within the four walls of their bedroom, "I know what she does is none of my business. She is a free woman who has the right and the sense to do what she is doing. Why can't I expect the same freedom here?"

Debarghya touched her arm, speaking to her in a gentle tone, despite the urge to lash back at what he felt was an unrequited argument, "Mrinal, have you been made to feel like you lack freedom here? You are grown enough to understand what you do and why. No one is stopping you. Why are you making a mountain out of a molehill?"

"A mountain out of a molehill?" Mrinalini whispered, still looking at Debarghya, shrugging his hand off her arm, glaring at him. "It always begins with small issues. I have seen Ma suppress every little thought, and it began with something as insignificant as hiding the fact that she did not like what was being cooked in the kitchen. You know what that eventually paved the way to... I don't want to end up like her."

"Don't even compare your family with mine, Mrinal!" the usually passive Debarghya snapped. "Stop being so irrational and dramatic. Do whatever you please! If you aren't in a mood for civil and logical conversation, then it's best if we both keep quiet."

"Your family and mine?" Mrinalini scoffed, her eyes glossy and flashing with rage. " Firstly, I thought I was a part of your family. Arghya, I was never permitted to bring my friends home whenever I pleased. I had to seek my uncle and aunt's approval each time I wanted to bring someone over. Here, your sister never intimates us about someone visiting, let alone seeking approval! She brings her friends over quite frequently, and I am required to play the perfect hostess serving them tea every time, but when it comes to me, I need to inform everyone beforehand?"

"Wait a minute! What does Brishti have to do with this? And if this is about serving her friends each day, then you are not obliged to do so every time. I'll speak to my sister about the same."

Mrinalini let out an annoyed, almost exhausted sigh, "Why don't you get this? It isn't about your sister. It is about me! Arghya, isn't this my home too? Why can I not get anyone home without informing everyone? And listen, my mother and my so-called family haven't taught me to be unhospitable towards guests. Your sisters' friends are guests here, at your home, and our home. If your sister asks me for something, it is only fair I serve her friends too. I cannot let the world gossip about how unwelcome and bitter I am towards the guests in our home. The courteous geniality is expected of me. Anyway, we are probably getting off-topic. Getting back to what I was saying, if this is your home, your mother's, and your sister's, then it is my home too. I think I do have a right to allow someone here, and it isn't like your mother or your sister would be bothered in any way. Do I make sense, Arghya?"

Debarghya listened to her, his expression was stoic. The argument had elevated from nowhere, and now that they had returned to the main topic, Mrinalini's stand seemed to be firm and justified. Even so, the argument seemed to have elevated from nothing. It was apparent that Mrinalini despite her good nature and ways had some obvious unvoiced issues with his sister. While it was natural for people to have their own opinions and differences, it disturbed Debarghya a bit.

"Don't misunderstand me, Arghya," Mrinalini spoke again, softly, realising from his silent self what he was contemplating. "I don't have anything against your sister, and I understand that the two of us are two different individuals and have different positions in your life and this household. It is just that give me my personal space just as she gets, and just as you command. I could never say this in my maiden home, but I am saying so here."

Debarghya nodded absent-mindedly, his attention diverted towards the vibrating cell phone on the bed. 

Glancing at the caller ID, Mrinalini knew that there was no way in hell that her husband would not take the call. She excused herself and retreated before he could ask her to, muttering under her breath in displeasure at being interrupted. 

...

Mrinalini returned to their room fifteen minutes later, hoping to complete the incomplete conversation. 

Before she could ask or say anything, Debarghya held up his hand gesturing that he wanted to speak, uninterrupted, for once. 

Silently, Mrinalini took her seat on the bed, beside him, their knees brushing against one another. 

"Go ahead and give the green signal, Mrinal," he spoke, his gaze boring into hers. "Decide on the amount you wish to charge as a fee and go ahead. It would be good for you."

Mrinalini's lips stretched into a soft smile. 

"But," Debarghya continued. "Please consider keeping your Sundays free."

A simple nod from her accompanied by a smile marked the end of their conversation; all ministrations and contretemps were forgotten, at least momentarily, knowing what the unvoiced part of Debarghya's request had been. 

"Sundays are the only days we get together, Mrinal."

...

September 2

The ringing of the doorbell brought Mrinalini back to the present. She turned off the gas burner seeing that the milk had come to a boil, and made her way to open the main door. 

It was Debarghya, at a surprisingly early and odd timing. 

"Why are you home so early?" she inquired, staring at him quizically. 

Debarghya raised his eyebrows, shrugging, "And here I was thinking you would be happy." 

