DEDICATED TO: manyakumar31  kadhambari_24 kihdin

"The only certainty of time lies in its uncertainty,

the unpredictable oscillating pendulum drives,

the inexorability, the potentially catastrophic might,

that can penetrate through the darkness, with its blinding light.

The steady ticking of the clock that never ceases,

causes the pulse to quicken, the breathing deepens.

Inhaling calmness to exhale unrest,

a life companion, supporting its quest.

Just as the suns' rays caress the earth,

time sweeps through all that's mighty, alas, lies dirt.

Calmness is an illusion, a mirage in the mighty sands,

one that you crave during a ferocious storm,

one that graces you when all but nothing's lost.

You can pray for peace, you can obliterate sound,

you can pause your thoughts, to welcome the calm;

free, liberating, and unbound.

-Elegiac_Damsel

_____

20th September

Third person's point of view:

It was dawn.

The City of Joy was waking up, gradually.

The sun's rays cast their light on the sparkling waters of the Hooghly river, making each wave and ripple on the water surface to closely represent the twinkling stars that were gradually retiring after a tireless night of lighting the horizon alongside the moon. The atmosphere was serene, quiet, calm, contradictory to the noisy business of the streets that would surface later as the day progressed. The fishermen were up and about, their boats venturing out to this particular distributary of the holy Ganges, finding fish for the buyers to purchase later. The flowers bloomed happily, the lotuses in ponds opening their beautiful petals, aroused by the sun's caress.

A few pedestrians lined up near bus stops, probably awaiting the arrival of transportation that would ferry them to their respective places of work. Despite most households still plunged into a deep slumber, the sun smiled down upon early risers, spreading its warmth and light to all those who sought the same.

Mrinalini, one such early riser, was bustling about in the kitchen of the Acharya household.

The weather had become unbearably hot in the past week. The consistent showers had ceased, and although the forecast suggested a return of the dreary weather during the impending Autumn festivities in the first week of October, the temperature and humidity soared high.

The unprecedented heat had been getting on everyone's nerves lately. Anumegha and Debjani rarely exited their air-conditioned room. Mrinalini would also often seek respite and refuge from the heat during the day and evening by spending time in her mother-in-law and sister-in-law's room.

Debarghya and Mrinalini's room though bearable with an open window and a working ceiling fan working at top speed was nowhere near comfortable. The nights were too hot, and that often spelt out disturbed sleep for Debarghya. Mrinalini was used to the heat since her maiden home didn't have an air-conditioner, but here with their home being on the top floor, managing to do things with the swelter was easier said than done.

Although the day had barely begun, Mrinalini was already exhausted. Sweat beads dotted the expanse of her forehead. The heat from the gas burners added to her agony, her breath escaping in tired gasps as she opened the kitchen window to let some air in. She had decided to get the majority of the cooking done earlier since it would become increasingly difficult to get work done towards noon when the heat escalated. She had breakfast to make for everyone, lunch for herself and Debjani, and a simple Nutella sandwich that her sister-in-law could carry to college. Debarghya never carried his lunch from home, given his in transit job, from one hospital or clinic to another. On most days that he got the time, he would eat a walk-in lunch, but even in the barely one-month-long marriage, Mrinalini had seen him return home often, utterly famished as he had been unable to squeeze in enough time to eat anything in the entire day. Though this reduced her workload, it caused her to worry for his sake.

The clock read 6 am when Mrinalini gently turned the gas knob, letting the flame extinguish before she washed her hand and exited the kitchen to proceed to go to her room.

Debarghya was still asleep when Mrinalini walked in. He had strewn aside the thin blanket which had come to substitute the heavy duvet on their bed in the hot weather. Knowing that Debarghya had a restless night, she tiptoed into the room and opened the window, carefully keeping the curtains drawn so that the entering light wouldn't disturb his sleep.

It was Friday. Sagnik was expected to come for his bi-weekly classes in the afternoon. With his examinations commencing the next week, Mrinalini had given it her all to finish the curriculum and help him learn using tips, tricks, and useful mnemonics. All that remained was testing and evaluation, and she had made sincere efforts to get the boy to fetch her previous year question papers from one of his seniors and had gone through them all. Having recognised the recurrent questions and concepts asked, she had started preparing a mock test paper for practice.

