An Untold Story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

"So?"
"I did not tell him, if that is what you want to know."
"I know you are unsettled after meeting him, but it has been five years Disha. Don't you think he has a right to know that you still love him?"
"Riya, he has gone through enough since the time he heard about my marriage.  I do not want to drag him back to the depressing phase he went through. He has suffered enough because of me."
"But.... is he not the reason why you called off the engagement? Is he not the reason you waited patiently waited for him to return back to India so that you would be together? And for heaven's sake, what are you smiling about?"
Disha was smiling at the memory of seeing a flash of gold and it became clear later that the precious piece of metal was on his ring finger.
"Well, that will always remain an untold story", Disha sighed softly, knowing that she must learn to live with the loose ends throughout her life.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: Nikhil Patokar, Participation Count: 02

Celebrations

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Ira was the quintessential trophy wife married to a wealthy person who unfailingly, each day, reminded Ira that if it wasn't for him, she would be languishing in the lower middle class community. Two months into the marriage,Ira had her brush with domestic abuse- she was kicked mercilessly and roughed up for opposing to his 'business meetings' with a certain struggling actress. She had to use make up as a crutch to cover up the bruises and scratches while the dark glasses hid her sore eyes. She continued with this ritual till she landed her in hospital with a broken rib and a host of injuries.

The divorce had been swift and Ira only demanded freedom as alimony.The hissing pressure cooker startled Ira back to reality and she cursed herself for wasting away a considerable chunk of her time in front of the mirror. She ran a hand over her face appreciating the uniform colour except for a few dark spots. She applied a dab of lip gloss and tied her hair up and looked approvingly at her image. She hated make up but had to grudgingly accept it as her saviour during those times.A few years ago, she had dumped the entire make up kit into the trash bin along with the two dark glasses- grim reminders of her abusive past. Dumping them felt like sweet victory and she felt thrilled to see the bruises fade each passing day, the aches disappearing enabling her to move without grimacing.

She entered the kitchen and the air flooded with the aroma of biryani on opening the cooker. Ira scooped out a large portion and enjoyed the treat in thoughtful silence sitting at the balcony offering a panoramic view of the city. This day, three years ago, she was holding onto her marriage, trying to salvage it from certain failure. Three years on, she was thankful to her will power which helped her leave behind her life of abuses, sleepless nights and weepy days. Today was her own personal celebration..... of life.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.