"The autumn leaves that die and wither away do not indicate the end, instead they signify a new beginning."

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

30th September

Third person's point of view:

In the wee hours of the morning, at 4 am, when the sun wasn't quite up, the radio was being tuned in every household. The immortalised voice of Birendra Krishna Bhadra echoed the opening lines of Mahishasura Mardini, a radio programme that has been in existence since its interception in 1931, with the verses dedicated to the ferocious mother goddess, Durga. 

Unlike most days of the year, when people chose to sleep over the dawn, this one autumn morning saw everyone awake, awaiting the sunrise. Although old with the years, the simple radio programme remains popular among people. Its significance marks the first new moon of autumn, Mahalaya Amavasya, occurring just a week before the festivities commenced. Although the day after Mahalaya marks the beginning of Sharadiya Navratri, celebrations in the Eastern states of India, like in Bengal, begin from the sixth day in the Northern and Western parts of India.

In the Acharya household, Mrinalini and Debarghya were still lying on their bed, side by side, the old battery-powered radio nestled in between their two pillows. They had both awoken with the help of an alarm set on Mrinalini's phone, having been determined to not miss the AIR broadcast. With drowsy eyes and a groggy self, Debarghya had tuned in the radio to the right frequency with great difficulty as Mrinalini had watched him struggling to keep his eyes open, amused. There was silence in the room apart from the booming voice from the radio, interrupted briefly for songs which were decades old, which were a part of the radio broadcast, the recording sounding rusty and high pitched, especially in the early, quiet morning. And yet, despite the random bursts of static that brought momentary discontinuity, neither spoke, their attention remained uninterspersed. 

Watching Debarghya gradually drift off to sleep even as the radio continued blaring, Mrinalini sighed. She felt lazed, unwilling to wake up although it was close to half-past five, the broadcast on the cusp of ending. Taking her time to shut down the radio, she reached out to keep it on the bedside table before rolling over on the bed, snuggling in a foetal position, indulging herself in a few more minutes of lazing around. She could do the work later. There was enough time.

Sleeping wasn't an option, and Mrinalini knew that she couldn't fall back asleep having been awake for so long. And yet, she chose to give in to her desire of lazing around, mentally transporting herself to a state of superficial relaxation whilst she was awake, contemplating thoughts that she shared with no one but herself.

Her life had begun seeming dull. Although she had settled in well at her new home, she felt utterly bored, often rendered lonely and unenthusiastic. She couldn't help but go over the changes that were apparent in her life. It was barely 3 months ago when she had been happy, going to college, carefree and free. She hadn't imagined getting married this early. She wasn't unhappy with her new life, but a part of her fervently wished things hadn't turned out this way. Being married to a man several years older than her, living in a household with two other strangers, who were a part of her family now, staying home for an entire year before she could get back to college, it seemed tedious, quite often asphyxiating. She had come to like Debarghya, and perhaps things would work out between them in the future. Dealing with her bittersweet mother-in-law and her daughter was also something she could manage, but the weighing questions of what could have happened had things been different never ceased to cause a gnawing feeling of regret in her. 

Looking back at what the past month or so had yielded, Mrinalini knew that she was in a way grateful for whatever had transpired in her life, grateful for learning about her uncle's deceit and crime, grateful for Debarghya's patient maturity, which had helped her absorb the shock from what Rai had revealed unceremoniously.  She was thankful for his sense of individualism, financial and otherwise, that had inevitably prompted her to harbour the same. She was grateful for his demeanour and behaviour with her, glad and relieved that he hadn't tried to force marital obligations upon her.

But despite all the positives that she could gather, she missed being a normal college girl. She missed being out every day, being on a quest to learn while having her own fun with some friends. Being married at 21, free to do as she pleased, yet shackled by marital obligations and expectations, wasn't a life she had envisioned for herself. She missed the metro that she had taken to and from college each day, the bookstores in college street where she would go wandering about once in a month, sometimes to buy books in bulk or just to skim through a few pages. 

Mrinalini sighed, her eyes slightly moist as she reminisced.

She glanced at the wall clock. Realising it was quarter past six already, she sat up in bed, deciding to get up for the day, knowing that it would result in mayhem and clash with Debarghya's schedule if she continued being idle. She blinked rapidly to clear the moisture that had pooled in her eyes. 

