Dedicated to:  Anayaqueen123 RupalShah774 the_essence_soul

"Each day is a new day,

each dawn serves as a gateway;

to the future, drifting away from what has passed,

leading to a second that would momentarily last.

It is beyond human comprehension to know,

what unimaginable, and unexpected can follow.

It could potentially rain droplets of joy, and grace,

or there could be sorrow, followed by ill health.

There can be reasons to smile at the dawn,

or one would have to eagerly await the dusk.

There can be rivers of goodness overflowing,

or you could be greeted by a nefarious serpent's hissing.

The fruits you bite into can bring sweetness to the palate,

or with luck parlous, it could be a bitter poison.

What the dawn heralds is a day anew,

whether or not joy follows, is cryptic, and obscure.

Await the dawn, bid dusk a farewell,

open your arms, and breathe,

for each new day is an opportunity, a possibility

to obliterate, to begin anew, to seek light,

and bid adieu to the living nightmares, to obliviate,

all the memories that brought you pain, yesterday."

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

August 25

Third person's point of view:

Mrinalini felt a combination of contradicting feelings flood her heart as she stepped out of her maiden home. Confronting Barun and refraining her voice from cracking mid-speech had taken a lot of self-control and restraint. She had been sure that she would be relieved of the baggage of emotions that had haunted her for the past few days, but the ordeal was far from over.

The cloud of disgust, malice, disappointment, and sorrow that had descended upon her, after reading Rai's letter, had dissipated in the form of the downpour of words that she had uttered in pique and umbrage, but she had suffered equally, from the havoc that the gale had brought upon her.

She felt like she was leaving her home again as she had after her wedding. The pain more intense this time, because she was practically severing her ties with those with who she had lived all her life. It was an extremely emotionally drained and subdued Mrinalini who walked up to Ananda Palit's bus stand. A local bus headed to Shyambazar had just made a pit stop for new passengers.

Her hands trembled very slightly and she hesitated on the steps for a split second while boarding the bus. Mrinalini knew that there would be no turning back after this. She would be separated from her maiden home, from her neighborhood, from her family yet again, just that this time was the last. She sighed to herself, making up her mind and boarding the bus, heading straight to an empty seat by the window. Her eyes were dazed, and her heart was palpitating wildly. 

The soft breeze caressed her cheeks and caused lost strands that had missed her braid to fly hither tither. Mrinalini ceased lifting her hand to brush them away. Her gaze followed the passing buildings and cars that seemed to run in the opposite direction. The wind was almost refreshing even with the moisture-heavy, dense air of the humid afternoon. 

The bus came to a sudden stop, the brakes screeching, causing Mrinalini to jerk forward from her seat. She stabilized herself by grasping the bar attached to the seat ahead of hers, her lost mind returning to reality, as she straightened, and peeked out of the window to identify her location. There was visible congestion ahead, and the long line of vehicles stranded somewhere between Moulali and Sealdah caused an exasperated sigh to escape her lips, involuntarily. Even for citizens of the City of Joy, a traffic blockage brought no reason to celebrate, it only meant unwanted delays that were best avoided.

Pushing back the stray strands of hair away from her face, Mrinalini engaged herself in navigating the crowds, and the cars around. Her eyes caught the movement of those forever busy pedestrians who jumped over the barriers and crossed the road. She rolled her eyes at the two-wheelers navigating their way through narrow ridges and paths in between other cars, only to get stopped by the red light ahead. One particularly familiar scenario greeted her as she saw a man carrying his daughter in his arms, dodging the cars so that the two of them could board the bus. 

Mrinalini smiled fondly as the girl donning a Loreto Convent School uniform, walked up gingerly and took a seat next to her.  

"Hi! I was a student at your school you know," Mrinalini began, looking at the child.

The kid glanced at the young woman warily before looking away and approaching her father for help.

"She said hi. Shouldn't you be replying?" the man asked his daughter rhetorically.

The girl nodded and turned towards Mrinalini, grinning amicably this time, "Hi. I am Priyadarshini. I had been asked to not speak with strangers, and I don't know you, so I didn't say hello."

Smiling at the child's innocence, she introduced herself, "I am Mrinalini."