"It's not like I am not happy," she defended. "It is just odd to see you home this early on a weekday."

Gesturing her to step aside to give him enough space to enter, he responded, "In case you have forgotten, I am supposed to leave on an official tour early in the morning, tomorrow."

Mrinalini blushed scarlet. She did remember him telling her about the tour, but it had utterly and totally slipped out of her mind. She moved to a side allowing him to enter the home and proceed towards their bedroom.

"I'll get you some water?" Mrinalini asked Debarghya as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar button on his shirt. 

"Um, would you mind fetching my travel bag instead? It is kept on top of the almirah," Debarghya asked. "I'll take a shower and freshen up till then. I need to pack and get some work done."

"At what time will you be leaving tomorrow?" Mrinalini asked him, already moving to drag the high, three-legged stool that she would have to use to stand on to get the bag.

"At around 6 am. The train leaves Sealdah at 7.15," Debarghya replied, shrugging out of his shirt now, and keeping it away neatly amongst other used clothes kept for washing. 

Mrinalini nodded, biting her lip as she climbed the high stool, balancing herself carefully. The room was silent except for the barely audible sound of the shower running in the bathroom. The cheers of the kids playing together in the lane outside, echoed in the room, mingling with Mrinalini's thoughts; miscellaneous thoughts about books and chemistry, about household chores and food, and lastly, about her husband and the upcoming few days that he wouldn't be home.

...

At night

"I am scared," Mrinalini whispered to Debarghya's sleeping form on the bed. 

"What?" he asked groggily, stifling a yawn. "What are you scared of? What happened?"

"You are going tomorrow," she stated quietly.

Debarghya chuckled lowly, turning to face her, his eyes straining to make out her features in the dark, the dim moonlight aiding him just a bit. 

"I am not going for war, Mrinal," he told her, his hand resting gently on her waist. "I am going on an official tour, and I will be back on Friday."

Mrinalini shook her head, "It's not about that. I know you will be back." 

"What's bothering you then?"

Fidgeting just a bit, she blurted aloud the one major reason why she was scared, "I have never slept alone at night."

Although Mrinalini couldn't see clearly in the dark, she could guess how comical and priceless Debarghya's expression must have been. 

"What?" he asked her, incredulously. "You are 21, right?"

"It's not my fault!" Mrinalini justified, glaring at him, her hand hitting his chest in an expression of annoyance. "As a child, till Dadabhai turned 13, we slept together with our grandmother or sometimes with Ma. Later, Jethu and Jethima got a room renovated for Dadabhai. Since then, I always slept next to Ma, rarely with Thamma (grandma). And after we got married..."

"We sleep on the same bed, together," Debarghya finished for her. 

Mrinalini hummed in response, her hand still on his bare chest; the periodic beating of his heart pulsating against her palm. She shifted a bit towards him, bringing her head to rest on his pillow instead of hers.

"I am scared of being alone," she spoke in a low, soft voice. "What if there are ghosts? I am scared of ghosts."

Debarghya shook his head at her words, the same words she had uttered the first time they had met, more than two months ago, "Ghosts again! There are no ghosts or spirits here, Mrinal. And if you really feel too scared, then you can go, sleep next to Ma or my sister."

"Will you be going out of town often?" she asked him again, toying with the white, sacred thread that Debarghya wore from his left shoulder to his waist, across his torso.

He sighed, "Yes, I am required to go out every month, more than once. The corporate world is known for its cutthroat competition. If I fail to work hard and refuse to go that extra mile, I will be the one to lose. Someone else would replace me. Hence, you need to understand and get used to being alone here, sleeping by yourself, at night."

"Okay," Mrinalini whispered, distancing herself from him. "Good night."

Debarghya cursed under his breath, incoherently, realizing that his words had been quite dismissive. 

He propped himself up on his elbow and reached out to Mrinalini, touching her hair momentarily before leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I know you are awake."

Mrinalini neither turned nor reacted. Her eyes were shut tight, and her lips drawn to a thin line. 

She stilled feeling his stubble rub against her cheek as his lips touched her ear lobe, his warm breath fanning her neck, causing her pulse to quicken. The heaving movement of her diaphragm contracting as she inhaled sharply, caused her breasts to brush against Debarghya's forearm.

"I didn't mean to be rude, Mrinal," Debarghya murmured in a raspy, hoarse voice, his fingers moving to trace a pattern on Mrinalini's waist, in a meagre approximation of a caress. 