There would be days ahead when she would forget how she had been forced into this life. Someday, she would ensure that she never let marital status affect her dreams or hopes.

...

6th October

Autumn; a season that bridges the summer months' scorching heat and the chilly, dreary cold of the winter. Characterised by the fallen red leaves on the sidewalk, being mercilessly stamped underneath the busy, heavy shoes of all those who cared less, the lingering scent of old life dying away, giving up, yielding its way for the new, apparent in the air. 

Unlike the bookish, romantic description that befits Autumn in words, the season of Autumn in the City of Joy arrives with the arrival of the Mother Goddess Durga, the warrior, who single-handedly defeated the evil Buffalo demon, Mahishasura, with her family; the Goddess of Wealth of prosperity, Lakshmi, the Goddess of knowledge and cosmic balance, Saraswati, the God who removes all obstacles, the much-beloved son of the mighty Shiva, the destroyer of the Universe, Ganesha, and the handsome, brave God Kartikeya, the commander of the celestial army. The lasting fragrance of the Kans grass, locally known as Kash lingered in the air. Marquees made of bamboo tied together with rope and covered in cloth marred each avenue of the City of Joy. The sound of kids running about excitedly, joyous at the prospect of celebrating and not studying for the next few days, periodic beats of the percussion instrument associated with Bengal, dhaak, could be heard. 

It was Shashti, the sixth day of the waxing moon. 

Although celebrations commenced today, offices and organisations would officially close only from the next day, going for a 4-day break for the festival before resuming operations again. With vacations underway at schools and colleges already, the kids and teenagers in the neighbourhood went about playing in the lanes, the cricket ball having succeeded in hitting a couple of cars, and landing on numerous balconies. Mrinalini had been struck on the head once while she had been hanging clothes on the line in the terrace, hurt slightly, but mostly grateful at her fortune that it wasn't a leather ball the boys played with, thus averting a potentially grievous injury.  

With Debarghya out for the last day of work before the holidays, Anumegha, Debjani, and Mrinalini were the only ones at home. Debrishi was supposed to arrive home by the evening local train from Kharagpur. The three of them had gone out in the morning to the puja nearby, organised by the local club with the help of donations from certain benefactors, fundraising in the neighbourhood, and some aid from advertisers. The three women had offered their prayers to the Goddess, staying on and socialising for a bit with the other neighbourhood women who had been present there before returning home.

Debjani was observing a fast since it was considered auspicious for mothers to fast on Shashti, in honour of the Goddess Shashti, who is believed to look after children. Mrinalini was familiar with the fast, having seen Rai observe the same for her sake. Quite peculiarly, Brindadebi, her grandmother, had never observed the fast for her son. Initially, Mrinalini had believed it was because of her younger son's untimely demise that Brindadebi had lost faith in the fast or the rituals, her diligent following of traditional rules having failed to save him, but now she couldn't help but wonder if the matriarch of the Debnath household had ceased observing the fast for her son, in a silent act of disowning,  having been disgusted by his actions against her younger daughter-in-law, but powerless, and incapable of expressing the same vocally. 

The Acharya household was quiet despite the noisy boisterousness that saturated the air around. Mrinalini, having completed most of the household work for the day, was resting in the living room silently, occupied by the book in her hand. Debjani was seated in the armchair, right across from her daughter-in-law, reading a magazine. She had left the room to Anumegha, who had piled up assignments due to be completed and submitted before the examinations, which were knocking at the door. She had plans to go out with her friends later in the evening, thus prompting herself to push and get some work done by the afternoon so she could enjoy herself later. On more than one occasion, Mrinalini had offered to help her sister-in-law with her assignments and projects, subsequently aiding her with some research papers and proofreading them or helping her with PowerPoint presentations. Strangely, this made them forge a bond, paving the way to conversations ranging from politics to literature, fashion, college days, and in a most bizarre fashion, boys! 

Through the conversations, she learnt of Anumegha's relation with her fiance, a college senior from another stream, who had asked her out, having met through some mutual acquaintances and striking a chord with one another. Conscious of her sister-in-law's relation with her husband, she refrained from revealing anything too personal. Upon being asked about her maiden home and family members, friends from college, Mrinalini had replied politely whilst carefully steering her uncle and all the lingering despondent memories away from the conversation. 