"I have never seen you at school. How can you be a student there?" Priyadarshini asked her, looking at her suspiciously, "Are you trying to trick me like that bad man who kidnaps children did in C.I.D. on television?"

The girl's father coughed, a mortified look gracing his face at his daughter's suspicious remarks. Mrinalini suppressed a giggle, "Sweetheart, I completed schooling around 3 years ago. You must have begun at school recently, so we haven't met. I am not trying to trick you."

The elementary school student who seemed witty for her age looked at Mrinalini in mock intimidation, probably an expression that she had picked from one of the drama shows aired on television. Not seeing any visible evidence or indication of Mrinalini being a kidnapper, she smiled and began chattering with no care, "I had my parents-teacher meeting today. My Mumma couldn't come as she has my little brother or sister in her belly, but Papa met my teacher, Sneha ma'am and she told him that I am a good student. She even gave me 3 smiley stickers on my report card, but she gave me a frowny sticker too because I talk a lot in class." Pausing to breathe, Priyadarshini tapped her chin a couple of times with her index finger, as she struggled to recall what more she had to say, "I recited three rhymes at the competition held last week, and I won the first prize. Papa said he will buy me ice cream before we go home."

A full, gleeful grin appeared on the child's face, satisfied that she had told everything to her fellow passenger, and senior in school. Mrinalini bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. The girl almost reminded her of her childhood. 

"That is such good news. You got three smiley stickers! And," her voice trailed off as she looked up at the bus conductor who had come around for tickets, "A ticket to Shyambazar please."

"I am going to Sealdah. We will take the train back home," chattered on the young schoolgirl, "You must come home someday. Please do come to my birthday party."

Mrinalini nodded with a slight smile gracing her lips, knowing with certainty that it was highly unlikely that they would meet ever again.

"Come along, child. Our stop's here," beckoned Priyadarshini's father, acknowledging Mrinalini with a polite nod.

"Bye!" the girl waved as she took her father's hand and made her way towards the door.

Mrinalini watched with a nostalgic fascination as the bus came to a gradual halt. Priyadarshini's father disembarked first and then turned to hold out his arms for his daughter. Her mind drifted off to a similar scene from her childhood; Barun holding her hand and crossing the street, lifting her in his arms and letting her rest her head on his shoulder when she would claim to be tired after a day at school.

Watching the little soul smile sweetly as she waved goodbye, looking back with an arm wound securely around her father's reliable shoulder, made Mrinalini freeze for a split second. With floating memories swirling around her head, all she could think of was the fact that it had never been her father who had held her reassuringly during a storm. It had never been her father's hand that she had held on to while navigating through huge crowds in the market. It beat her to think that the same man who had raised her, the same man whose hands she had held onto tightly, the same man who had given her hand in marriage, had been the one to inflict pain, catastrophe, and anguish upon her mother, his younger brother's wife.

Did his hands not tremble while he was committing such a shameful crime like it had when Mrinalini had fallen down the stairs as a toddler, and blood had been gushing out from a gaping wound on her forehead? Did no emotion flash through his eyes, like it had when the accumulated moisture in his eyes had spoken heights of his sentiments during Mrinalini's confrontation?

Mrinalini didn't know the answers to her questions, but a second later when she raised her hand to wave at Priyadarshini, her hand was steady, there wasn't a shiver or a tremble. There were no tears in her eyes, and her gaze remained undeviating, as she smiled at the gradually dissipating form of the child in her father's arms. She waved till the little girl turned away, and till the man and his daughter amalgamated into the crowd.

She didn't wave at the little girl, she waved goodbye to a delusion termed childhood, to all those moments that she had felt secure and safe, in the arms and under the guardianship of an abhorrent rapist.

Bidding farewell to the setting sun of her naivete, and welcoming the dawn of knowing and exploring the world, the cruel aspect of inhuman humanity that destiny that chosen to unveil to her, after years of perpetual ignorance.

...

It was late afternoon by the time Mrinalini reached home. Her mother-in-law had known of her plans to visit her uncle and had taken over the kitchen duties for a day. She opened the door for her flustered daughter-in-law, perspiring from the heat and humidity of the afternoon. Mrinalini pushed past her mother-in-law in a hurry, startling the older woman,  as she rushed towards the washroom, her hand clasped over her mouth, discarding her handbag and the cell phone carelessly onto the couch, as she passed the living room.