Mrinalini felt goosebumps arise as his lips brushed lightly against her pulse. His stubble grazed her cheek, the contrast in their skin texture felt through this slight, delicate touch; his rough, and hers soft, despite regular negligence. She lifted her hand, cupping his jaw in her palm, causing their eyes to meet, the sclera of their eyes visible and apparent, helping them make out each other's physiognomy even in the dark, barely lit room. 

Letting go of her qualm and reservation, Mrinalini lifted herself slightly, her cloth-covered breasts touching Debarghya's bare torso, their faces close, lips close enough for them to feel their breaths mingling, the air surrounding them thick with a strange intimacy, unknown and new to both.

 She could feel him gulp, his Adam's apple quivering at the action. Drawing her lips close to his throat, she dropped a fluttering, almost illusory peck on his vibrating larynx. His hand that had been around her midriff tightened, lifting her further towards him. 

Debarghya's hand slipped under Mrinalini's nightshirt, an old, faded mini kurta that she now wore to bed, coming in contact with her bare waist.

Mrinalini's lips parted, releasing a low whimper as Debarghya's thumb stroked her skin, the uneven, calloused ridges of his palm complementing the soft skin of her waistline, marred only by a few occasional stretch marks. 

"Mrinal," Debarghya whispered, his lips nuzzling the facial juncture where her jaw met her throat. 

Inhaling audibly, Mrinalini turned her face, angling it such that their lips touched.

For a while, neither moved, their lips remained in mere contact with one another. It was only when Mrinalini's lips parted, to exhale did Debarghya make a move, taking Mrinalini's lower lip between his in a slight, sucking motion. 

Caught unaware, Mrinalini stilled for some time, attempting to understand his actions, a warm, fuzziness in her stomach weighing her down. Her hand, which had been lying flat on his left pectoral, found its way to his head, threading the fingers through his mass of dark hair. Her lips mimicked his actions, and she gradually started responding to the kiss, their lips exploring tentatively. 

With Debarghya's head and back against the headboard of the bed, Mrinalini was almost laying on him, their lips still conjoined in a kiss,  in a closeness neither of them had been previously acquainted with. 

"Arghya," Mrinalini uttered fervently, pulling away to catch her breath. 

"We need to go to sleep?" Debarghya asked her teasingly, his arm around her waist tightening its grasp.

Mrinalini nodded, her face turning the other way, her hand already attempting to free herself from his grasp.

 "We both need to wake up on time in the morning," she reminded him, shifting to her side of the bed and settling down, facing the wall on the other side, her hands tugging the edge of the duvet. "You are going on a tour tomorrow. We need to retire for the night." 

Debarghya chuckled but complied with what Mrinalini said.  

"Good night, Mrinal," he whispered into the dark void of the night, resting his head on the pillow, not anticipating or expecting a reply from her.

Nestled in the sheets of momentary bliss, covered by the warm blanket of companionship and togetherness as the air called life surrounded them. Their feet brushed against each other underneath the duvet as they both shut their eyes and gradually drifted off to an unknown world seen in unconsciousness and oblivion, farther away from the complexity divulged by the term; life.

The night was silent, eerily so, the dim moonlight lit up the streets with the luminescence it borrowed from the mighty sun. Except for the street dogs who howled away to glory periodically, the City of Joy plunged into a deep slumber, embracing ignorance as the sky full of stars briefly overcast by clouds, watched over. The deserted lanes nestled in the bliss of solitude spared from the assault of cars and pedestrians. 

Time ticked away even as life took a break from business and movement. Each moment is transient, the present is a mere illusion nestled in the transience, begging to be cherished.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 10th June 2021

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi there. I am alive :-)

I am sorry for updating so late, and for being such a hopeless author with 0 sense of responsibility. Nonetheless, I hope you all are well, safe, and healthy. 

The past few months have been challenging for all of us here, in India, but I still hope you all are staying strong. 

The phase hasn't been great, on a personal front and in general. Coping with the sky-rocketing numbers of COVID-19 cases, dealing with the death of family, and even strangers. The entire nation was mourning, and I know it's been tough on all of us, but I can only hope and pray fervently that we find the strength to not give up the fight.   

I pray for those who are bereaved and grieving, and I pray for the departed souls. I pray for the ones affected by two successive, devastating cyclones, and I pray for a better day tomorrow. 

Stay safe and healthy everyone. Do not give up. Listen to your heart and cherish each moment. We are blessed to be living. Let's treasure life.

It may be tough, but a spectrum of hope awaits all those who brave the storm. :-)

Love and strength,

Elegiac_Damsel

P.S. Please do vote, comment, and share if Mrinalini's story has been able to touch a part of you.

P.P.S. Take care of yourselves and your near and dear ones. Life's too unpredictable to leave important words unsaid, and feelings unexpressed.