Part I
Auburn, carmine, gamboge, russet… the colours of fall foliage painted Ashwin’s and Aradhya’s hearts with blooms of love and they couldn’t wait to unite in the sacred bond of matrimony.
The bench in the park was their regular meeting spot for the past six months. It beheld myriad conversations of love, life and their impending wedding.
Finally, the day arrived, draped in gossamer dreams and they tied the knot in a spectacular ceremony. It was a dream come true for Aradhya, who had been eagerly awaiting her big day. She had always dreamt of forever love, that she found in him.
Her love for Ashwin was paramount. She left no stone unturned to keep him content. She was willing to do anything and everything for him.
Things seemed rosy for the first few months, after which, Ashwin started revealing his true colours. His toxic behaviour, earlier alien to Aradhya, tormented her to the extent of impacting her mental health. His losing temper on things as petty as the breakfast being served a few minutes late, left her aggrieved. This wasn’t the Ashwin she had loved.
She reminisced about how fond she was of him that she went against her family’s wish to marry him. Her parents warned he wasn’t the right match for her but love, as they say, is blind, and she turned a deaf ear to them. Now, she knew what they meant. They could see what she couldn’t, but it was too late to make things right.
She trusted him blindly with her finances too, and one fine morning, he vanished. His wardrobe empty, his phone switched off. She realized even her credit cards and jewellery were missing. He left a small note on the kitchen counter that read, ‘Thanks for your blind faith in me, idiot’.
Aradhya was devastated. She felt betrayed, lost, used, all at once.
Part II
Auburn, carmine, gamboge, russet… the colours of fall foliage made Aradhya ponder over her past.
“Why do people change colours like the autumn leaves? Why do they make promises if they can’t keep?” A series of ‘Whys’ perturbed her, while she had a date with solitariness at the park.
The first time she came across the word ‘solitary’ was in school, where ‘The Solitary Reaper’ by William Wordsworth, was part of her syllabus. Now, she tasted it. In fact, Ashwin made her taste it.
Soaked in those thoughts, as she walked further, she reached the bench, a silent witness to all the promises Ashwin had made.
If things could speak, the bench would have shared a testimony of all his lies, thought she.
‘Ash’ was what she used to call him, and he did ensure all her dreams of a blissful life turned to ashes.
