The Bracelet

The Bracelet 

-Pratyush Parashar Das

August 28^th, 2020, 07.55 am.

It was a calm and clear morning in the month of August when I woke up, stretching as I did, unable to wonder why my brain kept telling me that it was a day of significance (whether positive or negative, it could not recall) today.

I lay in bed for about five minutes trying to recollect what it was, until I gave it up, and entered my washroom to prepare myself for a long day ahead.

As I emerged from the shower and dried my hair, the hairdryer gustily blowing my hair astray, my eyes fell on a bracelet, lying unattended on the corner of my dressing table.

My breath grew ragged, my hands become clammy and I almost singed my hair, till I switched off the hairdryer.

It had been more than two years, and yet, I could not find the willpower within me to dispose of the bracelet, after all, it was the last thing she gave me before our paths separated forever, in a way I could not have foreseen.

As I checked the calendar rather shakily, I found that it was the 28^th of August, almost two years to the day she left my life forever.

 

August 28^th, 2018. 08.00 pm.

As my senses returned to me, I felt rather groggy, and feeling something wet on my head, daubed my index finger, and squinted at it. I almost screamed for it was my own blood, caked on my head.

I looked to my left, where Rashi lay, silent and unmoving, blood freely flowing down her head, and nose, as though already dead. I shakily got out of the car, deflated the airbags, and made her sit up in a comfortable position while calling and screaming for help. 

Although finding a car or a passer-by in the wooded regions was almost a rarity, luckily, a car was passing by and the kindly woman agreed to take us to the hospital.

After they wheeled Rashi into the Operating Theatre, I held my head in my hands, and wept at the series of events, wondering if I would ever see her again.

August 27^th, 2018, 09.00 am.

“Hello? Good morning aunty, is Rashi there?” “Yes beta, she is just getting ready. How are you? How are all of your parents?”. “They are doing well, aunty thank you. I hope all of you have begun to prepare for our wedding”. “(Laughing, she said), of course, beta. Also, beta, she’s leaving the house. Take care beta, okay? Love you!”.

[Yes, all of you must be wondering why I said ‘our wedding’. Well, the reason is ever since the Government denounced and removed Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, my parents (as well as hers) had final begun to accept our romantic and otherwise orientation, though, they had blessed our union about just a year ago.]

We had decided to go away for a day to a nearby hill station known for its beauty and quiet.

It was to be one of our last few trips prior to our marriage, and we were determined to make the most of it. Our room overlooked a valley rich with long lines of tea plants, which was quite a soothing and beautiful sight after the hustle and bustle of the city.

We spent quite a pleasant time there, with things progressing smoothly, until the evening, when the first seeds of discord were sewn between us.

It was a rather small issue, which both of us managed to complicate with our egos, that is, namely, the issue of not observing all the customary rituals and traditions associated with marriage, because I wanted a wedding to espouse our uniqueness, instead of merely replicating others’ weddings.

The fight turned rather ugly, until dinner time bought us a mild reprieve.

Noticing our expressions, the waiter decided to present us with an elegant chocolate truffle mousse with quite a few eclairs as dessert. This cheered both of us up, and we went up to our room amicably, talking things over as we did.

As well fell asleep in each other’s arms, little did I know that it would be the last time we would be together.

August 28^th, 2018, 12.00 pm

We had begun our journey back, and we were making good progress. We stopped for lunch at a roadside dhaba and by 5 pm, we were reaching the outskirts of the hill-station, for we didn’t believe in rushing through a journey; had we believed that, we would have reached the outskirts by 3 pm.

At 6 pm, we stopped for tea, when Rashi mentioned that her mother wanted a traditional wedding because despite the rather open acceptance of our parents, some of her relatives were still not comfortable with the idea of us being together, and so, they wanted a traditional wedding to have at least some semblance of normality or ‘tradition’ honored.

August 28^th, 2018, 07.45 pm (the time of the accident)

Although I had tried to keep my cool after hearing that comment, I could not do so anymore, which thus started our argument again, leading to Rashi driving rather dangerously from then on. I tried to reign my temper to the best of my abilities and told her we could sort it out like adults, instead of sulking like children, when the car suddenly skidded and went off the road, hit a tree, with our heads banging on the dashboard on impact.

August 28^th, 2018,09.30 pm. (at the hospital)

The doctor looked rather haggard and worn-out as he emerged from the Operation Theatre. He took off his glasses and looked around until he saw me. Rashi’s parents, as well as mine, had arrived by then and were anxiously awaiting news of their daughter. The doctor took Rashi’s mother aside and told her that, though her daughter had survived and would live until she was meant to, she would not retain the same faculties of thought anymore, meaning that she had suffered damage to her cerebrum, which led her to develop a child-like sense of intelligence.

As I absorbed this bit of news, I felt as though a part of me had died, leaving behind only a numb, unfeeling burden. Rashi’s parents were distraught upon hearing that their daughter would never be an adult again, though a part of them was glad that at least she had survived. I tried as best as I could to apologize to her parents, but they only waived my apologies away, saying that it was not my fault, but God’s will.

Before they went to visit Rashi, her mother handed me a bracelet which she said was a gift from Rashi, a surprise which she had wanted to give me after returning from our trip.

That was the last time I saw Rashi and her family, for they left India, and settled down somewhere in France, although I knew not where.

I could not control my tears for many days afterward, because that bracelet reminded me every day of what my life had been before the tragedy, and what it was now.

August 28^th, 2020, 09.00 am. (Present day)

I knew that I would not be heading towards my office today. I called my secretary, apologized and told her to cancel all meetings, and took the day off. I dressed in yesterday’s pajamas and made myself a cup of coffee, wondering, not for the last time, why it could not have been me instead of her.