She was married young to a drunk man who beat her. One day he drank poisonous alcohol and died. The village didn't see her tears, they broke her bangles, took her colours and called her widow.
Her in-laws said she ate their son. Her own bhabhi taunted her daily. Only her mother gave her shelter. Since childhood she wanted to be a doctor so no one dies like her father, but poverty killed that dream too.
Then some university students came for a trip. A mass media boy, Arav, saw her near the river — blank face, colourless saree.
He sat beside her. "Is that your grandson?" he joked. She looked around confused. He giggled, "Oh so you can hear, just can't talk? Should I use sign language?"
Offended, she whispered, "I can talk."
He smiled softly, "You have beautiful voice. You should talk often. My mother can't hear or speak, so I learnt sign language."
For a week, he came every morning with a flower — Forget Me Not — and a small note. _Smile more often._ Slowly, she started waiting for him. He was the first friend who wanted nothing from her.
Before leaving, he gave her his number. "If you ever need an annoying friend to scold."
Days after he left felt empty, so she went to a shop to call him. As soon as he said hello, someone shouted — her mother fainted. She ran, call cut.
Worried, Arav came on his bike. Her mother had died. Her bhabhi threw her out of the gate saying she ate her mother too now. Arav couldn't see it. He held her hand and said, "If they don't value you, come with me to the city. I will get you coaching, hostel. You can return it when you have it."
She touched her mother's feet one last time and left.
In the city she studied day and night. He became a reporter. He still came with Forget Me Not bouquets. She cleared entrance, got scholarship, became Dr. Naira.
He proposed with a pen that said Dr. Naira — the pen she once liked but didn't buy, saying she'll buy it when she gets a job — and a light blue ring, the colour of her eyes.
She said yes.
Married life was a dream. Friends said, "If we got a man like him, we would never let go." She was scared — what if her bad luck eats him too?
One day she found out she was pregnant. She wanted to surprise him. Same day her brother came to hospital to apologize and gave sweets as gift.
That night, Arav opened the box. "Can I eat one till you change? You have sweet teeth like a child," she laughed.
He ate one and collapsed, vomiting blood. Before she could save him, he was gone. Police found poison in the sweets. Her brother thought it's taboo that a widow remarried and lives happily while they suffer.
Today she is a renowned doctor with her son. On her window, there's still a pot of Forget Me Not.
Sometimes she cries alone and whispers to the sky, "See, I am living this life colourful like you wanted. I hope when my soul meets you, you will still be proud of me."
The End.
I hope that everyone have a colourful life and never forget yourself.🤗
If you liked it. Read my other stories.I liked this story so much myself don't know if you.❣️
