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Chhavi's eyes darted around in desperation, scanning the sea of faces painted in hues. Who had pulled her out so abruptly? She massaged her arm which was still throbbing from the earlier tug.
She took a deep breath as she tried to steady herself.
Whoever it was had vanished, leaving her alone with only the mysterious note and the rose.
That unknown I suppose...
She glanced down at the crisp and the blue rose having delicate petals which were now decorated with sprinkles of gulaal.
Examining the rose for a moment, her brow furrowed as a wave of anger surged through her. Without a second thought, she tossed the flower aside, watching as it landed in the dust as people stepped on it, ruining it unknowingly.
She read the address scribbled on the note knitting her eyebrows together in confusion. Raising her head, her eyes scanned the buildings, searching for the apartment mentioned on the paper. The second she spotted it, without wasting another moment, she stomped toward the entrance. anger simmered just beneath her skin.
She briskly climbed up the stairs which houses her husband's mistress as per the unknown source. Her body trembled violently, threatening to explode at any moment. The constant, throbbing headache pulsed in sync with her growing anger, making her head spin in aggravation.
As soon as she reached the door of the flat, she didn't pause to breathe or prepare herself yet in that fraction of second she felt millions of thoughts flood her mind.
Will her denial finally turn into acceptance? Will she be able to take it? Finally, she was an inch away from the truth which she was kept hidden from for God knows how many year.
Her anger surged, overriding any hesitation. With trembling hands, she slammed the door open which thudded against the wall with a loud bang echoing through the hallway.
The noise startled the inhabitants standing in the corridor but she didn't care. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as her eyes scanned the room, searching for the woman her husband had chosen over her.
But all she saw was her husband, casually seated, engaged in conversation with a middle-aged man over a cup of tea.
The sight caught her off guard. This wasn't what she had expected.
Her husband glanced up, his eyes widening in surprise at her sudden and dramatic entrance but he didn't rise. He just voiced in shock.
"Chhavi, sweetheart, what're you doing here?"
The middle-aged man, clearly perplexed, turned his gaze toward her, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in her mind.
For a moment, everything around her froze. What was happening? Where was the woman? Had she been wrong all along?
"Where is she?"
She demanded, her eyes burning into him.
She chose not to give up.
Her husband blinked, taken aback by the venom in her tone. He leaned back casually in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Who, sweetheart?"
He asked with feigned innocence.
Chhavi's fists clenched at her sides as his smooth confident voice reached her eardrums like oil over water.
"The woman," she hissed, stepping closer, her voice trembling with both hurt and fury. "The one you're hiding. Where is she?"
"Sweetheart, this is Mr. Singh and I'm here to discuss a project with him. Please, don't create a scene, hmm?"
She knew he was playing games but she wasn't about to fall for it. Not this time. Her patience had run dry.
Without a second thought, she stormed past her husband, ignoring the puzzled expression of the middle-aged man sitting across from him. Her rage propelled her forward as she marched from room to room on her bare feet which slapped against the cold floor.
Her eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. She threw open doors with a force that rattled the hinges, yanking open closets, checking behind curtains, even tearing back the bedcovers, convinced she would find her husband's secret hidden somewhere in the apartment.
But room after room, there was nothing.
No woman.
No mistress.
Just an empty space laughing at her defeated condition.
The men watched in silence as she ransacked the entire apartment. At last, when she had searched every possible corner and found no trace of a feminine presence, her heart sank.
Without a word, without sparing even a glance in her husband's direction- who was now staring at her intently, as if questioning her madness, she walked out. The door clicked shut behind her.
She was tired of the riddle that seemed to get tougher with every passing hour, twisting her mind into knots. Exhaustion weighed her down, both physically and emotionally.
She sluggishly climbed down the stairs, one step at a time, strands of hair masking her face as the wind from the open balcony whipped around her. The loose end of her saree swept the floor. The dried tears leaving a crusty residue on her face which made her skin tighten. Her reddened eyes stared blankly ahead, focusing on a blurred point that seemed to drift further away from her grasp.
Inside, she was a whirlwind of turmoil.
The people rushing up and down the stairs, reveling, were a blur to her. Laughter filled the air as they urged each other to smear colors across their faces, hooting and cheering onto each other but their exuberance couldn't pierce through her haze of despair.
Just as the air was clouded in colourful dusts, her mind was clouded with never ending yet empty thoughts. She felt a feminine touch slipping something into her palm. Before she could break out of her haze, the figure vanished into thin air and once gain, she was standing clueless with a blue rose in her hand.
