12
𓂃𓊝𓂃
There vendors were selling vegetables and fruits near the building. I bought some vegetables required for that day in the morning and walked down the street in search of the grocery shops. On my way back after buying the groceries, I found a small book store. It was old; there were cracks in the wall like veins on a human body. I went inside out of mere curiosity. The shop wasn't spacious, but it wasn't confined either.
"Good morning, what do you need?" A cheerful woman greeted me. She wore a green salwar, and her hair was neatly braided.
"Nothing. I'm just taking a stroll." I replied.
"Are you new here? She asked, scanning me.
"Yes. I'm Vikram Bansal's wife."
"The writer?" She raised an eyebrow. I nodded.
"Yes. You know him?" I asked.
"Of course I do. He buys books from here." She said. "But... You're so young to be his wife." She said as she looked me up and down. I smiled awkwardly in response.
"Anyways, I'm Falguni. What's your name?" Falguni was a widow in her late twenties who ran the book store.
"Roopali." I said.
Well, Roopali, we've got a lot of books here. Since you're new here. Consider this as my gift." She handed a book to me. I glanced at it. It was 'Bijak' by Kabir Das. My heart thumped. Memories rushed to my mind as waves crashed against the shore. The classroom, the silly disagreement over Kabir Das' poem, my story getting split into two pieces, me punching his face.
"Sorry, I have read this." I lied and refused politely. "But I'll come back to buy some books soon." I said and walked out.
When I reached home, Vikram wasn't there. A stack of papers was on his table. 'Chapter 20', was written on top of it. Vikram wrote novels for the Weeklies. That was how he earned a living. I skimmed through the papers, doing a quick read. The content of the story wasn't to my liking. It was derogatory, pointless, and had the most stereotypical and bimbo female character, whose only job was to please the man.
"Why the hell are you going through my stuff?" Vikram angrily snatched the papers from my hand.
"I... I was curious." I managed to say.
"You need to fucking curb your curiosity. And don't ever touch my stories." He snapped at me. I wasn't surprised by his outburst. I don't know why; I just wasn't shocked at all. Maybe because I never expected my husband to be the most picture-perfect person ever.
"Don't you have anything else to do in the kitchen?" He asked irritably.
"Yes." I replied.
"Then why are you still here? Go. Cook something. It's almost time for lunch." He said. While walking to the kitchen I realised that I had turned out to be exactly like the woman in his story-someone whose only duty was to obey her man.
____
Months later, I received a letter from Khushi, which briefly put an end to my loneliness. Her letter felt like raindrops falling on arid land.
Roop,
I am really sorry that it took me this long to write to you. It was really hard for me to get your address from your wicked stepmother. I have a lot to tell you. A lot! I wish you were here. First thing, you won the bet. The exam results came. You scored 25 points more than Apoorva. You should've seen his face when he realised he lost the bet. Oh, and that Jagadish-he and Apoorva ended up in a nasty fight a few months ago. The reason is unknown. The last thing I heard was that Apoorva moved to Bombay for college or something. Well, who cares about these rich people? And that Rasmi from class eloped with a man. It made a huge fuss here.
God! I don't know why I am telling you all this gossip. I should be asking about you. But I fear that you might not be happy there. I really hope that I am wrong. I want you to be happy, wherever you are. I am waiting for you to write back.
With love
Khushi.
I broke down into a puddle of tears. Maybe I shouldn't have wished for a letter from anyone to kill my loneliness.
____
So, this is more like a filler chapter coz I've been sooo busy for the past few days.
I went to watch the new Barbie movie. Can't wait to watch Oppenheimer tomorrow. Have you seen them? What's your take?
YOU ARE READING
The Waves Whisper ✓
RomanceAt 16, Roopali Agarwal was forced by her stepmother to work at the house of the boy from her class whom she despised the most. At 21, she discovered she had feelings for him. At 30, she became one of the most popular female authors in India. Even...