"Child, do you not want to go out with your friends during these 4 days?" Debjani inquired, her voice distracting Mrinalini from her reading. 

She shook her head in response, silently conveying to her mother-in-law that she hadn't any plans. Her friends had invited her to go out with them, but she had refused firmly, requesting to be exempted. Being out of college for a couple of months, married, unlike her other pals, Mrinalini had felt resentment towards them, unconsciously comparing herself and her life to theirs. This had been weighing her down for quite a while, knowing that there was a subtle difference that would inevitably distance them and their perspectives. It could probably cause her to begrudge them for no fault of theirs, for them being free while she was committed, her future held promise, but vaguely. She wanted to withdraw from all those who reminded her of her past, good or bad, the past that she had left behind once and for all. 

"Do you not want to go out?" Debjani asked again, slightly confused at her daughter-in-law's stance. Most girls and women her age wouldn't blink an eye and enjoy going out with friends, socialising with people close to her age, but Mrinalini's indifference seemed so utterly contradictory. "Bouma, I was simply asking if you had any plans because I would appreciate it if you could keep yourself free on Ashtami, i.e., the day after. It is an auspicious day, so it would be nice if you could involve yourself in the ritualistic festivities."

"I don't have any plans to go out, Ma," Mrinalini said, responding to her mother-in-law. "I might go out with you, Brishti di, and your sons, but I haven't got any intention of going out with my friends. I will be here on Ashtami."

Though finding it strange, Debjani chose to accept her response without further queries. Their relationship though cordial, almost friendly, neither shared any particular closeness. Mrinalini deeply regarded her mother-in-law, thankful for her guiding presence in the household, grateful and relieved that they dwelled in peace, neither of them interrupting their relation with the one man who tied them together, her husband and her mother-in-law's son.  

"We can go out tomorrow!" Anumegha exclaimed, entering the living room and flopping herself onto the couch beside Mrinalini. "Boudi, come along. We'll discuss the perfect route for going out tomorrow!"

"Weren't you supposed to complete your assignments?" Debjani asked her daughter, amused at her overexcitement and enthusiasm. "You are not stepping out tonight unless you complete your work first."

"I am 25, Ma," she whined in response, looking towards her sister-in-law, seeking her support. "I'll complete it in time. For now, let me and your daughter-in-law map out and highlight the best routes for us tomorrow! I promise we'll enjoy it a lot, Ma."

"Keep it nearby, child," Debjani requested, reminding her daughter about her physical limitations and inability to move freely. 

...

8th October

Ashtami, the 8th day of Navratri, the eighth day after the new moon day that announced the beginning of Devi paksha i.e., the period of worshipping the Mother Goddess, following the month-long mourning period of Pitripaksha, traditionally, during which people were mandated to observe certain austerities, in honour of their dead ancestors and forefathers. 

The 8th day of the Sharadiya Navratri is regarded as the most auspicious day. Goddess Durga is worshipped in the form of Mahagouri, the supreme mother and the most ferocious warrior, loving and affectionate, present for her family and children, but never blinking an eye while standing up ruthlessly against the evil. During the last 24 minutes of Ashtami and the first 24 minutes of Navami (the 9th day of the waxing moon cycle), she is worshipped and paid obeisance to in the form of Chamunda, a blue-faced, fierce incarnation of the goddess, which defeated the two notorious demons, Chando and Mundo, thus deriving her name.  During these 48 minutes of Sandhi Puja, worshipped with 108 lit lamps and bloomed lotuses, the Goddess in this form is said to have been angered by a certain breach of battlefield rules when the two demons had attacked her together from behind. Enraged, the mother goddess's face had turned blue, and she had shown no mercy while slaying the evil, clearly signifying the need for women to speak up and fight against every kind of evil and injustice instead of suppressing their anger, pain, and need for retaliation. 

This day was Mrinalini's favourite day of the year. Having felt attracted to lotuses since childhood, the sight of 108 whole lotuses would fascinate her. Apart from that, she had as a child loved listening to stories and mythological legends about the Goddess's bravery and valour, of Lord Ram approaching the Goddess and starting this ritual of offering the lotuses, of the inception of the festival, and of Akal Bodhan or untimely invocation in the Autumn, which had come to replace the original celebration of the festival in the Spring. 