Debjani heard the door to her son and daughter-in-law's bedroom slamming shut, followed by the door to the restroom. She clasped her crutch in her hand and maneuvered her way to the kitchen, grabbing a half-cut lemon, a bottle of water, and a glass. Squeezing some juice out of the lemon and mixing it with water, stirring it with a spoon, and adding some salt and sugar to the concoction, hoping it would help Mrinalini combat nausea and fatigue that had been caused by the excessive heat, oblivious to the fact that there was more going on in the life of the ever-smiling young woman she had welcomed into her home as her daughter-in-law.

Mrinalini, on the other hand, was now pressing her forehead against the cool tiled wall of the shower as the water sprayed over her, wetting her dark and wavy hair, now straightened, and sticking to the expanse of her naked back. The suds of soapy water got washed away from her body, running into the drain strainer and dissipating like a gradually receding whirlpool. Her breath escaped in short gasps, as the aftermath of her nausea lingered. Heat, fatigue, and the emotional torture that she had had to become a victim had triggered an increased heavy flow of menstrual blood that had caused her to stain her sari. She glanced at the stain that now adorned her discarded sari, feeling more lost, weak, and exhausted than before. 

Fighting her drooping eyelids, she reached out to drag the six yards of fabric under the streaming jet of water, allowing the stain to dissipate gradually, so it could be cleansed easily later, using detergent. 

Turning off the shower, Mrinalini grabbed her towel from the rack and wrapped it around her torso before walking out of the restroom, and into the bedroom. She chose to select an old kurta with leggings, ditching the usual saris that she had been wearing since her wedding. She stepped out of the bedroom after drying her hair using the towel, conscious enough to not leave it on the bed, forgetfully, as she had a few times previously, much to Debarghya's displeasure and annoyance. She fixated her blurry gaze on her reflection in the mirror, her sunken, red eyes staring back at her, bespeaking her fatigue, and churned emotions. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the vein in her forehead pulsated wildly, an agitating buzzing noise echoing in her eardrums. The last time she had felt so helplessly troubled, Rai had been there, this time, she was miles apart from her mother.

A tiny gasp escaped her lips involuntarily as she sank onto the bed, her wobbly feet giving way, "Ma." 

Just then, a rap at the door caught her attention, Debjani's voice calling out to her, "Bouma? Are you alright?"

"Ma," Mrinalini managed to croak, her voice barely audible. 

"Child, are you in there? Say something," Debjani urged earnestly, her worry apparent in her manner.

Mrinalini lifted herself, her enervated muscles resisting the movement, as she reached out to unlatch the door, and open it for her mother-in-law. 

"What has happened to you? You look so pale!" Debjani exclaimed, sizing up Mrinalini's physical state from her appearance. "Here take this. This helps with nausea."

Mrinalini accepted the glass offered by Debjani, and pressed her lips to the rim, taking a small sip, the tangy, sweet, and sour water soothing her parched throat. 

"Ma," Mrinalini called out after drinking up the simple, but helpful concoction prepared by her mother-in-law. 

"Yes, child?" 

Mrinalini shook her head, repeating over and over again, tears welling in her eyes, "Ma. Ma. Ma."

"Bouma, are you missing your mother?" Debjani asked in a gentle tone.

"Ma," Mrinalini spoke again, in an incessant, and ceaseless manner.

"You are beginning to sound like a goat bleating, child," her mother-in-law spoke in mock anger. "Come out and eat now. You need some food. We'll talk after lunch."

...

"My uncle gave me our wedding album, Ma," Mrinalini informed her mother-in-law as the two of them cleared their plates and cleaned up together.

"Well, I would love to see the pictures, after my son comes back home," Debjani replied, with a smile gracing her face. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, Ma. It must have been the heat," answered Mrinalini, "Thank you."

