The Moon to my night

9

∞Testimony to the moon∞

Rudransh Singh Chauhan

Those graceful twirls of her white dress, the delicate twists and turns of her wrist, the elegant sway of her arm - each movement was mesmerizing. Little fringes of her hair had escaped from the bun adorned with white and red flowers, adding to her ethereal beauty. The white dress draped perfectly around her body, flowing with her every step to the rhythm of the Indian classical music. She twirled, and twirled, and twirled, until the music came to a halt and she gracefully fell to her knees, concluding the majestic performance.

My eyes were fixed on her form in the middle of the stage, captivated by her presence. The entire auditorium erupted in loud applause, but in that moment, among all these people, her eyes met mine for the first time. Those glass-grey eyes seemed to melt into my black orbs. Those eyes that once looked only for me now don't even want to spare me a glance.

I remember the time vividly - I was a 22-year-old young man who had just stepped into the world of masters at IIM Delhi. Up until then, my life had revolved around business and management concepts, but that year, I encountered the toughest concept of all: understanding her. Falling deeply in love with her. I, who only had an abstract idea of love growing up, experienced it for the first time through her.

She was like a fresh rose from the garden, beautiful and delicate like the morning dew. Her name, Aradhaya Singh Rajvansh, my Dhaya, an integrated course second-year student. Her presence was a revelation, turning my structured world upside down. That boy who thought he knew everything about success and ambition found himself learning a new language - the language of love, with her as the most enchanting and challenging chapter.

After seven years of seeing her only through photos and videos on my screen, I finally saw her in real life. She was as captivating as ever, with the same form that made my heart skip a beat. Those same lustrous eyes seemed to invite me to lose myself in them, to find my world within their depths. Her hair had grown even longer, cascading like dense black clouds. Seeing her for the first time after all this time made me want to fix my eyes on her and never look away. Nothing else mattered except her.

But then I felt the distaste in her tone and saw the hatred in her eyes. It pierced me deeply, and I found myself hating myself rather than being able to handle her hating me. That reaction from her, that palpable disdain, made me realize just how much I had lost and how deeply I had wounded the person I loved. It was a harsh reminder that, despite the years and the distance, the consequences of my actions were still very real, and her pain was still very present.

I wish I could just turn back time and make her mine, but I can't be any less grateful that I got time, a chance to try again and gain her forgiveness. This one time, a chance at living my life once again because without her I might be alive but somewhere I forgot living.

"RUDRA!" I heard Rishi as he shook my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Where are you lost? The waiter is asking if you need more chapatis." His face was a mix of confusion and irritation. I gestured a no to the waiter and chugged a glass of water.

"I need to tell you something," I said, sensing Rishi's curiosity. We were seated at a round table for dinner, and I had been pushing my food around, waiting for a glimpse of her. I overheard her mother talking with Aridhaan, complaining about her tardiness. A habit my love hadn't shed-being late and clumsy.

"You've been eating from that plate for half an hour now. Are you eating the rice grain by grain?" Rishi snickered beside me, making me sulk.

"Dhaya is here." He choked on his lemonade, giving me a flabbergasted look.