My fingernails dug into my palms but I felt no pain. The grey clouds thundered a warning and closed in to stop my retreating limbs, in vain. I dragged my weathered suitcase down the clean cobblestone driveway, each step slow and measured but never hesitant.
The ornate gates of the Raman palatial bungalow closed in on me.
One last time.
Now, for me, Dhriti Raman, there was no looking back. I let out that breath which had yearned to be freed from the formidable web of emotions whose heaviness could have well strangled it.
I rested my weary thighs on the park bench and looked up at the specks of blue pushing through the gray, as if clamouring for my attention. I smiled at them. We shared an unbounded friendship, no questions asked. Years ago, they had treasured my dreams. And I had kept stacking it upon them endlessly. Small, big, absurd, logical. Gosh! They kept increasing with time. But everything was accommodated neatly.
Dreams to be an entrepreneur, start a my boutique, launch my designer brand, host a fashion show,…….the list never ended.
I remembered the day I took my father to the park. We sat on the same bench and I showed him my castle of dreams built upon the limitless blue.
He listened to my excited rant and laughed, “My dear, we will look for a real sky where your dreams are welcome to grow and bear fruition. ”
It was perfect when I got married to Rakesh Raman, a progressive industrialist.
Every nook and corner of the Raman house smelt money. The crisp currency was a dash of rainbow upon my blue.
The sky looked vibrant. I would get there eventually.
Our family grew. The years had to travel through a dark tunnel. I took over Rakesh’s failing pharmaceutical business.
I had to restack ‘my’ dreams to accommodate ‘his’. I didn’t mind.
“It is ‘ours’, darling.” Rakesh would kiss me, his eyes glowing in anticipation.
Days were filled with fierce marketing, endless negotiations, cutting frills, and chasing profits. Nights saw my little girls hugging me tight and sleeping through story time, while I lay awake and kept an eye on the sky till I dozed off in exhaustion.
‘Business Times’ soon carried the headline, ‘Rakesh Pharma on the Road to Recovery.’
Rakesh smiled, “This is our victory.” I felt the stress on ‘our’ unnerving now.
One day, I sat him down. “I have done my research on the fashion trends, Rakesh. I have the designs ready. I need to focus on my building my brand. Hope you understand.”
“What is the hurry, Dhriti? First, let us hope that Rakesh Pharma has a smooth ride henceforth. And you are required to be at the helm of it. You are at the peak of your career. We will see about this later.”
Mine?
“ But… we have spoken about this earlier. The entire staff is there to help you……” He wasn’t listening.
*********
I went to the garden and sat on the hammock.
Dad… you were wrong. The sky has shrunk in size and there’s no space for my dreams. They have left. I don’t know when.
Space, I realised, does not always disappear dramatically. It shrinks politely. It yields an inch at a time—to responsibility, to compromise, to love, to fear.
I suddenly felt claustrophobic under acres of blue. As if, they were struggling to accommodate me.
I had to leave to reclaim my sky. In its entirety.
- I signed the documents, thus offloading the weight of his dreams from my shoulders.
“Think again. You can’t undo your mistakes even if you wish to.” He sounded a warning.
I smiled and picked up my suitcase.
Shrinking spaces sometimes put pressure on you to step out and find your own. I had learnt my lesson.
This story is written for Inntales-2 writing contest by Artoonsinn. The prompt is to weave a narrative around a space that shrinks literally or metaphorically in the story.
Pic Courtesy-Pixabay free images.