Knowing very well that it would be at least an hour before the entire household awoke, Mrinalini decided to utilise the time she had in hand. Fetching Debarghya's laptop, which had been on charging, she settled down on the bed next to her sleeping husband. Her notebooks and books were on the bedside table from the night before when she had been glancing through them right before going to bed.

Referring to one of her favourite books on Organic Chemistry, Mrinalini started compiling a list of the reactions that she felt would be important. She made sure to include all the confusing reactions which deceptively used the same reagents to yield different products. Using Debarghya's laptop to search up questions that had been frequently asked in the CBSE board examinations before, she highlighted the respective answers from her handwritten notes in her notebook.

This one hour that Mrinalini got for herself, uninterrupted and quiet, allowed her to focus. Lost in the jungle of Benzenoid rings and double bonds, with concepts like inductive effect and conjugation, which put off scores of students like Sagnik every year, she felt totally at home. Her mood was soured only when she moved to the inorganic part of the syllabus. Contrary to her immense love for organic chemistry, the much theory constituted inorganic chemistry was the cause of her anxiety.

She typed up the name of the topic on the search engine, awaiting relevant search results when she unintelligibly misdirected the cursor to follow a link on YouTube, the greeting of a Chemistry lecturer speaking startling her. She immediately paused the video, glancing towards Debarghya, a light sleeper who had been disturbed by the booming voice.

He stirred, opening his eyes, looking slightly dazed. Mrinalini's side of the bed had books and notebooks scattered around, causing Debarghya's hand to brush against a particularly thick one. He sat up in bed, looking at Mrinalini, who was staring at him with an apologetic face.

"Good morning," she greeted him, biting her lip. "I am sorry for waking you up."

"It's close to 7, anyway," Debarghya shrugged, his gaze directed towards the wall clock. "It's fine."

"I'll clear the bed," Mrinalini said, hurriedly getting up, flustered.

"I'll manage to do that, Mrinal," he replied, sighing. "And it is honestly alright if you woke me up. I would have woken up in another 10 minutes myself."

"You had disturbed sleep and a restless night," she reminded him.

"Just do me a favour by not waking me up early on a Sunday morning," he replied, smiling, reaching out for his laptop, which had been lying silent in between the sheets after awakening him rudely.

"Put this on charging, will you?" Debarghya requested Mrinalini. "I need to compile a few reports and mail them."

"So, you'll be leaving home a bit late, right?" she inquired, looking at him inquisitively.

"Quite," Debarghya replied assertively. "Would probably take me till noon to get this work done."

"You are eating lunch at home today before you leave for work," Mrinalini spoke, decisively. "And neither am I asking you nor is this a request."

...

It was late afternoon.

The hot weather had seen a sudden metamorphosis, and clouds had overcast the sky, hiding the celestial light blue with their ominous and dull darkness.

Mrinalini was seated at the dining table, her gaze wandering out of the window, drawn towards the sky, trying her level best to ignore Sagnik's groaning as he attempted to answer the questions she had assigned him.

The sound of the ringing doorbell caught Mrinalini's attention. She stood up, pushing her chair behind, walking towards the door. She was expecting Anumegha to be back, probably earlier than usual, but it was the postman.

"A letter for Mrinalini Acharya," he announced, thrusting the letter into her hand, followed by the receiving document that Mrinalini was required to sign. "Ma'am, would you mind giving me some water?" the postman asked hesitantly, pausing to wipe his forehead with his sleeve.

Mrinalini nodded, signing the document quickly next to her name and address, before rushing to the kitchen to fetch the old postman some water in a glass.

Offering him the glass with a gentle smile on her face, Mrinalini lifted the envelope to check who the sender was while the man quenched his thirst. The letter was from Rai, having been posted from somewhere in Shantiniketan.

"Thank you, ma'am," the old postman smiled at Mrinalini, returning the now empty glass, causing her to break out of the bubble of joy she had trapped herself in upon hearing from her mother.

Mrinalini accepted the glass from the man, smiling earnestly, feeling joyous that he had delivered her mother's message. She shut the door gently, the envelope still in her hand.

"Didi," Sagnik's voice startled Mrinalini. Having been so involved in her thoughts, she had utterly forgotten about the boy who was still trying his best to make head and tail out of the questions he was expected to answer.

"I am unable to solve this question," he continued, causing Mrinalini to roll her eyes.

