Solace

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Meehira__writes ❤️ 6000 words.

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It has been nearly a week since Nidhi embarked on her college journey, and the passage of time seemed to stretch endlessly, without the luxury of shared moments. Our encounters were confined to fleeting glimpses during meals, usually at breakfast, even then, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy between us, stifled by the presence of others, or after dinner when we would be returning to our room. Each passing day accentuated the longing to reconnect, to delve into conversations untethered by the constraints of time and space, yearning for those stolen moments of intimacy amidst the chaos of our surroundings.

Once again, we made our way back to our room, earlier than usual, prompted by Maa's announcement of tomorrow's Pooja. The realization dawned that we had yet to partake in this sacred ritual since our wedding, a poignant consequence of my recent work trip to Lonavala. With the weekend on the horizon, Maa deemed it opportune to fulfill this tradition, fostering a sense of anticipation and reverence in our hearts. As again, I would get busy from Monday with a very little time for any other things.

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In the morning, I awoke before Nidhi, a recent trend as she had been sleeping in later than usual in the past few days.

It was still dim outside, but the sky remained clear, devoid of any clouds. However, with ending-July upon us, I knew heavy rain would likely arrive by evening. Despite the early hour, the sun began to assert its presence, painting the sky with hues of blue, orange, lavender, and yellow. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains into the room, casting a gentle glow. A beam of light fell directly onto her face, lending it a golden hue, transforming her into a radiant fairy.

My Fairy.

She lay beside me, her slender arm exposed, her hair neatly braided as had become our routine. A few delicate strands of hair cascaded over her face, tempting my fingers to gently tuck them behind her ears. However, I resisted the urge, opting instead to rise from the bed. Following her routine, I slid the curtains to each side, just as I had seen her doing every morning whenever we would wake up around the same time.

"Good morning," I heard her murmur, followed by the rustling of bedsheets, followed by the sound her bangles were making, which was echoing throughout the room, due to the silence of the morning.

"Good morning," I replied, making my way towards her. She yawned, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

She never fails to enrapture my senses.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked as I neared her.

"Hmm, quite well," she responded, sitting up with the support of the bedpost.

I reached out my hand to help her up, and to my delight, she accepted it, smiling as she smoothed down her hair strands, tucked a few strands behind her ear, which even I would have loved to do and next she rose from the bed.

"Chalo, we need to prepare for the Pooja," she said, walking past me towards the closet.

"I'll get ready first," she announced, opening the closet on my side, presumably for her sarees, which she kept on my side. To my surprise, she pulled out a kurta for me. I looked at her in astonishment.