Despair or Destiny

Prologue

• Departure •

Mumbai. The city of dreams they called it. True to its word, it indeed was a city of dreams, the city that never sleeps. She can clearly see that as she gazed outside her car's rolled-down window. The hues of lights ablaze like splashes of paint on a canvas, the waves of laughter knitting a symphony, the cool breeze twirling with her hair, and the sea. The fluorescent moonlight spread a veil of diamonds on the sea making it shine and illuminate as if waging war against the dark sky embellished by the stars. The rippling and splashing sounds weaved by the sea pervaded her ear above all the noises that engulfed her, or maybe it was she who sought those melodies to soothe what burned inside her.

Amidst the horns, curses, and screeching sounds of tires she had paid heed to the lights, the laughter, and the melodies. She was endeavouring to observe the beauty of what persists outside maybe because that's what she fought to find inside. This wasn't like her, on better days, on days when she was Niyati. She would do the same. Blow horns, curse at others and make irritated faces as the people in the cars around her did. But that was the thing. She wasn't like how she was, she wasn't Niyati for the past few months. The irony is, this was how she wanted to be, patient. But at what cost

She glanced at the rear view mirror, looking at herself. Her hair disheveled, her lips dry, her skin paler than usual, and her eyes. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, though the lighting from outside reflected on them, they lacked the shine as if almost dead. If her mother were to see her like this, she would be horrified, chastising her to take better care of herself.

Taking her eyes off her reflection she stared ahead at the herd of cars parked against each other with minimal distance. Another thing about Mumbai was its traffic. Nuisance, rage-inducing, stressful, and downright mind-numbing. She hated, hated, hated it. But today she didn't.

In fact, she found solace in being caged with hundreds of people on a road. The loud noises attenuated the voices in her head. A sudden flash of memory jlot her back. The rain, the traffic, this place, him and her. The beginning.

Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, she released a shaky breath and closed her eyes. Heaving a sigh, she played her playlist on shuffle leaning back in her driver's seat. Soon the car was filled with a mellow humming accompanied by an infectious melody. She drummed her finger on the steering wheel, timed with the beats of the song. Music always did that to her. It nursed her soul, paced her heart, and cleansed her mind.

Soon her reverie was broken by an intrusive knock on her car window. Reducing the volume of the music she peered out the window, only to be welcomed by a huge smile.

The boy, no more than seven, stood outside her car with a radiant smile, Niyati couldn't help but break in a tender smile herself.

"Didi phool? (Sister, flower?)" He asked, waving a bunch of different flowers in his hand, beamingly at her. Niyati looked at the flowers in his hand and then back to him, slowly shaking her head with a soft smile.

The boy's face dulled a bit, his smile flattered at her rejection. She instantly felt bad but she really didn't need those flowers. Her mind always associated those flowers with a memory she doesn't want to be reminded of now.

"Didi aaj valeintan hai ek tho phool lelo, gulab hi lelo" (Sister, it is Valentine's Day today buy a flower, a rose at least)" He pleaded with hope gleaming in his eyes.

She didn't want them. But what she also didn't want was to dim the hope from the eyes of the only person who brought a smile to her sullen face. Reluctantly she nodded her head with a gentle smile.

If she thought the boy had given her the biggest smile when he approached her then she was wrong. Because now he beamed, smiling triumphantly at her as he hurriedly removed one from the stack of roses, holding it at her.