"My dear brother," she began, her lips twitching. "You do realise that this is meant to be a mock test, don't you?"

"But di, I cannot solve this," the teenager whined. "What is the point of tests if we cannot solve them?"

"The next thing you'll ask me is what is the point of studying when we can get all required information at our fingertips using the internet," Mrinalini replied, shaking her head. "Try and solve what you can. I have the answers to each question marked already, so once you are done, we can go step by step to evaluate your performance and level of preparation."

Saying this, she went inside the kitchen to return the glass that she had offered the postman water in. Standing at the threshold of the kitchen, Mrinalini leaned against the wall, eagerly cutting through the opening of the envelope and retrieving her mother's letter. The spidery Bengali script that was all too familiar to her greeted her.

She brushed her palm over the page, feeling her mother close to her, knowing that the letter had last been touched by Rai. The letter was dated the 3rd of September. It read:

"My dear Mini,

Your grandmother and I have settled in well here. We are staying on rent here in a room kitchen near the university campus, and the two of us are perfectly healthy. The students here remind us both of you. I hope you are doing well, sweetheart. I have been meaning to write to you for quite a while now, but after what you must have read in my last letter to you, I felt sceptical.

Baby, I am sorry. I am sorry for having kept the truth from you for so many years. I am sorry for feigning happiness in that household when all I had felt was suffocation. I know it must have come as a terrible shock to you, and I cannot help but reprimand myself for revealing the truth to you over a letter. I know how hard betrayal hits you, but I hope and pray that my strong girl would never let this affect her.

I am not writing this letter to discuss my past with you. I am writing to you because I miss you. I never imagined I would ever have to go so many days without seeing you or speaking to you, without knowing if you are alright and whether or not you've eaten well. I never went a day without seeing you ever since you were born, and although I know that you are all grown up now, I cannot help but feel anxious about you and your well-being.

How is everything at your new home, baby? Are you happy there? Do you eat on time? Are you doing well, darling? I wish I could see for myself how you were doing rather than ask you here in a letter, but destiny's played its card. You are always on my mind and in my prayers, my sweet daughter. 

I will be awaiting a reply from you, my child. Your grandmother joins me in sending love and blessings to you.

Stay well and be strong.

Love,

Ma."

Mrinalini couldn't help but feel the moisture well up in her eyes as she went over the letter reading the words and queries from Rai that thoroughly expressed her boundless concern and love for her daughter.

She missed Rai's presence. She missed those countless queries that were characteristic of her motherly responsibilities. She swallowed the lump in her throat before closing the letter and reinstating it inside the envelope.

Making a quick visit to her bedroom, Mrinalini kept the letter on the bedside table and proceeded to splash some water on her face before returning to Sagnik and his Chemistry mock test.

"What do you think of the questions, Sagnik?" Mrinalini asked him teasingly, knowing very well that he had had a tussle.

"Didi!" Sagnik exclaimed in an embarrassed tone.

Putting on a serious expression, forgoing the waves of emotions that Rai's letter had brought with it, and the amusement that had momentarily graced her features, Mrinalini took the paper and Sagnik's notebook from him, preparing to evaluate each question while guiding him step by step with the expected answers.

...

It was late evening.

Mrinalini, having finished her cooking for the day, returned to her bedroom. Debjani, after helping her daughter-in-law with some of the cooking, had retired to her room. Anumegha, who had her examinations starting in the week before Deepawali, which was barely 5 weeks away, had promptly taken refuge in her room, burying her head inside books while racing against time to complete assignments and meet deadlines.

Debarghya had come home just a while ago and was changing into fresh clothes after taking a shower. He looked up as Mrinalini entered their room, seemingly lost in her thoughts. 

She went about to their bed, retrieving the letter that she had kept on the bedside table before tearing a page off her notebook, which had been lying on the bed since afternoon. Taking Debarghya's pen, from where it had been lying since he returned home, Mrinalini began composing a reply to her mother in Bengali, beginning with the customary greeting.

"Are you listening?" she asked Debarghya, not looking up as the pen's nib glided across the page, expressing her thoughts, reassuring her mother that all was well and that she was happy at her in-laws'. She started writing about how she had begun taking tuitions and that she hoped to receive her own earned money for the first time by the end of the month.

"Yes, tell me," he replied. 