"Now, listen child," her mother-in-law said. "You do not have to thank me. I am the mother of three children; one of them being a daughter. I can understand what you may be going through. The emotional turmoil, the heat, the major changes that greeted your life so suddenly, and the kind of loneliness that is quite common to new brides. I have been through this phase, so I can relate. Neither I nor my son, or anyone else in this household can replicate your maiden home, however, we can be a part of your family if you can accept us. Do you understand?"

Mrinalini nodded sheepishly. Her mother-in-law sounded just like a school principal chiding a child, and making her understand at the same time. 

"I used to be a teacher before," Debjani replied, almost like she could read her daughter-in-law's erratic thoughts.

Mrinalini jumped slightly, asking in a flushed manner, "Did I say that aloud?"

"No, I figured out you would want to know," Debjani replied, her lips twitching in amusement. "Name one of your favorite dishes by the way. I'll attempt cooking the same for dinner tonight."

"Ma, you don't have to. I can manage. I am well now," protested Mrinalini. "You find it difficult to stand or walk for too long, and you already did the cooking today. I can manage to make tonight's dinner."

"In our day, there were mothers-in-law who would never enter the kitchen after their son's marriage, and nowadays," she exclaimed, looking at Mrinalini in an intimidating manner, "there are daughters-in-law who protest when someone offers to help."

Mrinalini flushed a bright pink, "But ma...."

"What would you like me to cook for dinner tonight?" Debjani repeated, cutting her off.

"Okra?" her reply sounded like a question

"Okra it is. Now go to your room and rest for a while, and leave me alone to rest as well. Okay?"

She nodded, "Ma, please don't make the chapatis tonight. I know they require more labor as you'll have to knead the dough, roll them out and then bake. I'll request your son to buy some for us from out before he comes home tonight."

...

It was dusk by the time Mrinalini awoke. She hadn't realized how dead tired and drained she had been, but apparently, her body had, and Mrinalini had drifted off to sleep sans realization unintentionally. She splashed water on her face, refreshed from the rare afternoon nap that she had treated herself to. 

The phone kept by the bedside vibrated indicating an incoming call.

"Hello?" Mrinalini spoke into the speaker, pausing to yawn, still groggy from her nap, "Who is speaking?"

"Mrinal? It's me," Debarghya's voice reached out to her from the other end, probably confounded for her not recognizing his number. "I thought you had saved my number."

Mrinalini stifled another yawn, clarifying, "I am sorry. I had been asleep, and I picked up the phone without reading the name of the contact."

"Oh, it's fine. I just called to ask if you require me to get anything from the market on my way home,"  

"I want you to get around 10 chapatis from some hotel nearby," she began, wracking her brains to recall if there was anything else the household was running short on. "I need some coffee. Your sister was asking for a mosquito-killing racquet, by the way. if you find one, then get that too."

"Anything else?"

Mrinalini bit her lip before realizing that there was something he could get for her, but it would certainly create a slight awkwardness. She hesitated momentarily before finally deciding to say, "I... umm... need some sanitary napkins. I use the...."

"Mrinal?" Debarghya's voice interrupted her, as he spoke in an abashed manner, his voice lowered to a whisper, probably to evade others around from eavesdropping, "I have never purchased sanitary napkins before, and if you tell me the name of the brand and the size or whatever over the phone, I am bound to forget. It would be better if you can text me."

Mrinalini stifled a giggle, all her initial apprehension and discomfiture dispelling at his honesty. 

"I suppose that's all that you need?" Debarghya asked her, waiting for her to confirm.

"No," she blurted out. "Could you please get me some ice cream today? Vanilla flavored. I want some."

She could almost hear the smile in Debarghya's voice as he replied, "Of course I can. Just text me regarding what you need. I am on the bus now. I will make a stop by Big Bazar before returning home. See you soon."

"Stay safe on the road," Mrinalini told him, before disconnecting the call.

...

Hurriedly climbing down the stairs leading to the terrace, with a bundle of clothes in her hand, Mrinalini was stopped by her neighbor, Mrs. Nath, a middle-aged homemaker.

"Hi! Did you forget about the clothes drying? You are quite late than usual today. Are you well?"

"Um, yeah. I mean, I didn't forget. I... fell asleep today," Mrinalini replied, polite despite her unease. "I am alright. Thank you for asking. How have you been?"

