The Taste Of Love

Guys listen I am not a storyteller actually I am here to readout a real incident which brought shivers through my spine. Let me narrate the incident.

The story starts in a village named mandola, the hero of our story lived in that village and was a painter. His name was Ambaresh, he was a 38 years old man who was still waiting for someone very patiently. Whenever it rained heavily Ambaresh sat in his balcony to watch the rain heavily pouring down to the green fields. He took a handful of rainwater and tasted it with his tongue. This taste wasn't new for Ambaresh he could sill recognise the taste. Raindrops tasted like the tears of Pritilata to him. He loved Pritilata a lot and still waited for her  to return in his life. His life was like a empty book which had lost before writing a single line within it. Would a new page open up ? I know guys u r eagerly waiting for ther answer but I believe looking backward is important to move forward. Here starts the flashback .........................Ambaresh and Pritilata lived in the same village they were deeply in love with each other. One day during midnight, they planed to meet in the nearby forest. Pritilata went their she saw Ambaresh waiting for him,quitelying stood before him resting her head on his chest. She could clearly feel his heart beating fast. She looked up deep into his eyes.....................there was something he wanted to tell her, she lifted her face a bit and asked him "what happened?" He whispered in her ears " tell me u are  mine." She softly nodded  her head and said " Yes only yours." Then after a minute or two of silence Ambaresh took out a packet from his pocket and filled Pritilata 's head with the holy red dust known as Sindur.  The night, the stars, the moon, the sound of the cricket and the willow trees were the only things which knew about the holy marriage.  Ambaresh now just wants to get back Pritilata hug her tight and tell her " You are always mine ...................and I will never let u go again." He still remembers the night when they cuddled together. Their was no sign of sleep in their eyes, that night they came closer to each other they threw away the curtain of shame between them. They made love they opened up everything in front of each other then wrapping a blanket in their body together they opened the window to see the moon .........................moonlight made the night more beautiful. ..............O  what magical moments those were. But then came the storm which changed their lives soooo much, which played with the heart of these two lovers. The storm came when Ambaresh went out of his village for two days due to some work. Pritilata was a orphan she grew up in the house of her uncle and aunt. Her aunt was always being rude to her but she didn't understand that her aunt would sell her. Yes she was sold to a new master. She was called a bitch now. Now Pritilata is a prostitute. Ambaresh tried to find her but he couldn't.  Priti also tried to run away  but she was unsuccessful. Priti's  only way to peep into Ambaresh 's heart was his paintings.  Ambaresh is a professional  painter now and Pritilata sees those every paintings which Ambaresh draws and the only thing she understands is all colours have faded away from the heart of Ambaresh.  Because his paintings r no more colourful  as before they reach now pale and greyish.

Finally  after this long 22 yrs of waiting God looked upon this to mad lovers. The same date when they married  in the same time, with the same moon, same night, same twinkling stars, the same noise of cricket they died both died. Yes there body were in different places Ambaresh in the balcony and Pritilata standing before Ambaresh's paintings  but there soul was the same.

 Hope u enjoyed the stories plsss send comments guys. 

     A story by Saptadweepa  Mukherjee