"I received a letter from Ma today," Mrinalini continued, her pen's nib stilling for a moment as she paused to think. "The postman got it in the afternoon."

Debarghya nodded, "That's nice. So, what did Ma write? Are she and your grandmother well?"

"Yes," she replied. "Ma says that the two of them are well and that they have settled in alright at Shantiniketan. I am just writing a response for Ma. Could you post the letter for me tomorrow?"

"I'll do that," Debarghya assured Mrinalini, agreeing to her request. "You'll find a few stamps in my wallet, probably in the inner pocket. Just stick a couple of them to the envelope you'll enclose the letter in. I'll visit the post office whenever I get time tomorrow."

Mrinalini smiled, hesitating just a bit to make another request. She looked at him silently, her expression apprehensive and unsure.

"Tell me, Mrinal," Debarghya sighed, taking a seat across from her on the bed. 

"I was wondering if you could lend me Rs. 500," Mrinalini finally voiced, her tentative gaze meeting her husband's. "I was hoping to send that to Ma."

"Of course I can," Debarghya replied incredulously. "You wish to send just five hundred rupees? It isn't much, Mrinal. I can spare you more if you want to send money to your mother."

"No, I just wish to send her rupees five hundred," Mrinalini replied with certitude. "She hasn't asked me for money. She is earning now, and I hope she'll tell me as and when she'll need money, but this isn't about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I just wanted to send her a part of my first earning," Mrinalini answered in a small tone. "No matter how insignificant and meagre the amount is, I just want her to be a part of it. I had promised her that I would buy her something using my first earning. Since I won't be receiving the amount before the end of this month, I am requesting you to lend me some money and fill it in for me. I know I can send her the money later but," she paused to look at Debarghya, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

"You want her to send her the amount before Durga Puja so she can buy something?" he finished, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

Mrinalini nodded. "Even if it's a small handkerchief that she can get for herself."

"I'll send the money through money order tomorrow, alongside the letter," Debarghya told Mrinalini in a reassuring tone. "And instead of repaying me the amount directly, you can just add the money to our savings."

"I will," she replied, a sincere smile playing on her lips. "Your mother had been asking for you. Go and speak to her, will you? I'll complete writing this letter till then, and then we can eat together."

Returning to the letter, Mrinalini proceeded to write further, taking her time to describe her home and all that she had started cooking lately. She wrote about how she had managed to befriend a few of her neighbours and her brother-in-law. She expressed how much she missed her mother and grandmother and how she wished she could be with them, but ceased writing anything about her uncle or his family. At the end of the letter, after signing off, she carefully wrote down her new cell phone number, Debarghya's number, and the landline telephone number hoping that her mother would call her sometime soon. Finally, in the postscript, she added a note about the money that would be sent with the letter, expressing her desire to buy something for Rai, hoping that she would get something for herself, keeping her daughter's wish in mind.

Once done, Mrinalini folded the letter neatly and placed it inside an envelope which she found in Debarghya's stationery drawer in the bureau, which occupied a part of their room. She sealed the mouth of the sleeve using gum and proceeded to retrieve a couple of stamps from inside her husband's wallet before sticking them properly. She copied down the receiver's address from the letter Rai had sent her and placed it near Debarghya's wallet.

Satisfied, Mrinalini straightened and turned to collect Debarghya's clothes from the laundry basket, pausing to take out his handkerchief from his trouser pocket, knowing that he had a bad habit of forgetting to take them out before washing. She kept the clothes separately, noticing that he had worn a white shirt that day, which was at a high risk of getting ruined in case any of the other clothes bled in colour when washed in the washing machine. 

Bending to pick up a cufflink, which had rolled off the dressing table and onto the floor, Mrinalini came across a shopping bag that had the name of a sari boutique written on it. 

"Boudi, can we please go and eat now?" Anumegha's voice startled her from the doorstep. "It's close to 9.30 pm already," she continued.

"I am coming," Mrinalini called out. 

...

It was close to midnight. 

Debarghya had busied himself in doing some office work on his laptop while Mrinalini read quietly, sitting next to him on the bed. Their backs rested against the headboard, and both their legs were stretched out comfortably. There was a calmness in the room accompanied by the fleeting pealing of the wind chime, which with the help of the gentle humid breeze coming in from the open window, tintinnabulated in intervals. An occasional bark or whimper from the street mongrel, who resided in the shelter of the porch of their building, would greet the dark stillness of the night.

