Bye-Bye Nafisa Shah.
Welcome Nafisa Shah Khan to this world.
She winked looking at herself in the mirror and uttering out these words. Trying to get ready for the transformation her life was going to experience. Adjusting her black-colored dupatta laced with embroidery over her shoulder, she was practicing the way to address the new people who were soon going to be a part of her life. Conscious as she was, her hands were not following her instinct. Their movement was, somehow, not under her control. They were trembling, maybe because soon they were going to be colored. Soon one of her fingers was going to be adorned with the most beautiful circular object. Every little movement in her hands was not going to be completed without the accompany of the tinkling sound of colorful and lavishing bangles covering her arms. Yes, she was getting engaged. She was going to be no longer a resident of 216/45, Mary Lane, Kolkata. The address which she had mentioned everywhere till now. The place where she had spent her childhood playing with dolls and her teen age talking in corners of the house to her friends. All her moments were embedded in each and every thing of that house. The aura of the house was fragrant with old good times. The walls still retained the graffiti that she had made along with her younger brother. Smalls huts in the mountains on the bank side of a river brimmed with clean blue-colored water along with rainbow colored flowers distributed evenly surrounding the huts was the sight she had scribbled over the wall at the age of 7-8 at the best of her imagination acuity. The bed still had the marks which she had made with her fingers supporting long nails to check the extent of sharpness of her nails. The floor still continued to reveal that spot where she spilled her nail paint inadvertently while having a war with her elder sister over it. It was like every single object was voicing its love by withholding all these things of past and which had probably a little or no place in her future. Suddenly, she turned her face away from the mirror and started gazing at her room as if trying to get the whole room pictured in her mind. Her room was not so big. Nor did it contain any luxurious things. But it was big enough so as to hold a bunch of all her old memories and her memories were her luxuries, her priceless possessions. Because memories hold the capacity to make you relive through the moment, once again. They make you cry in happiness, they make you giggle, they make you guffaw, and they make your present worth living. She lingered over the room pondering over the 'already happened' and envisaging 'going to be happened' things. She was experiencing a feeling never felt before, a kind of fear never encountered with, a ticklish joy never enjoyed before. She got nostalgic. She got sensitive. She got tears in her eyes for she was happy. Happy at having got him, her gentle man. She was holding a yellow colored square piece of paper which was beautifully inscribed with words ~
" A boy falls for display but a man falls for words. And you have made me a gentleman. (I am not being narcissistic here.) To be true - You. Are. Beautiful. Your words are more. Your thoughts are the most. I imagine spending my hours sitting beside you, admiring you for holding such a pure soul within you. I can do that for hours. Really, I can, only if you would allow. I love to have over inflated views for you. Will you give me the pleasure of enjoying the company of your eternal beauty for my entire life ? Will you ? :')
Yours.
- - - - - - -
P.S. ~ I am worth a YES. "
And she blushed reading this note for the 106th time....