"Me? I am well. Living life, and managing in some way. My son is struggling with his schedule and academic management. I swear my hair is turning grey with the way he is going," the older woman confided in Mrinalini, almost like she was relieved to have been asked how she was doing.

Mrinalini smiled, "You sound like my mother. She would be concerned about me all the time. Anyway, is your son worried about a particular subject?"

The woman sighed, shaking her head, "His father thought that he would do well in Engineering, and my son agreed. We enrolled him in special coaching classes for the entrances, near Manicktala. He goes there from school directly, thrice a week. Lately, he has been unable to manage his classes and school. He has been scoring dismally, especially in Chemistry. His school teachers are reprimanding me continuously. I have an undergraduate in Bengali, and his father is a major in Accounting. Neither of us can help him with the subject, and I couldn't find any tutor nearby willing to take him midterm, especially with the half-yearly examinations around the corner."

Mrinalini felt a sudden rush of adrenaline, a thrill coursing through her veins at the possibility. She spoke in a flurry, "I am a Chemistry major. I am not experienced in teaching, but your son can ask me if he has any doubts. I can help him once in a while if he needs."

Mrs. Nath's face lit up, "Why would he ask you doubts once in a while when you can take classes once or twice a week? You are young too, so you will certainly not be like the teachers he keeps complaining about. Moreover, you live next door, so my son will not have to travel to and fro. Will you be willing to teach him?"

Excited at this new opportunity, Mrinalini wanted to say yes immediately, but she chose to pause as she was yet to speak to Debarghya.

"I am not sure, but I..."

Mrs. Nath interrupted her almost immediately, "I'll pay you every month up till his boards. He is in 11th grade at the moment. This month is about to come to an end, why don't you begin from next month. I'll get Sagnik to speak to you once beforehand so that you can fix up a day and timing convenient to the two of you."

"I am tempted at the opportunity to help Sagnik, but I need to speak to my husband once. You know just to inform him," Mrinalini explained. 

"Oh that," Mrs. Nath commented, hiding a small smile. "Let me know after you speak to him. I know a young girl like you has all the reasons in the world to feel bored at home. Teaching or tutoring for some time a day will keep you sane."

Mrinalini nodded, yielding a smile in acknowledgment. "See you later."

...

An hour later, Mrinalini was observing her mother-in-law keenly, as she showcased her culinary skills in the kitchen. Anumegha and Debarghya weren't home yet. 

Despite Debjani's caring attitude towards her earlier, which had worked as an ice breaker, there wasn't any conversation exchanged between the two of them. The television was on, and the dialogues of some Bengali daily soap screamed into the silent household. 

"Ma, are you watching what is on?" Mrinalini asked Debjani, annoyed at the ongoing daily soap interrupting the peaceful silence.

"No. You can turn off the television if you so wish," her mother-in-law shrugged. "Why is my daughter so late today? It is past 8. Did she call you by any chance?"

Mrinalini shook her head, almost scoffing inwardly at her mother-in-law's expectation. 

"She will be home soon, Ma. Don't worry."

"And what about Deb? Did he call you? Why is he so late today?" Debjani asked Mrinalini, the incessant worry that wasn't uncommon to Indian mothers discernable.

"Ma, he will be home soon. As will your daughter," Mrinalini told her decisively.

Debjani looked at Mrinalini, and shrugged, turning back to her cooking. The next 10 minutes were silent, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. 

Mrinalini was up on her feet in a jiffy, going to the door, and unlocking it. Anumegha and Debarghya both stood there sharing a laugh over something.

"Ma, both your children are home," Mrinalini called out to Debjani, glancing at the two siblings.

...

"Thank you for getting me ice cream today," Mrinalini whispered, as she passed Debarghya on her way to the kitchen. There had been three cups of Vanilla ice cream along with Chocobar, a strawberry ice cream, and a few cornettos probably for his sister and mother, and himself.

"I got your sanitary napkins too. I have kept them in the washroom," he told her in a low voice. 

"Thank you," she replied, shyly. "Ma was waiting for you so we can take a look at our wedding album, together."

"I will be there, soon."

"If you are going for a smoke, then be rest assured that I'll cease speaking to you from this moment," Mrinalini informed him, maintaining eye contact, her jaw rigid.