Standing in front of the mirror, Mrinalini draped the new sari that had been gifted by Debarghya, around her bodice. She groaned holding the pleats in her hand, the other hand resting on her hip as she arched slightly. Nursing a sore back having pulled a muscle unwittingly while attempting to lift a heavy, filled bucket in the bathroom, she was struggling to avoid straining herself further and ignore the pain. Although Debarghya had helped her apply some pain relief spray on the affected area, the pain refused to subside, nudging her every once in a while when she attempted to move. 

She looked over to Debarghya, who had been getting ready. He seemed to be looking for something, and it took her a few moments to realise that he had misplaced the gold buttons of his panjabi suit yet again. Sighing in annoyance, the pleats of her own sari coming off again as she attempted to direct him towards the bureau in their room where she had placed the buttons carefully, in the top drawer. 

Having retrieved the buttons from where Mrinalini had kept them, he smiled at her sheepishly, almost embarrassed at how dependant he had become on her in these few days of being together. Watching her struggle with the pleats of her silk sari, a new one, and something she wasn't used to wearing often, he couldn't help but contemplate how her presence in the household had brought about a significant number of changes, and though a few of them screamed negligence, like how she would always forget her wet towel on the bed, leaving it to soil the sheets, or how she would often leave the light in the bathroom on, he was glad and appreciative of her.

"The pain relief spray is such a hoax," he heard her say, hissing as she held her back. 

"I'll get you some pain relief gel in the afternoon, Mrinal," Debarghya assured her. "Do you need any help?"

Mrinalini scowled, her mood already sour because of the unprecedented injury. She asked him sarcastically, "I suppose you know how to drape a sari?"

Instead of being perturbed by her indifference, he shook his head, chuckling lowly, "No, I most certainly don't. However, I can make myself useful by holding on to those pleats that you keep messing up."

Contemplating on his offer briefly for a few seconds, she eventually gave a hesitant nod knowing that she was finding it difficult to bend, the pain hindering her from aligning the pleats properly. Moreover, she wasn't used to handling expensive silk saris like this, the last time she had worn one being during her wedding with her mother's assistance. For the next five minutes, with his assistance she meticulously used a few pins to secure the garment around herself while he held them in place, tucking in the pleats into her petticoat at the end. She smiled at him triumphantly as she straightened out the folds, happy, a slight tinge of rouge gracing her features when he said she looked beautiful. The cavalcade of paired nuptial bangles on both her wrists; conch, coral, gold, all of their gifts from her maiden home which had been lying locked in a jewellery box since the wedding, along with the single gold-plated bangle on her left wrist, a customary gift from her mother-in-law,  produced a slight sound as she posed in front of the mirror, preparing to run a comb through her tresses, gently easing her fingers through her hair, loosening the knots. 

"Don't braid your hair today," she heard Debarghya say in a low voice, suggestively as he threaded the gold buttons of his panjabi kurta. 

Nodding in response, choosing to honour his request, she grabbed a clutch tying a small tuft of her hair at the back, and leaving the rest down, cascading down her back in natural waves. With a red sticker dot nestled on her forehead in between her brows and liquid vermilion marking her parting in a thin red streak, she took a final look at her reflection in the mirror, her lips lifting upwards at the corners in a gentle, appreciative smile, before stepping out of their room. 

"Boudi, when did you buy this sari?" Anumegha exclaimed inquisitively as she regarded her sister-in-law. "It's so beautiful."

Debjani followed her daughter's gaze, observing the sari her daughter-in-law had worn. They had gone out shopping together a few weeks ago, but from what she could recall, they hadn't purchased this sari there. 

"Ask you elder brother," Debjani answered her daughter, reading in between the lines, smiling as she looked at her daughter-in-law.

Mrinalini bit her lip, not knowing how to answer. She had been greatly flattered by her husband's gift, but being teased by everyone together wasn't something she had been anticipating or been prepared for. While it was all in good humour and fun, it made her a little uncomfortable since she wasn't a great fan of being the centre of attraction, especially in a close-knit familial conversation where her husband's affection towards her was being talked about. 

