Another day, another story, another melody, another way...
Time and tide waits for none, they say, and how true that is. The sun rises and sets, just like it always has. Life goes on, with or without me. Each new day brings a glimmer of hope, but each night reminds me of all the things I've lost.
Banshigram, this is a place where life feels like a dance. Children laugh and play in the fields, and the smell of mud after rain fills the air. It's beautiful, but beneath that beauty, there's a darkness waiting to swallow those who dare to dream too much.
I used to think dreams could save me. I listened to stories from my grandmother about heroes, gods and goddesses, ghosts and true love stories, especially from my friends, that made my heart flutter. But dreams can be tricky; easier to imagine and harder to achieve.
Entangled by tricky dreams, I gave up my conscience and my life too, I got tied in a wedlock. However, that's when the dreams turned into nightmares.
I was destined to die that night....
The sun had barely set, yet darkness loomed over me. The villagers surrounded me, beating drums, shouting, murmuring and chanting hymns - which sounded more like death to me than well wishes and prayers.
The crackling sound of wood came into my ear, as I shed the final tear. The smoke had already started filling my lungs, blurring my vision. The flames waited to grow bigger, they waited to lick, taste and engulf me. I accepted that the end, my end, was approaching. My journey was bound to end by the holy flames of Sati.
But fate had other plans, or perhaps love came, with a price.
He roared like a volt of thunder, shooting his rifle up in the air, saving me from the jaws of fire. The villagers ran for their lives. Their celebrations turned into disaster as they threw terrible curses at him. He, my saviour that night saw me not just a widow bounded by the tradition of Sati, but as a woman who was still breathing.
He pulled me into a world that I never knew existed - a world filled with books, music and the intoxicating feeling of love. He taught me letters and then words...I finally learned forming sentences because of which today, I am able to share with you all - my tale, my story.
I learned to dance under the sunlight, among vast fields of sunflowers. I laughed without fear, broke out from the bondage of superstitions and meaningless rituals, freed my mind from irrationality and became rational like you, my dear reader.
Yet, beneath the surface of our love laid shadows-his loyalty to a crown that wanted to rule over my people, and my fierce loyalty to a land that had nearly consumed me. I forgot that everything comes with a price. As the tide of rebellion arose, I made choices which drew scars on his destiny, the scars which could not be covered by any star.
The story, which I am about to unfold is not a tale of happiness, though joy did grace me once. Nor is it a tale of sorrow. No, this is a tale of choices-of how love can both save and destroy. Every word I write here bears the weightage of my past.
Come, step with me into the past. Have a look at the story of two souls who were united by love but separated by nation. I promise, I will not tell you where the path leads. But know this: sometimes, the journey is all that matters, even if it leads to ashes.
IMPORTANT :
To maintain historical authenticity, please note that conversations in this novel are depicted in English, but would have actually taken place in:
- Bengali among Indian characters
- English among British characters
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Image Credits:
The images used in this story are not owned by me, and full credits go to their rightful owners. If you are the owner of any image used and wish for it to be credited differently or removed, please contact me.
Author's Note:
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