Using Prompt #4 :Spring.They say it means a new beginning or season of hope but for me, it was quite different/opposite.

Spring means season of beginning; a symbolism of hope, but for me, it seemed exactly opposite.

I loved Baisakhi, the festival of harvest. Each year we went to our paternal village to celebrate the festival. When I was 14 years old, our family decided to go to our village Phillaur to celebrate Baisakhi.

One afternoon I eagerly went to the annual village fair of Baisakhi with my younger brother. I was holding his small hands while my brother was looking at the wooden toys at a stall. We both ate shaved ice cream balls dipped in different flavored syrups.

My brother saw a Ferris Wheel. He happily ran towards the ride leaving my hand before I could stop him, he vanished in the crowd. I searched for him everywhere, but he was lost in the fair.

I was frightened when I reached back to my village home. My family searched for my 6-year-old brother Rishabh, but he disappeared as if he never existed. As a 14-year-old teen, I was shattered after losing my only brother.

Everyone blamed me for being a careless sister. I, too, cursed myself for losing Rishu. Everyone hated me, and I too hated myself to the fullest. I was sent to a boarding in Shimla as no one wanted to see my face. I, too, thought I deserved this hatred, and I left for the boarding with a heavy heart.

For the next 4 years, I didn't see my family. I was forbidden to spend my vacations at my home. It felt like an orphan with no home, no family.

As my school finished, I applied for a reputed college in Rishikesh, Uttarakhand. Luckily, I got admission on merit due to which I got full scholarship. My family didn't have to spend a penny for my college and I couldn't be more grateful because taunts of my parents were more painful than bullet shots and I couldn't be a burden on anyone.

My first year of college was going great until that nightmare happened, breaking me to the core. It was mid-March and the last of my exams. Students were in a happy mood for 2 reasons. First the exams had ended and second the festival of Holi was arriving.

Holi, the festival of colours, the festival celebrating spring, was something Rishu and I waited for Holi throughout the year. We played with water balloons, dry colours ,water guns. We both loved playing pranks and drenching everyone on the day of Holi.

I missed Rishabh every day, but on Holi the grief I felt cannot be described in words. So, this year too, I decided not to play Holi and I stayed inside my hostel room. My roommate Sneha went out to the courtyard of the hostel to play with her other friends, while I decided to take a nap. I had asked Sneha to bolt the door from outside so that no one disturbs my sleep.

Soon I slipped into a dreamless sleep. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my leg, I thought that may be Sneha had returned and was trying to wake me up to play with colours. I kept my eyes closed pretending to be in deep sleep, little did I know my life will turn upside-down in a matter of minutes.

I felt like someone removing my top, I opened my eyes, panicking. I saw my batch mate and his three friends in my room. They had locked the room, I could not escape, the floor was empty because all the girls of the hostel were in the courtyard downstairs. My screams too got drowned with the loud music, people were busy dancing downstairs. No matter how much I shrieked, my voice would not reach any ear except those monsters who took turns to rape me.

I was numb, shocked and petrified. I thought to take help from my warden, Mrs. Kumar. Furthermore, I had a little hope that I would get justice, but this word hope is not meant for me. That warden instead of supporting me pointed fingers at me. According to her, I was the one at fault, I stayed in the room alone, I was the one who lured the boys in my room. The culprits had powerful backgrounds, one of them was grandson of the chairman of the college.

On the hand I had no family, no strong contacts and most importantly according to society I was a woman trying to trap rich boys for money. I was called a slut, whore and what not. Some even thought I was faking #Metoo, and it was all a publicity stunt to earn money.

All this mess disrupted my life. I was forced to leave the college and my studies. I had not guts left to face my family and tell them I was gang rapped and thrown out of the college.

With help of my roommate Sneha ,I got a job at a small eatery of Maggie noodles in Chamoli, Uttarakhand. Slowly time passed, I made Maggie noodles for the café and to earn extra money to pay the rent of my small room, I washed the dishes too. One year passed, the Spring season which kept ripping me apart again came, the valley saw lifeless trees coming to life.

Tourism bloomed in Chamoli during Springtime due to the Valley of Flowers National Park. The park is the best ecosystem, I have ever seen, with the lovely Pashupati river following through the thick forest. The national park is home to a diversity of vegetation, animals, and the flowers that bloom here during the spring time are nothing but pure beauty.

Spring had given me so many scars that I could not think of the beauty it holds for the rest of the world. One day, I was busy working at the eatery, it seemed like an ordinary day for our small eatery. Rajesh, the only waiter of the eatery, was rushing from one table to another, taking orders and placing food on the tables of tourists who had traveled here from foreign countries.

I, too, was trying to make Maggie in bulk, our eatery served coffee too. Minal my co-worker was making coffee with a happy face as she knew more money to the eatery will give more salary to us.

As I was done with Maggie, I saw Rajesh, he looked tired. I thought to help him in serving tables. I, too, started helping, Rajesh asked me to give the order on table no.7.

I kept the plate of Maggie, but I spilled coffee on a customer's shirt. Spring time is a jinxed time for me, I thought to myself as I hurried for a napkin. I spoke stammering, I tried to use every possible English synonym of the word 'sorry' to apologize to the customer.

All this while I kept my eyes lower in shame and embarrassment. My mind was prepared to get a good scolding from the customer but to my astonishment reverse happened. This customer spoke out something which I could not understand, but his tone of speaking was polite and warm.

I looked up, and I saw the most beautiful eyes in the world. His eyes were a mixture of blue and green. He had a translator who spoke out in English for me to understand. Through the translator, I got to know that this man was not angry on me. I thanked this kind man.