UNKNOWN'S POV
How cruel can one-sided love be, hmm? It's like infinity. No matter what you multiply, add or subtract from infinity, it stays the same.
I tried to escape itātried dating random women- but it was all in vain.
Most of the time, I wouldn't even show up. I'd call it off with some lousy excuse about being out of the country or sick, all just to avoid facing the reality that none of them were her.
I even tried staying away from her, thinking that maybe distance could erase her from my memories. But I was so wrong. She unknowingly engraved her name deep into my heart and no matter what I did, I couldn't wipe it away.
Isn't love beautiful? But only when it's shared. If it just festers inside you, you're doomed. You become a hollow soul, dropped into an endless void, always falling, never grounded.
It doesn't let you live nor does it let you die. It just makes you feel... the worst.
How do you feel when the one you love, the one you respect, doesn't return your feelings and marries some random guy her family chose for her? All your efforts- were they all worthless?
There's a pain that can't quite be described. Words may be an escape for poets to pour their emotions onto paper but for someone like me, it's just an endless silence. A dead soul, breathing in a world filled with dread and hollow emotions.
You're trapped. You can't expect your feelings to be reciprocated, yet you can't release them either because the very person who caused them in the first place took everything away from you.
Men my age are out there dating, having fun, getting married, building families. And what am I doing?
Shadowing the woman who rejected my love, the one who brushed me off so easily with those words that still haunt me.
"You're a child, dear. Don't worry. The feelings will fade, eventually."
As if my love was some fleeting, immature infatuation. As if what I felt wasn't real.
But she was wrong. It didn't fade. Not even close.
It drove me so insane that the more I tried not to think about her, the more her face haunted me. She was everywhere. Staring back at me through mirrors, in the petals of my favorite flowers, in the lyrics of songs that once brought me comfort. Even in the codes I typed, her image flickered between the lines, as if she was mocking me, reminding me of what I couldn't have.
My life? Completely screwed.
I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat without feeling like she was there, lingering in my every thought, turning every moment into a prison.
Until... I made a decision. I shifted to the place where she was living her perfect, happy life with her in-laws, pretending everything was alright. But I knew it wasn't. Not for her. Not for me.
The funny part? Watching her from a distance, seeing the cracks in her life- the faƧade she put on for everyone, even herself.
Why would someone so intelligent, soĀ learned, overlook the cracks in the very foundation of the marriage that was crumbling around her?
Isn't that what love does to you? Turns you into a fool. A clown.
My conscience laughed bitterly at me, mocking the irony of it all.
How could someone like her, who could calculate the most intricate formulas and solve the most complex problems, fail to see the simplest truth?
That the love she had so selflessly devoted herself to was nothing more than an illusion. A lie she clung to, blind to the betrayal simmering right beneath the surface.
And yet, wasn't I the same? Stuck in this loop of unrequited love, unable to break free, no matter how much it destroyed me?
I brushed off the loop of thoughts that often resurfaced in my mind and glanced out of the tinted glass of my car.
There she was, standing in the middle of the crowded street, clutching the sheet of paper I'd handed her, along with the blue rose. Her eyes were fixed on the address scribbled hastily on the note.
Before she could spot me, I disappeared into the sea of people. But I saw her, just like everyday. Those beautiful pair of chestnut eyes, up so closely, made me feel out of the world.
Good lord! How perfectly that blue rose expresses my longing for her!
I watched as she looked around, desperate to catch a glimpse of the one who had given her the note and the flower. Something sinister stirred inside me and I liked it. A smile crept onto my face- I had only just begun.
I'll come in front of you at the right time, mademoiselle.
But that smile faltered when I saw her throw the rose away, discarding it as if it meant nothing. My chest clenched.Ā How could she?
Oh Mademoiselle, I just sowed the seed of doubt for your husband in your heart.
You've no idea what's coming.
Pretty lady, there's so much more for you to endure. Prepare yourself, darling. The blue rose's just the beginning.
But I swear to God, if you'd just give me the word, love, sit back and watch how I ruin your husband and his parents. The Joshi family would crumble before your eyes.
But I also know, you won't like it that way. You're a Diva who loves to work and fight for herself.
But, mademoiselle, leave that marriage and I'll be your muse, your weapon, until every last one of those Joshi bastards is dust.
Even if I've to lay my head in front of you I'll do that without thinking once.
But mademoiselle, what about this heart you ripped apart a decade ago? What'll you do to cure it, hmm?
Will you lay your head in front of me, like I'd do?
āļ½”Ā°ā©ā Ā°ā¦ ā§ ā§ ā Ėā§ā Ā°ā¦
Ahem! So, what're your thoughts on this?