Water was dripping from the crack of our roof pipe like a thin thread as I was sitting idly on the balcony watching the monotonous rainfall from the previous night. Samir was in hospital. Without him the house seemed like a crematorium… no sound, no yell, no bustle.
Though I was sitting still my mind was swirling in the whirlpool of emotions, scrolling backward and forward in strenuous contemplation. Father had gone to the nursing home. Mom had finished cooking. After he would return Mom and I would go to Samir. That was the best moment … I had to confess to Mom. But I was searching for words of introduction. I could not concoct any story. She was my mom, my shelter. She would easily catch my lie.
I had not told Dipesh anything yet, but I must tell Mom first as she was already in preparation for my marriage. Yes, only twenty-seven days are left but for twenty-seven days I could not spoil seven lifetimes…not mine and not any other.
I did not know if I loved Prasun or not. I did not know what love was… how to define my self-sabotaging feelings for him. I was confused about my life, my mission…of myself.
I was a damned soul…but I was determined not to plunge into freezing water. I was stubborn to find myself and detangle my coiled emotions. What I wanted, what could give me peace. I needed time for myself…so badly…and so urgently. I could not take my life’s decision in this confusing state of mind.
I did not want to lose Dipesh…but if I could not live with him … I did not want to make his life hell. First, my questions about my life should be answered.
Mom’s call tracked me back from my stupor.
She was there with the red embroidered lehenga in her hand. I looked at her. Her face was a valley of shadow and light, the colour of gloom and glee was working simultaneously there to merge the emotions in a vibrant kaleidoscope. She was in pain for her son but jubilant with the thought of her daughter’s upcoming marriage.
How to confess, how to tell… “Mom, I am not ready to marry Dipesh at this moment, I need time.”
But I was sure I had to tell…now or never.
Hey, I am Munmun, the phoenix fabulist who wants to tell you stories. I love to read stories and I love to weave stories. I feel life is an amalgamation of multiple stories, colourful threads, and threads of pain, pleasure, hope, and hopelessness. We just need to pick those hues and arrange them, knitting them with our own emotions and perception. So let’s celebrate the stories of life.