"Brishti di, you look so pretty," Mrinalini spoke instead, diverting their attention. "This sari is honestly beautiful. Why don't the two of us go and click some pictures while Rishi gets ready?"

Enthusiastically agreeing with her sister-in-law, Anumegha sprinted off towards the balcony, grabbing her phone and her younger brother's, which had been lying on the centre table in the living room, to click pictures. Mrinalini followed suit knowing that she too would be made to pose for several pictures like the previous day when they had all gone out. The day had yielded a lot of fun and she had enjoyed it a lot. They had visited a few places around North Kolkata and had eaten lunch outside, much to the delight of the Acharya siblings who could partake in something non-vegetarian instead of the vegetarian meals they had at home. She had been glad to be outside too, enjoying the liveliness and celebratory vibes in the air. Having had the chance to dress in casuals for the first time since the wedding, in a cold-shouldered dress her sister-in-law had selected for her when they had gone out shopping, she had felt free, a sense of Deja Vue from her college days before marriage putting her at ease with herself. These 4 days of the holiday came only once a year, but she couldn't help but relish the fun that a family being together under a roof brought. With just a fleeting thought about the so-called family she had left behind, she turned to face her sister-in-law, steadying the smartphone in her hand to capture a picture at the perfect desired angle. 

"Ready Brishti di?" she asked. "Smile for the pic."

...

It was the night after a long day. Mrinalini, Debarghya, and Debjani had been fasting all day, breaking their fast only in the night after the Sandhi Puja had concluded. They had partaken dinner together quite late at 10, the three of them glad to have been able to quench their thirst and relieve their famished selves. 

After having bid a good night to the other three, Debarghya and Mrinlini retired to their room, him making the bed for a change as she changed out of her clothes. The night was warm with the slightest, almost negligibly cool breeze in the air. The wind chime in the room cherished joyously in its own rhythmic melody. Contrary to the sound and noise that had been abundant all day, there was a peaceful silence that reflected the succumbing of the City of Joy to fatigue, lost in gradual slumber. 

Opening the wardrobe in the room, Mrinalini, now dressed in fresh clothes, slid of her nuptial bangles from her wrists, keeping them carefully in a jewellery box. She removed a single pill from the strip of oral contraceptives proceeding to swallow it with some water from the bottle she kept on the bedside table. 

"Did you start taking these pills soon after we got married?" she heard Debarghya asking her. She nodded, her face stoic although she regarded the question with apparent unease and apprehension, unsure as to where the conversation was headed. Despite the tenure of their marriage being almost 2 months long, there hadn't been any tête-à-tête regarding plans involving children or family in the future. An unsettling fear crept inside her, making her heart palpitate, wishing fervently that he won't try coaxing her into giving up on her future and focusing on family instead. She had tried her best to avoid this kind of alliance and had agreed to his proposal. From whatever little she had come to know him, she had never imagined in her wildest nightmare that he could be capable of deluding her. She couldn't have misjudged him, or did she? After the shock that she had received about her uncle, there was little that couldn't be possible. 

Noticing her pallor and the way her clenched fists caused her nails to dig into her palms, he cleared his throat, looking at her inquisitively, confounded. He had asked her a question in general, totally unrelated to all the speculation that was coursing through her mind. 

"Mrinal," he spoke, addressing her, moving closer to her, touching her shoulder. "What's wrong with you?"

"Why did you ask me this question?" she asked him in reply, flinching at his touch. "I didn't want to become a mother at a young age. I am barely 21, and we didn't even know one another well when we married."

"This is getting out of hand, Mrinal," Debarghya responded, sighing in annoyance, realising the undertone in her voice. "I understand that you are still yet to overcome the trauma of betrayal and mistrust and that you have trust issues, but this can't continue. Stop making a mountain out of a molehill at every opportunity, and I am sorry to say this, but you are letting whatever transpired with your uncle and mother affect you and us. I am trying to be as patient as I can, but I am no God. This can't go on!"

"I am sorry," she replied in a small tone. "I am trying. I really am, but I don't know why it's so tough. It's gnawing at me. I know it's not something I should ponder over all day. I know I need to step out of it. I want to step out of it, but it's suffocating me!"

