Rain rain go away…

"Remember when we first met? You were so nervous, your words stumbling over each other." Sakhi whispered to herself, a smile playing on her lips as she pictured Saajan's shy smile while he tried to hide his excitement. 

She let out a sigh and settled on the bay window, her gaze fixed on the rain drenching the streets. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she reminisced about the times she had spent with Saajan. She remembered their first meeting, a chance encounter in a hill station...

The crisp mountain air filled his lungs as he set foot on the little-explored town nestled in the mountains, a sense of adventure coursing through his veins.

Saajan had been yearning for tranquillity away from the daily hustles and routines. When he decided to take a holiday to the quaint hill station, he was brimming with anticipation. He had been planning this trip for months.

He spent the days exploring the town, enjoying local cuisines and culture. They say happy times fly faster. That morning, the day of his departure, as he wandered through the raw and dewy paths, lost in the beauty of the surroundings, his eyes were drawn to a woman’s chuckles echoing through the tall trees lining the semi-cobbled pathways. It was Sakhi. 

Saajan felt an immediate connection, his heart pounding with a familiar thrill. He struck up a conversation, his words mumbling, as he tried to hide his jitters.

A happenstance, a stolen glance, and Saajan was smitten. He found himself drawn to Sakhi’s infectious laughter and enthusiasm. Their meeting was serendipitous, a meeting that would forever change their lives. 

Their quick bonding was undeniable, a spark that ignited into a flame. When it was time to leave, they promised to stay in touch.

Saajan, with his charming nature and calm attitude, had swept Sakhi off her feet. Captivated by his artistic talent, she desired his soulful togetherness.  To him, Sakhi, with her infectious laughter and vibrant heart, seemed the perfect match for his quiet spirit.

With time, their love deepened, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.The courtship became a whirlwind of romantic gestures, occasional visits and shared dreams;  A picture-perfect long-distance love. 

"We wrote letters, our words painting vivid pictures of our shared experiences, dreams, longings and desires for each other" Sakhi continued to herself. "You were so talented, your art capturing the essence of our love."

Saajan's love for Sakhi was evident in his paintings, his creations often featuring her as the muse just like he was the epicentre to her artistry with words.   

They faced challenges together, supporting each other through thick and thin. Inseparable, their love a beacon that lit up their world. Saajan's career took off, and Sakhi celebrated his successes, stood by him and believed in him unconditionally. Their hearts were intertwined, their souls connected by an invisible thread. But a silent enemy, ego,  slowly crept into their paradise. It began subtly, a hint of pride here, a touch of jealousy there. 

She recalled with a sigh,  those small disagreements, petty arguments over trivial matters. She, once so gentle, found herself becoming increasingly authoritative, her voice laced with a hint of possessiveness. Saajan had, in turn, began to withdraw, his once open-heart hardening with resentment. Slowly, one evening after another, heated arguments erupted even without provocations. She, accusing him of neglecting her, of not valuing her as much as he used to. He, in return, feeling misunderstood and hurt, lashing out, his words cutting deep.

"You've changed, Sakhi," he said, his voice trembling. "You're no longer the woman I fell in love with." Sakhi, stung by his accusation, retorted, "And you've become the busiest, uncaring man." 

The words hung heavy in the air, their bitterness escalating each passing day. As time wore on, they realized that the love they once cherished had been eroded by the growing egos. 

Days turned into weeks, and the distance between them widened. They tried to repair their relationship, but their efforts were futile. The once-harmonious melody of their love had been replaced by a discordant din of hurt, resentment and total silence. 

Seasons had changed and spring was long gone, paving the way to thunderstorms. That rainy evening, as the raindrops mimicked prisms on the flowers by the window, she thought about the love shared, the dreams dreamt together, welling up tears in her eyes. 

Reflexively, she picked up her phone and dialled Saajan's number. When he answered, his voice was barely a whisper. 

"I'm sorry ” she began, her voice trembling, “I was wrong. I let my anger get the better of me"

The silence that followed, was deafening. Finally, he spoke 

"It's too late, Sakhi. The damage is done. The love is gone." 

She heard him clear as he hung up the call.

A wave of despair and regret washed over her. She felt cheated, her love for him betrayed by his unfounded accusations and presumptions.

The sound of the doorbell broke her trance. She wiped the trickles on her cheeks as she walked out.  The rain had stopped after the storm, the street had dried up. The gate was open with no one in sight. Her heart sank when she found her favourite magazine lying half-wet on the floor. As she picked it, her mind relished the words “The Show Must Go On”, printed boldly on its back cover. The sky was clear again.