Dirge Of Love
A gust of fierce panic hit her suddenly. Would they turn up here also? Were these love birds destined to doom? Just like her and him?
Smoke from the funeral pyre of his letters she had lit herself just a few weeks ago seemed to have clouded her blue eyes even today. Policemen, friendly with her father, had arrested him and beaten him squarely. Both of them were forced to bring all their letters, gifts and photos to the police station. They had watched all their memories being devoured by a ravenous fire. Silently. Helplessly. Words of protest, fury, fear were muffled within their pursed lips. Embers from the charred teddy bears and photo frames reflected the grave of their love their parents had so painstakingly dug.
As they were dragged out of the police station, they had turned back, to look at each other one last time. Droplets of despair hung precariously at the corner of their despondent eyes. A silent scream from their brutalized lips had pierced the ears of the senior policewoman accompanying the girl.
A month later, the girl had received an invitation to the wedding of her daughter. With the man she loved. An inter caste wedding disapproved and condemned by people fanatic about protecting the purity and sanctity of their community. But the loving mother in the stern policewoman couldn't be bothered any more.
The girl rose. Took a few rose petals and showered on the newly wedded couple. She removed the muffler draped around her neck and threw it to the wind. The scars on her soul may not heal till eternity but the constantly melancholic eyes were less desolate today, wounded lips were no longer drooping cynically, gloomily. The dirge of her love had begun to fade out slowly. The behemoth of her traumatic past was yet to go but she was learning to smile again.
Every change demands some sacrifices. She had made hers. So that others in love did not have to.
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