"I cannot tell you how to trust, Mrinal," Debarghya tried explaining in a cajoling tone, holding her in an embrace, feeling the stiffness of her body relax slightly as she hugged him back. She looked vulnerable and small, more so with her mere height of five feet and two against him standing at half an inch short of six feet. "No one can."

"Did you get that pain relief gel from the pharmacy?" Mrinalini inquired, breaking their moment and diverting the topic of conversation as she let out a wince. 

Later she sat on the bed quietly, her nightshirt raised and her back to him as he applied the gelatinous ointment on the affected area, his hand gliding across the expanse of her naked back, his fingers stopping at points where she said it hurt more, pressing on gently with minimal pressure, hoping to relieve her of the pain. Mrinalini sighed as the warmth from the gel brought some superficial instant relief. Her initially tense body relaxing visibly, involuntarily leaning back towards him, her eyes fluttering close.

"Try not to strain yourself for the next couple of days at least," Debarghya advised, his hands still massaging her back, moving towards the depression in her lower back where the paraspinal muscles were. "I am home till the day after. I can help you with some of the chores. And while my siblings are at home, resting and fooling around in all their glory, give them a chance to get some work done."

She smiled silently, her eyes still closed. She moved back further, letting her head rest on Debarghya's shoulder, her back almost touching the wiry, springy, and sparse hair of his chest. Done with the therapeutic application, he put aside the tube of gel, his hand going around her waist. 

"It's nice to have you at home for a few days, comparatively relaxed," she confessed to him. "By the way, do you know Sagnik's mom introduced me to a few of the other mothers she is acquainted with, today, and she recommended me as a teacher for their children. In fact, two of them took down my contact number as well. Don't you think it will be great if I get a few more students?"

"Sure," he replied. "Not on Sundays, though. Please."

"I remember."

He hummed in response, leaning in close towards Mrinalini, the pulsating beat of his heart resonating in the silence. His lips fluttered close towards her left cheek as he brushed them on her skin tentatively. She tensed for a moment, her pulse quickening as her breath became heavy. It wasn't the first time he had initiated physical contact or an act of intimacy, but each time her unusual fears and qualms would creep in, making her nervous.  

She arched her neck slightly, whimpering as the muscle pain kicked in momentarily, making her lean back again, slackening. She took his hand which was around her waist, threading her fingers through his, tightening her grip in a mock act of assuring herself that she was in control and that he wouldn't push her past a certain line. Unfazed by her fidgeting, Debarghya traced his lips along a path from her cheeks to the crook of her neck, leaving illusory, almost plumate caresses, his warm breath on her skin, scalding hot, igniting involuntary goosebumps. She gulped, releasing a short breath, turning gingerly, careful to not cause unnecessary strain on her muscles, her gaze meeting his, seeing his pupils slightly dilated. Fear gnawed at her ephemerally, but pushing it aside, she leaned in towards him, her gaze not leaving him, unsure yet determined, deciding to give in to her naive trust. 

Their lips met slowly, their movements cautious, exploring. They broke off, her grip around his hand loosening as he shifted making her lie on the bed gently. She winced vaguely at the sudden movement that caused her head to loll back, straining her already sore muscles, the heaving of her chest as she inhaled sharply, cutting the wince short as their lips met again, this time a raw passion coursing through, quickening their actions, their legs tangled together, heaving chests brushing against each other's, her hair sprawling across the pillow, untied and free. His hands. pressed up against her chest, caressing the soft, tender flesh of her clad breasts, his weight on her body causing warmth to surge through her.

Gasping for breath, Mrinalini withdrew, her palm against Debarghya's chest, pushing him aside, letting him know silently that she couldn't breathe. Her heaving bosom expressing the quickened pulse of her heart, her eyes slightly dazed as she looked at him. A thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead, lips parted, heat coursing through her, a seemingly heavy knot in her lower abdomen weighing her down. She bit on her lower lip, her face flushed, her heart racing as she looked at him, aware of his touch and closeness, of his hand, brushing against the soft pudge of her exposed belly, her nightshirt having ridden up, and the way his torso pressed against hers. She let out a soft whimper as Debarghya lowered his face to her sternum, pressing a light kiss, his coarse stubble rubbing against the soft skin of her cleavage, traversing to unravel unknown, unfelt feelings neither of them was previously acquainted with. 

