Hidden Hues Of Henna

Dil ka aalam (I)

The only way out of the difficulties of life is through.

Her brother had told her the very thing time and again all through her  years until it became a part of her subconscious mind.She firmly believed that whatever it was that life threw at her,she would always find the courage to see the end of it.And she had.

When her morphed pictures had been leaked on the internet.

When her marriage had been fixed abruptly.

When she lost her best friend all of a sudden in a tragic way.

When she was widowed the very night she got married.

Pallavi Sawant had fought through every small and big battle she had come across.Ofcourse,she had made mistakes in the way but she had also done her best to learn from them.She had lost belief in the journey countless times but had faught tooth and nail to find it again.She had cried the most sorrowful tears,lost,tired and all by herself,only to force a smile upon herself the next moment when someone needed her.

People around her had forever bowed to her undying spirit. Why would they not?There was no spirit as used to fighting as her's and there was no belief as stout as her's.But like everything else in the world,her tolerance too had a limit.

A limit which had been tested by too many people,too many times only for it to finally be crossed.

Where did I go wrong?

She had asked herself the question more times than she could remember.

There, sitting with her back leaned against the main gate of the Deshmukh's house,she had repeatedly rummaged through her memory, dissecting every moment just so she could find an explanation for all that happened to her. All that happened today and every other day since she stepped foot in Hyderabad.

People had walked past her,she had seen some stop and talk and knew that a handful had recognised her too but none of them had taken it upon themselves to enquire anything of her. Maybe they felt it unnecessary?Maybe they were having fun at the pathetic state of her? Maybe they thought of her as a mad woman?Who knew and who cared? Pallavi did not for sure.

A gush of air flit past her and Pallavi felt herself shiver. The slight chill of the setting sun and the coldness of her insides were adding up,making her finally come out of her shocked state.Was it already evening?

Lifting her eyes up from the ground she saw the teary red colour of the sky and the chirping of birds as they flew past leisurely, probably to return to their homes.

Home.

Behind her,was the place,the people,she had called home for over an year and she meant it all. She had wholeheartedly accepted the Deshmukhs as her family and their house as home. She had faught through every unwelcoming element,had gone through nights of tears and days of stress,had showered love and care as if she owed them a life. She had compromised her morals too,had lied continuosly and had borrowed money upon her name for the first time in her life.She had born the brunt of taunts and gossips and had held her tongue for the sake of Mandaar's parents whom she had made her own.She had put the family,their traditions and beliefs over everything she had known and believed  and she had let them diminish her being,accuse her character and doubt her intentions.

Everything,Pallavi realised. She had done everything.

Guilt,sorrow, heartbreak —things she did not know previously,she had felt it all in that house behind,the very one she had called home and tried to make it her home too.

But the truth was,it was not her home. It could never be.

She had tried to find home in every room,every wall,every corner of the Deshmukh Niwas but nothing had brought the solace,the familiarity. She had loved every person of that family and assumed their love for herself too,just for the sake of keeping her heart with them but it was never true. The truth was that she was as much an outsider to them and their house today as she was when she had come there as a new bride.