The night was hot. Debarghya tried his best to ignore the gnawing heat from commanding his attention, and indirectly his work, but it was almost impossible, especially with the additional heat from his laptop.  

"It's so hot!" he exclaimed in annoyance. "It's difficult to get work done in this heat."

"Did you ever see the masons and labourers who are working on the nearby upcoming building here?" Mrinalini asked rhetorically, not looking up from the book in her hand.

"I know," Debarghya replied, grumbling. "It's just too hot. I never bothered to get an air conditioner in this room because I am not even home for at least a fortnight every month, but with the way the temperatures are soaring globally, I seriously do not know how long we can survive in this heat."

"Calm down," Mrinalini said, holding out the bottle of water that she had kept on the bedside table. "Drink some water."

She watched him take a couple of sips, wondering in her mind how contrasting and confounding his behaviour was at times. 

"I saw a bag from that sari boutique in College Street," she said, initiating conversation.

"It's for you," Debarghya replied. "For Durga Puja."

He kept the laptop aside and got up from their bed to fetch the bag Mrinalini had been asking about. The bag contained a beautiful silk sari, parrot green in colour accompanied by golden and red shades. 

Mrinalini was stunned. She loved the sari at the very first glance, loving how the vibrancy of the colour seemingly smiled at her. 

"I thought we were supposed to go shopping this Sunday," she whispered inquisitively. "With Ma and Brishti didi."

Debarghya rubbed his nape, slightly in embarrassment and also as an ode to wipe off some sweat. He inquired hesitantly, "Do you like it?"

"I do," Mrinalini said. She unfolded the fabric and draped it over a shoulder, looking at Debarghya, asking him, "Does it suit me?"

"I thought it would," he replied. "Why don't you see in your reflection in the mirror?"

Taking his advice, Mrinalini got up from her bed and stepped up in front of the mirror to check on her reflection. She looked at her husband through their reflection, mouthing softly, "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Debarghya replied with a smile, his initial qualms about Mrinalini not liking the sari dissipating as he saw her open the folded fabric yard by yard to check on the total design, an anticipatory smile constant on her lips. He watched her, observing closely for another minute before exiting their room for a smoke on the balcony. Mrinalini finished folding up the sari neatly once she had seen it completely. She had heard Debarghya exiting for a smoke and had chosen not to comment. It was perceptible to her that he had been trying to make a genuine effort at curbing the number of cigarettes that he smoked each day, either driven by the need to maintain his health or perhaps driven by the excessive heat. The reason didn't matter to her much. She just needed him to get rid of his addiction and habit. Since it could never be overcome overnight, she had to be patient and hopeful.

It was past midnight by the time the two of them settled down on the bed, ready to call it a day. Debarghya had changed into fresh clothes after smoking, knowing Mrinalini's dislike towards tobacco and the lingering stench of nicotine that would inevitably be emanating from his clothes. The room was dark, the lights put out, the streetlight outside providing just enough visibility to prevent either of the two from colliding with anything in the room.

"You didn't answer my question then," Mrinalini reminded Debarghya, muttering softly into the calm and dark night.

"Which question?"

"We were supposed to go shopping this Sunday," she continued. "You were supposed to take  Ma, Brishti didi, and me. Have there been any changes in the plan?"

Debarghya sighed. He started doubting his actions of getting the sari for her. Hesitantly, he asked, "You didn't like the sari, didn't you? We can get it changed if you like anything better. You can select something yourself."

"Arghya," Mrinalini interrupted him impatiently. "It isn't about me not liking the sari. I loved it, and I told you the same. I was just surprised. I really love the sari. It is beautiful. I was just wondering why you got me something separately."

"My father used to get my mother a sari selected by him every year, " Debarghya replied, a fond nostalgic expression forming on his face as he reminisced. "Usually, most of the new outfits for the festival were purchased when we went out together, but every year my mother would turn up in a sari that neither of us had seen. I know that it was something that Baba gifted her because I had seen him coming home once, a week before the festival, a sari wrapped in brown paper and tied with a drawstring, in his hand."

"That's nice," Mrinalini commented, smiling, imagining the almost stoic and pragmatic Debjani, who she had come to know as her mother-in-law, as a young woman, a scenario that seemed so utterly bizarre, almost unfathomable. "Your mother must have felt really flattered. It's such an appreciable gesture from your father."

