Published in History & Culture

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Published in History & Culture

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Nykaa | A short story

The sweet fragrance of rain drifted to her window, where she stood as still as a statue, making the moon her spotlight. Our heroine, or ‘Nykaa’ as she was dotingly called by her friends for the dramatic flair she had to her movements, was fond of the rain more than anything else, and she had good reason. It was raining ...

The sweet fragrance of rain drifted to her window, where she stood as still as a statue, making the moon her spotlight. Our heroine, or ‘Nykaa’ as she was dotingly called by her friends for the dramatic flair she had to her movements, was fond of the rain more than anything else, and she had good reason. It was raining when she fell in love. The tenderness with which the ground received the droplets was the same as the tenderness her lover showered her with. She extended her hand to catch some of the drizzle and feel their gentleness.

It was nature who comforted her after our Nykaa felt the numbing stab of abandonment and the harsh tranquillity of life. It was her belief that both of them shared the same sky, the same rain and the same sun that consoled her when she felt her heart close in. In a way, she supposed nature became her lover.
But tonight was different. Tonight, she wanted to remember everything so that she can forget. The mist on her hands made her all the more aware of her recollections. Our Nykaa remembered the early days of her love, when everything the poets wrote came true.

Flowers bloomed when they walked by, and the stars seemed to dull when they looked at each other. She reminisced about the moments which seemed to last forever. The promises they made, the smile forever they gave each other. She recalled the time when her love started to fade. How gradual and unnoticeable the inevitable changes had been. The flair she had, the joy she enjoyed, the affection she let herself get lost in started to lose its brightness. Her life revolved around her love, but now it was consumed by it.

But she could not in good conscience think that her love had grown rotten. After all, how can something so pure ever turn into anything putrid? Our Nykaa was losing the very reason she was called a heroine. And then it happened. It happened and she didn’t even know. Her love went away telling her that he would be back, telling her that when he is back they will live in a house far too big for them, making promises of an eternity together to her, telling her to wait for him, and she did. She waited for him with all her will for as long as she could.

There were letters, for the first few months at least, and her heart swelled whenever she read them. She was the character of a great love story and nothing, nothing can make her feel otherwise. Until, they stopped coming. She waited, wearing her best saree and her magnificent bangles, for another flicker of hope that insured her love, but she never received one. She has a ghost of a smile on her lips, which shines through her tears as she reminisces about these moments now. She was angry. She was angry because with him, he took away her spirit, he snatched her Nykaa from her when he abandoned her and without her spirit, what was she? Without her spirit, she, could not even answer to her name that everyone so affectionately called her.

She re-lived all her pain that night. She wanted to let go, she wanted to snatch back what he took from her. She wore a beautiful saree and magnificent bangles that night too, just as she had when her heart broke. Furthermore, she realised how at those moments, she deceived herself into thinking everything was everlasting because facing the temporary nature of life was too overwhelming. She let herself cry, she let out her heartache, she let herself remember, and then she allowed herself to forget.

There was a time when she loved him more than she missed him and there was a time when she hated herself more than she hated him, but now, right now, she loved her more than she loved him. She loved her tears, her being, her spirit more than she had ever loved him for she had let him go, our heroine had found her Nykaa again.
Her tears stopped, and so did the rain.

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