Debarghya let out an exasperated sigh, "Come on! You cannot expect a miracle to happen in a week."

"I do not expect a miracle to happen, but it doesn't seem like you are putting any effort to quit smoking."

Debarghya pressed a hand to his forehead, turning away from Mrinalini's fuming accusatory gaze. 

"I...."

His voice trailed off as Anumegha's voice screamed from Debjani and her bedroom, "Dada (older brother), Boudi (Elder sister-in-law, elder brother's wife), come here. Boudi, get the photo album with you."

"Arghya, I do not want to argue with you. You know smoking isn't good for you. Why do you insist on intaking nicotine?" Mrinalini asked him, her voice low, and soft, concealing the anxiety and anger coursing through her.

Sighing, Debarghya nodded, turning promptly towards his mother's room, leaving Mrinalini to grab the album and follow soon after.

...

"You went still when you saw your uncle's picture," Debarghya stated, looking at Mrinalini who was laying still, next to him, her back facing him.

He heard a small hum in reply, which would have been missed had he not been paying attention. Scooting closer to her, he placed a hand around her waist, pulling her towards him. her back touching his chest.

"Mrinal," Debarghya called her, his voice husky, his lips brushing against Mrinalini's ear, as he held her close. "Do you want to say something?"

Mrinalini replied with a gentle shaking of her head, bringing her hand and resting it atop his hand that was lying on the curve of her waist, where her hips met her abdomen.

"I went and confronted him today."

Debarghya's grip tightened around her waist, causing Mrinalini to turn and face him. Her eyes were deep, and hollow, despite her steady gaze.

"I am okay, Arghya," she stated, her voice hushed. "I will be fine soon. Totally fine. He took away a part of my childhood, but I won't let him ruin the days that are yet to come."

"It is always easy to say, isn't it Mrinal?" Debarghya asked her, his deep gaze boring into hers. "Can you actually be strong enough to practice what you are preaching?"

Mrinalini laughed, "I never thought I would strong enough to absorb and accept what Ma confessed in her letter, and I am sure my mother wouldn't have imagined or anticipated what happened with her, till it actually did. I never imagined I would have to be strong enough to face the man who ruined my mother's life, and a part of my childhood with his presence."

She paused to breathe, her glance wavering to Debarghya's face, looking for his reaction to her rambling. He blinked, urging her to continue speaking, "Neither I nor Ma discovered the strength we had, till we absolutely had to. Situations make us strong. If I could be strong enough to face him today, I can and I will be strong enough to cast his shadow aside from my life and ours."

She smiled at him, waiting for him to say something. He didn't.

Mrinalini felt him squeeze her hand slightly, breaking her resolve. The smile on her face replaced by muffled sobs, as she hid her face in his chest, seeking solace in his embrace, allowing all her emotions to drain out in the form of saline droplets birthing from her eyes, and coursing down her cheeks. 

"No one is strong enough to totally let go of what happened, Mrinal," Debarghya whispered, holding her in his arms, as her whimpers subdued gradually. "You cannot let go of bad memories. You just have to be strong enough to place the distress in an archive in our memory, far from the future that you have to be brave enough to face."

Mrinalini nodded earnestly. This was it, the dusk. She just had to survive the night, so she could face the inevitable dawn to welcome a promising, hopeful future.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 19th January 2021

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi! Long time!

First of all, sorry for disappearing. I am alive, in case any of you here feels I was dead. God has been gracious to have kept me well. How are you all doing?

So firstly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARINI! Hanz7781

She is my best friend, my worst enemy, my Idly partner, my computer student, my reader, my writer, my meme-maker, my crazy friend, my caring mother hen, and so much more. The motivation that helped Elegiac_Damsel take birth. She,  in plain words, is an angel who I love, hate, and cherish.

Thank you for being there always. You mean way more to me than I can express via words. Wishing you a great year ahead, and love you loads. 

To Harry, from Shubha. <3

Coming back now, thank you for reading. It genuinely means a lot to me.

Love,

Shubhadittya

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if you feel Mrinalini and I are deserving enough.

P.P.S. Take care of yourselves and live life to the fullest.