A tale of love where a girl who knew nothing about love learnt it from the very person who she fell in love with but later, fate decides to put more twists and turns in her path. Can she endure them? If she turns back the time, can she heal the reas...
The digital clock in the living room displayed it was already 11:00 pm. It was a long, tiring day. I plopped into the couch and kept laying there with my head burried under the soft pillows.
I took out some leftover food, I cooked earlier, to have my dinner.
After filling up my tummy, I moved towards the bedroom to work for a few hours.
Exhaling heavily, I found that it was almost 2:00 am. I cleaned my table and reached for my bag, so that I could pack it for the next morning.
Putting my hands in the bag, the first thing that came in contact with my fingers were the pictures. I was so worn out, that I almost forgot about them. I quickly took them out.
Scattering the pictures on the table, I stared at them blankly. The smile which I always had back then, when he was with me, is barely there on my face now.
I took up the picture, I clicked on my birthday, the last birthday of mine that I spent with him, to observe it more closely. Almost 2 years have passed, I have no picture of ours from that day. He clicked every picture that day on his phone, and this one on his instant camera. Normally, whenever we used to visit Honeybloom, we clicked numerous pictures. Abhi clicked them on his phone, and later sent them to me. And one was clicked on his instant camera, to stick ot to the picture board of the cafe. That day was no exception. After returning home that day, I asked him to send the pictures. But he never sent. He knew that he would leave and he did it intentionally that day, so that I would be left with nothing.
I'm just living with the memories of that special day.
I sighed as I got up and pulled out the drawer in my dressing table, taking out the vintage box. It was a medium sized box, where I stored and locked up all the precious jewellery collections of mine, gifted by him. The numerous silver jhumkas, neckpieces, chokers, bangles, and especially anklets--I had a wide collection of them. Some were heavily decorated, while some were light, but every jewellery radiated his affection for me.
I am a fan of silver jewelleries, so he gifted me with such beautiful pieces having incredibly gorgeous intricate designs. There was one shop, which had the best collection of silver jewelleries, and it was run by a woman of Tibetan origin. Though he never took me there, he used to bring them to me them as soon as he came to know about the shop from me.
I took up the heaviest anklet, he gifted me on my birthday, the one he last spent with me.
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As my eyes traced its breathtaking designs, my mind went down the memory lane.
I gulped hard and took heavy breaths to calm down my racing heart. A red tint spread across my cheeks and I bit my lips, as I recalled how he beautifully he made me wear those, how he kissed my ankle, acknowledging our merged beauty without being verbal, and how romantically he told me that he would not remove the anklets, for our love-making session.