"Maybe," Debarghya shrugged, looking at Mrinalini in the dark. 

Silently, reaching out to hold Debarghya's hand, entwining their fingers, Mrinalini said, "I cannot help but wish my mother didn't go through what she did. Initially, I always felt that my father's demise was unfortunate and that it had caused Ma and me much trouble and unhappiness, but after what Ma told me, I... I feel so utterly angry. I feel angry with myself for enjoying life when she didn't."

"I have told you several times that it isn't your fault, Mrinal," Debarghya replied calmly, stroking Mrinalini's palm with his thumb. "You cannot be angry with yourself for being happy. It sounds stupid. I know you might feel guilt, unrest, perhaps even delinquency, although you are a victim yourself. You cannot reprimand yourself for trying to leave your past behind and trying to find happiness. Your mother doesn't want you to suffer in a way she did, least of all wallowing in unjustified rue."

His reply didn't make Mrinalini feel better. Instead, she realised that she had been unable to explain herself to him and that she couldn't give words to what was gnawing away at her. Some thoughts tend to create havoc inside even when the exterior radiates calmness. This was one such deafening thought that she had to keep to herself, hoping that time heals.

"Mrinal," Debarghya's voice brought her out of her reverie, interrupting the silent conversation that she had been having with herself.

She glanced at him, her hollow, vulnerable gaze meeting his, trying to express her insecurities, but failing. 

"At what time will you be leaving tomorrow?" she asked instead, changing the topic of conversation, directing it towards the next day. 

"At 8," he replied. "I need to go to Durgapur. I will be back by late evening."

Nodding slightly, Mrinalini reached out close to him, resting her head against his chest. Overwhelmed by her own vulnerability, she felt the need to be close to him, to feel the warmth and intimacy that physical contact could offer. 

The steady beating of his heart echoed in her eardrums, the deep sighs of her breathing pulsating in rhythm, forming a peaceful symphony. The calmness of the night, the lingering heat in the air mingled with the warmth emanating from each other's bodies, formed a brief, intimate bubble. The thin blanket on the bed had been pushed to a side, lying abandoned, the need for it forgone. 

Debarghya shifted, uncomfortably, the heat which had been getting on his nerves for quite a while, irritating him. He held Mrinalini in his embrace briefly, releasing her to drop a light kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him, leaning in, their lips brushing against one another's for a tentative moment before she pulled back. 

There were millions of questions in her head that posed insecurities. There were billions of doubts, apprehension for the inevitable future that wreaked havoc through her mind. Despite the turmoil that troubled her, Mrinalini found herself falling victim to the fatigue of the day, succumbing, falling asleep to a gradual, calm slumber, next to a man who was still a stranger, despite a month of being tied in matrimony.  

The briefly overcast sky representing the future, hiding and concealing the coherent light behind its translucence. The opaque gateway to the future, time, ticked away in all its glory, fooling those who were lost in the delusionary world called sleep, with its calmness, hiding its most vicious weapon, uncertain and unanticipated catastrophe, that was inexorable.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 19th July 2021

Author's note:

Hello everyone.

First things first, I have completed my first year at college with a satisfactory grade point average. Second-year begins on the 26th, and I hope to put in some effort and do better. 

I hope you are doing well. Tough times are still on, so please do stay aware and safe. Wear masks, use sanitisers, GET VACCINATED if you are eligible, and please do keep in touch with loved ones. These unprecedented times caused losses to all of us, and it just proves and emphasises the need for us to stay connected and by one another's side. 

Here's hoping that we overcome this together successfully and come out to see better days ahead.

Do take care of yourselves, and let me know what you think of what I have written. I am sorry for the uneventful chapter, but this is general fiction, and in all honesty, I wish this story to resemble a normal life, one that doesn't see something new or exciting happening each day. I hope you are not disappointed with how this story's going. I'll try my level best to live up to your expectations and to do justice to all the love and support that I get from you.

Thanks a lot for reading what I write. It means more to me than I can explain. I am really grateful and indebted to each and everyone here who reads whatever little I try to write.

Till next time!

Love <3

P.S. Do take care and stay safe.

P.P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if Mrinalini's story has been able to strike a chord with you.