The clattering noise of the bullock's hooves broke the serene silence of the morning as it headed towards, Panchavati. It was their hometown, they very place where they got tangled into this melancholic yet mystic bond of friendship.
Both of them were sitting on the cart, stealing glances at each other, one searching for answers to her unasked questions while the other contemplating how he would answer those questions. A thick silence hang in the air, as none of their lips parted even once. Their uneven breathing was the only proof that there were actual people sitting inside the cart.
"Shilpi." He muttered in a hoarse, low almost inaudible voice. But Shilpi was quick to catch on as she faced him, responding to the call. Her face was still devoid of any emotion, as motionless and dull as yesterday.
"I'm sorry." Was all that could slip from his mouth before he pressed his lips in a thin tight line, repentance and sorrow evident on his pale visage. He knew this wasn't enough. The pain he has caused this woman sitting right in front of him cannot be measured. Right now, the what caused him even more affliction was her non chalant nodding to what he said.
Soon enough, the cart came to their stop. The inskirts of the Panchavati village was indeed a sight to the eye. The small huts scattered all around, as the sparkly water of the Pancham River flows ever so tranquil, along the big rice fields where the crops have just been harvested. The woods at a distance flashed their lush green leaves and wild flowers which looked even more vibrant in the morning sun. It was spring season, a time which often marks the beginning of a new and fresh start. It makes every part of the nature look beautiful and admirable but alas, there were two young hearts which were aching in agony admist all this beauty and decoration.
Dhrubo and Shilpi walked slowly towards her paternal house. Although Dhrubo insisted Shilpi to stay at his house, but she only shook her head in response indicating her want to go to her own house.
Finally, they stopped in front of a comparatively smaller hut which was decorated in chalky soil with intricate patterns. The side walls were bedded with
cow dung cakes. Shilpi's eyes glistened as she stood in front this house after three agonizing years.
It was Dhrubo who knocked the door as Shilpi seemed to be still taking in the rush of memories hitting her at that moment.
The small wooden door slowly opened revealing an unfamiliar young woman. Her partition was filled with a fair amount of sindoor signifying that she might be married.
"Who are you?" The younger woman asked, curiously. Just then an older woman arrived from inside the house, supposedly intrigued by the sudden arrival of uninvited guests early in the morning. To say she was astonished would do not justice to her reaction as her movements froze and lips trembled. In front was standing her older daughter, her forehead smeared in sindoor, her long hair dishevelled, face filled with burn wounds and her body wrapped in an oddly white colored red bodored saree.
It was her very own first child, who had once sacrificed both her youth and life just to repay her father's debt. It was the most precious piece of her heart which she lost three years ago. It was the person through which she saw her ownself. It was indeed her daughter Shilpi. Tears brimmed her eyes as he enwrapped her daughter in a warm embrace. But she couldn't feel her. It felt as if she was touching a statue, a sheer rock.
"Shilpi maa, is that really you?" Her mother cried, holding onto her arms. All she could see was a face drained of all colors and emotions. It looked as if she never had emotions.
"What happened to you, my child?" She asked gently cupping her face, tears nowhere nearing stopping. Her cries loudened as she delicately ran her fingers through the burns.
"She was going to be Sati." A thick manly voice intruded, as Dhrubojyoti finally stood on the porch.
"What?" The older woman gasped in horror as the unfamiliar younger woman's eyes widened.
"Yes. Her husband had passed away earlier yesterday due to over consumption of liquor resulting the failure of some of his internal organs, therefore she was going to be Sati. I had seen her just a few moments before she was thrown into the fire and somehow managed to rescue her. But her burns are pretty major." Dhrubo explained.
Her mother's eyes was wet and red in dismay and rage, on no one but herself for failing her daughter, as she stood in front of her, looking ever so lifeless. But grateful to the man who had gifted their daughter a second life and maybe waved way for a new beginning.
Dhrubo really tried his best to insist that it's better he leaves sooner, the elder woman was nowhere near lending an ear to his pleas as he was welcomed inside their warm cozy hut.
"You seem exhausted child, please take some rest. I'll prepare you some food. Make yourself at home." Shilpi's mother's suggested, shooting Dhrubo a warm smile. Dhrubojyoti reciprocated the smile as he acknowledged the words just said to him by nodding his head timidly.
While on the other hand, Shilpi was taken to her room by her mother. The tears hadn't yet stopped, as she made her daughter sit on the wooden bunker.
"I'll give you bath ok? You've already gone through a lot, dear. Please let your ill fated cruel mother take care of you a little bit." Her voice barely above a whisper, as it cracked it between her tears.
The words stang Shilpi like an arrow, as seeing her mother in pain was the last thing she wanted. Without speaking a word, Shilpi embraced her mother. Her mother was stunned for a moment but relieved that her daughter has started getting back into her senses, as she embraced her back.
Wrapping Shilpi in a comfortable white saree, Urmi brought her daughter to the small dining room. Shilpi looked much more clean and refreshed, as her forehead didn't have a single bit of sindoor which was initially smeared all over it, her waist long hair braided loosely and her body devoid of any jewels. She was a widow now.
Dhrubojyoti's POV :
She sat right in front of me, her face as pale as a paper, her once plump pink lips were now pressed in a thin line without the usual tinge of her natural hue. Her eyes were bloodshot and spoke volumes while staring into the void. The emotions haven't yet come back to her countenance.
I could only steal glances at her, whole her mother fed her. I could feel my heart heavy with guilt, repentance and dismay. I could never imagine witnessing Shilpi in such a condition. I'm the only one to be blamed for all her misery. Had I not been an immature little teenager who was too scared to accept his feelings, I could've kept Shilpi in a better place.
It torments me everytime thinking about how I could've loved her, could've adored her, could've whispered her sweet nothings whenever she would feel upset, to caress her long smooth hair whenever she would put it down and to be by her side at every moment of life.
Each time, I see this bestfriend of mine, the woman of my dreams, I feel like I'm drowning in the ocean of her love. But maybe, I'm just too late.
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Butterflies
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