As I turned around, the man spoke again something to his translator. The translator called me, and he spoke out, "Mr. Norman Laurent has been traveled to India for the first time, in other states of India people had asked more money for their services thinking that they could easily fool a foreigner. Norman paid to them as he didn't have the time to argue with greedy people, but now Norman wants help of a some local to guide him in the Valley of Flowers National Park. He thinks you can guide him well, being a local, honest resident".

I wanted to say no politely but at that instant our eatery owner came, and he asked me to help Mr. Norman. Our owner knows our eatery works well due to tourism. So, he was thinking to please Mr. Norman which one day may bring Mr.Norman's friends to our eatery.

I obeyed to the owner as I could not lose this job at any cost. It was late afternoon when we made our way to the Valley of Flowers. With Orchids, Marigolds, Poppies, Daisies and Anemones, the Valley of Flowers looked like a scene straight from the Heaven.

At first, the translator was helpful in translating my words to Mr. Norman, but then the translator's ankle sprained.
Mr. Norman told the translator to sit down and asked me to accompany him.

I was hesitant and scared to go to Mr. Norman all alone. My terrifying past made it difficult for me to trust men. I internally prayed for my safety as I showed Mr. Norman the various attractions of the National Park.

I used gestures and expressions of my face to convey Mr. Norman what I meant. We returned around late evening. Mr. Norman tried to pay me for showing him the park as his tour guide.

I simply denied it. Firstly, I was not helping him for money. Secondly, guests are God in our culture, then it would be a sin to ask money from him.

Next day, Mr. Norman again came to our eatery, I thought maybe he liked the coffee; therefore he came again. But to my surprise this time he wanted me to show him different places of Uttarakhand and northern India. My boss agreed and gave me a holiday of 2 months.

I could not believe it all happening in front of my eyes. Next morning we went to Kedarnath and Nanda Devi. Then Mr. Norman asked if we could see Rishikesh. The name of the city brought chills to my spine, but I remained calm from outside.

We entered Rishikesh, I kept my emotions away and made Mr. Norman visit best places of Rishikesh. Rafting was the highlight of Rishikesh.

Somehow Mr. Norman sensed my gloom, although I tried my best to appear happy. Mr. Norman asked the Translator to get some water bottles from the car.

As the translator Kunaal went away, Mr. Norman asked me the reason of my sadness through signs. At this time,I broke down, I told him my tale of Rishikesh. I still don't know how he could understand what occurred to me may be he understood the ache of my heart, he understood my feelings without words which others could not.

Next place was Shimla after that we went to Punjab and Delhi. Two months passed quickly. I had tears in my as Mr. Norman left for his country, France.

After his departure, I understood how deeply I had fallen for Mr. Norman. I met him in spring season and miraculously love bloomed in my gloomy heart.

I returned to my work. Each day I thought of Mr. Norman, his eyes, his smile, but my rational brain knew we were not made for each other. Secondly, it was all one-sided where I was loving him because he cared for me while he had no feelings for me.

6 months passed, I forgot about my first love. But life had other plans, Norman again came to the eatery. This time he confessed his love for me. I was in happy tears, I was finally getting the love of my life, someone really cared about me.

I learned basic French to apply for a visa to France. Since my financial status was not good, my visa got rejected. I lost all hope to have a future with Norman.

But Norman never gave up on our love, instead he made me set up a restaurant in Delhi. He worked along with me to make this restaurant a success with real flavours of Paris. Gradually I earned good money which made me earn a visa easily.

I went to Paris to meet Norman's family. I found the family warm and welcoming. Soon we both got married. I was amazed to see the maturity Norman's family possessed, they never said anything about my relation with my family which is normally questioned in the society .Rather they welcomed me in their family with love, care and respect.

Soon I got citizenship of France. Everything felt surreal, and I was having the time of my life. I shared my first kiss with Norman at the Eiffel Tower, the symbol of love. Time was drifting, making beautiful memories.

Soon I got the happiest news of my life, I was pregnant. Norman literally cried when he heard the news. I was eagerly waiting for the baby to arrive. Norman too was excited to welcome the baby.

Then Easter day came. Easter also celebrates the spring season . It was my first Easter, and I was eager like a small kid to celebrate it. First we went to the church for a special service of Easter. Then we had a family lunch. We clicked lots of photographs together. Egg painting was my favourite part of the festival. The day so blissful.

At evening, I craved for ice cream and I wanted to spend some romantic moments with my hubby, spring around the city was making everything romantic for me .

Norman took me to an ice cream parlour. Norman kissed my forehead and then he affectionately kissed my baby bump. We found out that we were about to have a baby boy, I was elated, and I planned to name him Rishabh, to which Norman agreed happily.

As we were returning, a car from the opposite direction rammed into our car. Everything went black after the hit when I regained my senses, everything was gone.

My baby had died, my husband Norman had died on the spot of the accident. I had woken up after a 6-month-long coma. Neither I could see my unborn nor my beloved husband for one last time.

Norman had not only taught me to love him, but he always told me," Spring brings beauty to life with new beginnings". Norman had made me love and appreciate Spring season.

But Norman was wrong about Spring. Yes, indeed Spring is the season of new life, hope and happiness. But Norman totally forgot that Creation and Destruction takes place at the same time on earth.Spring means creation to the world, but for me, it means destruction. If Spring is the symbol of hope for people, then it is a symbol of despair for me .

I wish to go back in time and stop myself from getting trapped in Vernalagnia on that fateful evening which took my baby and husband. Vernalagnia means a Romantic mood brought on by spring;spring fever. Vernalagnia made me fall in love with Norman as I met him in Spring time and the seeds of our love had bloomed in the Valley of Flowers. Ironically, the same Vernalagnia took away Norman and our baby from me.