THE DIWALI THAT WAS

The garlands and wreaths of amber marigold on the threshold gently swayed in the wintry breeze. The heady perfume floated around the house mixed with those of vibrant golden chrysanthemums in ornamental bronze troughs of sparkling water. The ruby red amaryllis in tall crystal vases in every corner added class and sophistication to the decor.

Diwali was around the corner and so was her homecoming. She took slow steps from the driveway to the entrance, her silver anklets reflecting her anxiety in their hesitant tinkling.

Her bangles too sensed her trepidation as she fumbled with her heavy, crimson brocade sari which was elegantly draped, the gossamer veil covering her neat hairdo cascading daintily.

She was met with a bevy of women, some throwing her furtive glances, some welcoming her with smiling faces and twinkling eyes. She sensed Aman right by her side, walking in step with her, taking her right hand reassuringly in his.

Aman's mother stood with the auspicious platter of aarti, vermillion, turmeric, a bowl of rice and petals of roses.

"Welcome home, bahu", she said lovingly as she showered her with the petals and sprinkled grains of rice on the couple.

There were whispers and murmurs from the far corner and a few stray words floated in intentionally, and it took a lot of grit to turn a deaf ear to them

She stood at the threshold, in a dilemma, but her mother in law embraced her and led her in. At the centre of the hall, an intricate rangoli greeted her with her favourite colors and flowers. The diyas around it waiting to be lit by the newly wed bride.

She had tears in eyes as she looked gratefully at her mother in law who gave her a reassuring nod to go ahead.

She was accepted into the household with much warmth, respect and dignity as was worthy of every woman who had lost a husband and deserved a second chance at life.

Aman and his broad minded parents had set an example by dispelling her darkness in the literal sense.

(347 Words excluding the title)

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy :Image by saurabh joshi from Pixabay

Comments

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see. A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird, its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has saile...

A-Z Blogging Challenge Theme Reveal

Hey everyone! April is almost upon us and it reminds me of my childhood summer vacations, visiting my cousins in different cities, playing with them and watching movies late into the nights, brunches, more outdoor skips and hops and when the boiling sun drove us indoors, how the tangy, icy lemonade pitchers awaited us. April is also about April showers, new beginnings and of late —the month of blogging! I'm excited to announce that I'll be participating in the A-Z April Blogger Challenge, starting on April 1st! This challenge is all about pushing myself to create new content, connect with fellow bloggers, and have immense fun while doing it. Throughout the month, I'll be posting daily(except on Sundays) on a variety of topics, ranging from personal reflections to mixed random bags of thoughts especially bordering on memoirs and non fiction. That's something I excel in apart from writing fantasy and the paranormal. 2025 will see my blog Sanguine Allegory bustling with ...

BOKETTO

In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments. The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day. I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children. The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here. The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apartm...

THE WISE OLD OWL

The taxidermied owl was perched on the mantle piece, it's shiny, wise gaze fixated on her. Kim had an unsettling feeling with this sinister showpiece everytime she visited Cunningham Manor. She sat opposite Keith, going over all the details again and asking more questions. The investigation had drained both of them with no solution on end. It had been months. Audrey Cunningham had disappeared without a trace.. “I'm afraid we've done the best we could. We will be archiving this into the Cold Case Files in a couple of days”,sighed Kim. Out of nowhere, a sudden gust of wind knocked the owl off the mantelpiece. It dropped near Kim’s foot with a loud thud. A key neatly hidden key under it's talon was exposed. HELP and MUSIC BOX were etched weakly on it. **** “Mr. Cunningham! I need to see the Music Box right now”, Kim said with an authority as she radioed the team outside. It held a secret compartment in which a handwritten letter by Audrey said that her life was in danger...

Sangeetha Kamath

Search This Blog