Mrinalini♦

7. Conversations

DEDICATED TO: divyanithya  mkamri bngbukwrm

"There was something about that night, in the room,

I felt the gap between us bridge.

The first time that you took my hand in yours, gently...

The random conversations between you and me;

The ominous breeze, the intoxicating scent that lingered in the air,

The little actions which told me you care.

The night was the harbinger of the life that was about to begin,

one which would witness and test the power of our love and companionship.

'It is just the beginning.' I reminded myself,

'Our life won't be a movie, imperfectly perfect.'

There would be uncertainty, pain inevitable, and hard,

but I hope to harvest some momentary love amidst it all.

The night witnessed us laying side by side; the silence echoing

a promise to hold on and never let go, even as we drifted off to sleep."

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

17th August

Third person's point of view:

The moon was hidden behind the dark and heavy clouds, heavy with moisture. The winds blowing at a tempestuous velocity caused eerie, squeaky noises at intervals. Bolts of lightning lit up the horizon at random moments. A night, accentuated with the immense humidity and non-stop showers graced the City of Joy. 

 Clad in a navy blue and silver, silk sari, which complemented the dark hues of the monsoon skyline, Mrinalini leaned against the headrest of the bed.

An overwhelming and ambrosial fragrance of jasmine lingered in the room. The sound of the rain slashing against the windowpane disturbed the tranquillity of the serene night. The strings of flowers that had been used to artfully decorate the bed, dangled in spirals from the bed frame. A small, intricate wind chime jiggled away happily as mistrals of wind caused it to oscillate. Mrinalini found herself smiling at the gentle chiming sound. 

Her eyes travelled hither tither about the room, as she drank in every detail of the chamber that was destined to see every aspect and memory of her new marital life.

The room wasn't very big. It was approximately the same size as her room back in the one-story house in Entally. The walls were painted in boyish shades of navy blue and white. There was a big old-fashioned, French window with stained glass facing the East and a three-door wardrobe had been adjusted next to it. The dressing table had been pushed to one corner of the room and Mrinalini was impressed with the fact that most of the furniture was colour-coordinated with the walls. The flooring was quite old-fashioned; cold and hard, cemented. An Ajanta wall clock ticked away, the periodic sound mingling with the erratic heartbeat of the new bride on her wedding night.

The time was close to 11 at night and Debarghya was nowhere to be seen. Mrinalini sighed and drew her knees close to her chest, sitting in a cocooned position. She was eager to take off the floral jewellery that she had been asked to wear. The skin around her wrist was beginning to itch at the friction due to the thin string of mogra that had been fashioned as a bracelet.