Her skin at her midriff, from what he could see, now that the hem of her nightshirt had come up, was lighter in complexion, marred with a few occasional stretchmarks, a small patch of milky, beige skin, a birthmark shaped like a glob, standing out to the left of her navel. Caressing her sensitive skin, pressing a gentle peck at her navel, causing her to inhale sharply, causing her breasts to rise and fall, the vibrations from her racing heart apparent to him, amplified further by their physical closeness. Slowly, as he attempted to raise her top further, she jerked slightly in reflex, unsure. Her hand raised, not touching him, her lips parted, but the words unvoiced, her eyes reflecting a mixture of languourous curiosity and apprehension. 

"What are you doing?" she finally said, her voice hoarse. "The lights are on."

Reaching over, he flicked the switch, immediate darkness descending in the room, barring the dim moonlight and the yellow, halogen light from the street outside, streaming in from the window, kept partially open for ventilation. 

With their features barely visible to each other, Mrinalini immediately felt more comfortable, parting her lips to release a gasp as she realised he had raised her top further, exposing her naked breasts. Feeling a pattern of feathery kisses on her sternum and collarbone, across the soft protruding fresh of her cleavage, and on her sensitive areolae, she pressed her own palm on her mouth, attempting to quieten the involuntary vocal expressions of frisson. The hard enamel of his teeth brushing against her skin, an act of eroticism she was unfamiliar with, made her moan lowly, her feet fidgeting, wrinkling the bedsheet that he had straightened before retiring to bed tonight. Slowly, she pushed his face off her bosom, her red, mortified face, with clouded eyes, fortunately, invisible and incoherent in the dim light. Cupping his jaw, she attempted to lift her upper body, completely forgetting about the muscle pain, inevitably causing her to flinch and wince in agony. He chuckled lowly, his low-pitched voice seemingly ricocheting in the otherwise silent room, mingling with the gentle jingle of the wind chime and the stubborn creaking sound of the old, rickety ceiling fan. 

Lowering his face to Mrinalini's, their lips met in yet another kiss, moving gently against each other's, oblivious to the textural difference of their skin, feeling one another's closeness in an inexplicably intimate manner. Finally breaking off when she pushed him off gently, her palm firm on his sternum, her face turned away from his, Debarghya moved off, releasing her off his weight, lying down next to her, both of them breathing heavily. 

Laying next to one another, the heat emanating from their bodies, scalding, their languorous breathing, heavy and thick, in an unfamiliar cloud of intimacy, the rain of unexplored passion that had descended upon them gradually slowing down in intensity, the eerie silence of the night unusually deafening, as they drifted off, oblivious to the autumn leaves on the pavement outside, withering away. 

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: August 12, 2021

Author's note:

Hi everyone! How's the monsoon going on for all of you?

For me, the rain has been an integral part of growing up, my favourite phenomenon of nature, and every time that I see raindrops descending from heavenwards, I cannot help but think that it's such a blessing to be able to live and to feel the gentle caress of a raindrop on myself. My grandma believed that I love the rain because I was born on a monsoon day, a day that had yielded waterlogging and flooding in the City of Joy. 

It is endearing to see the rain now, the dust is washed away to reveal the greenery of the leaves it hides. It fills me with new hope each day, and I can only fervently wish that the world would recover and rejuvenate soon. 

If you feel like giving up, just look out and see the world once. It's filled with great reasons for us to cherish. From the wintry snow to the summery breeze, the beautiful rain, the vibrant autumn leaves that motivates us to look forward to one season after another, prompting us to hope to survive. 

I hope you all find reasons to be happy. I hope we all survive to see better days ahead of us. Let's stay connected. Let's not give up. I know wearing masks is becoming boring, but please do!!!

TAKE PRECAUTIONS. WEAR MASKS. SANITISE. Maintain PHYSICAL DISTANCING, but do remain connected through the heart <3. GET VACCINATED, please!

Take care everyone. 

I hope this chapter was alright, and I thank every single reader I have. You give me a strange feeling of hope each day that keeps me going even when I feel like giving up. Writing to me is something I cherish because I like dwelling in stories. Thank you for making this imaginary world complete for me. 

With love,

Elegiac_Damsel

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if Mrinalini has been able to touch a part of you.

P.P.S. Take good care of yourselves and those around you.