Dhaani churiyan......Part 1.



 Nalini opened the box delivered to her by courier. There was no sender's name, which made her sceptical. Even so, she opened, to check. There were light green coloured bangles wrapped neatly, along with a folded letter. She took the bangles out and the jingling sound filled up the silent room. The courier no longer needed the sender's name. A tear dropped from the corner of her eye. She rubbed the tear and wiped her hand with the pallu of her saari. She kept the bangles aside and unravelled the letter with quivery hands. 

"My dear Nalini", it read. Nalini closed the letter and held it close to her bosom. The thumping sound of her heartbeats was audible, loud enough. She calmed her mind and again opened the letter.

"My dear Nalini,

The silver in your hair must be making your face shine even brightly. Enhancing your glow and adding experience to your maturity."

Nalini moved the strand of her silver hair falling on her forehead and tucked it back in the hairbun. She peeped into the mirror. The reflection appeared aged, with few wrinkles around the eyes and smile lines darker. "Glow on my face? Is there any?", she thought, looking at the reflection.

She continued reading, "I know by the time you receive this letter, you must've forgetten my face. Also, I am not the same anymore. I mean, I don't look the same anymore. I no longer flaunt the Dharmendra hairdo. The receding hairline, wrinkles, crowlegs, grey hair, and bent knees, have altered me, physically. You must've guessed from the hand writting, that now, my hands are shaking a bit too. Hope you get what I am penning down."

"I have sent 'dhaani churiyan' that you loved to wear. The tinkling sound it made when you dangled them, wearing on your wrists, it's like a vivid picture in the album of my memories. 'Phir chhidi raat, baat phoolon ki....raat hai ya, baraat phoolon ki', when Supriya Pathak asked Farooq Shaikh to get her 'dhaani' bangles in the song, you had elbowed me in the movie theatre. "Look she loves dhaani bangles too, just like me", you had said, with twinkle in your eyes. Whenever I passed by the flower stall, the fragrance of jasmine flowers would remind me how you insisted that I get one gajra every week for you. And in case I would forget, you would sulk and sit in a corner not wanting to talk to me for hours. Your cheeks would turn red, like apples. And then, when I placed a peck on your red cheeks, you would shyly cover your face."

Nalini's face now glew up. She smiled and gently ran her hand over the bangles. She touched her hairbun. She couldn't recall the last time she had put a 'gajra' around. The fragrance of jasmine flowers, to her, seemed faded suddenly. She inhaled deeply and wiped her nose with the pallu.

There was a knock on her door and she snapped out of the reverie.


*CLICK HERE FOR PART(2)*


AUTHOR'S NOTE : "Love makes your soul crawl out from it's hiding place" ~ Zora Neale Hurston.

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