INDELIBLE EPOCHS | Anidita OS

🌼Saudade🌼

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Dusk is falling on the busy city of London.

The thin strikes of blue in the vast azure sky, stealthily went away fearing the anticipating darkness of night.The shy orange got mixed with bold red to form a hue of pretty peach to flew straight through the open window of the small chamber.

The bright cantaloupe shade of the slanting sunlight kissed the inked words on the dairy above the window side table, invading her privacy.

"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕'𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒊 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆."

The ocean blue fountain pen stopped its ministration on the thin pages as the fingers clasping it got busy in drying a corner of the sensative page, not giving damn to her wet cheeks.

In an attempt to reach her, the pen rolled across the table to the edge. It was saved by her palms before falling and breaking into numerous pieces, to stab her already wounded heart.

That pen was a gift. A gift from her....
She doesn't know who he is to her. Her once patibabu but not anymore.
After divorce he have never cleared about their relationship.
The step that they had taken years ago for the shack of the society lead her to London.
Far from her motherland. Far from her mother, her family, her...

A heavy stroke of breeze collided with the fragile pages to make it flutter.

The pages holding her hearts content got flipped to reveal the other unseen side of it with the dark tiny botches of tusche imprinted laterally opposite.

A sarcastic soft chuckle made its way out of her lips at the seeming paradox of life and words.

People often remarks "Forget the past. It doesn't matter!". They say with so much confidence as if they are the greatest philosopher.

How is it even possible to forget someone who had left their imprints on you?! Her mind screamed the question for the ones she don't know. Indistinct people.

She doesn't know about others but her past do matter. Her past acts as the fuel to move forward in the path of persuing their dreams.

It provides her the strength to do something for the women waiting for a change back in Hindustan.

Her eyes roamed all over to finally fell onto the white skin of her hand.
"अनिरुद्ध बोंडिया!" Their names inscribed together was gleaming with the evening light. Her eyes admired their names together to relishing those paining moments.

Her dried cheeks were again flooded with the warm gush of fluids of emotions as her mind drifted back to the memory lane, bruising herself all over again with the thorns of the dried rose of her heart's diary in the process.

"This is your room Miss Bondita!" A old lady dressed in her regular white dress with a cross right on her chest showed Bondita a small chamber with a fluffy soft single bed, wardrobe and a study table.

"Males aren't allowed here so from next time you can meet her in the meeting room.!"
Looking at Anirudh with a sharp gaze as she said in her strict acsented voice and went away without giving a reason for letting him in even after restrictions.

Maybe, maybe she has noticed the profound melancholy of their lachrymose eyes.

The new room of Bondita was quickly welcomed with a awkward silence after the women went away.