Closure

She opened a blank notebook. The only unmarked one that she owned. The pages had turned yellow over the twenty odd years that it had been in her possession. Even the once blazing golden threads on the leather cover had blackened considerably. She had bought it on a whim even though it had cost a bomb.

She traveled back in time. Going through the rows of shops at the Tibetan market on a trip to Pondicherry, the youngster had stopped abruptly at a small shop selling various curios. Her Dad had been holding her hand and the sudden ceasing of movement caught his attention. He looked at his little girl casting a wistful look at the various notebooks, diaries and pens displayed on the counter.

"Want one of these ?", he smiled at her while picking up one of the hand-crafted wooden pens.

"No Daddy. I want this. This one is calling out to me", she replied even as she held up a leather bound volume that had the most intricate pattern woven in golden threads.

He took one good look at the notebook his angel held in her hands and knew that it would turn out to be an expensive bargain. Though a part of him wanted to dissuade her, another one watched proudly as her slim fingers alternately caressed and gripped the fascinating article. "She loves it. She must have it", an voice whispered into his ears.

"What will you do with it ?", he inquired playfully.

A beautiful smile lit up the youngster's face making her seem even more angelic in the eyes of her devoted father. His question was the sign that she would get what she wanted. Her hero would never fail her.

"It is very special Daddy. I will use it to pen down the most beautiful story ever ", she replied back in a manner not unlike a spirited sixteen year old.

"Yes you will my dear", he said as he ruffled her unruly hair.

"Knock. Knock". A sharp rap on the door brought her back to the present.

"Another ten minutes please", she almost screamed. Tears stung her eyes. Flipping through the blank pages had brought back memories of heartbreak. All her relationships had been unmitigated disasters till she met him. The smile was back on her face.

Glancing at the mirror, she saw the radiant bride smiling back at her. The makeup was minimal, the jewelry sparse and the hair which just fell short of reaching her shoulders. A hair stylist had cleverly manipulated the short tresses with a few red roses to give it a festive look. But it was the simple red silk saree with an elegant golden border that owned her curves lovingly and made her appear like the bride.

She touched up her face for the final time and pulled back a few stray strands. On another day she would have left them loose but today they had the potential of spoiling the wedding photos. A pink blush suffused her visage as she realized her yearning for the feel of his strong fingers stroking her cheeks as he picked up the stray strands of her hair and lovingly tucked them behind her ears.

"Knock. Knock." Yet another impatient rap on the door. "Final call. Everyone is waiting", yelled her friend.

"Another two minutes please", she yelled back.

Picking up the notebook and her favorite Parker pen, she opened the first page and wrote 'Thank you Daddy'.

Turning it to the very last page, she continued

'The right guy is not the one who can make out the difference between Russian Red and Ruby Woo. But the one who understands why you choose to wear either.'

'Thank you Joy.'

Once she had put it away in a safe place, she hurried to open the door. And there he stood. Just where she had expected to find him. There was no trace of irritation on his face as he came forward to hold her hand.

"I can wait all my life dear. But these people gathered over here just cannot wait any longer to open the champagne", he cooed into her ears as they walked towards the car.


‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’