The Second spring

"Hi, it's me, do u want 2 hear a story tht cld bcome ur next book?" she typed the keys of her mobile fervently with no less sorrow to entertain her anymore. It was not the love for fame nor the means to become immortal, trapped in the words of her blossoming writer friend. It was simply a feeling of surrendering oneself ultimately to what fate had decided to make her swerve towards the next big U-turn her life was going to take. Isn't fate the mighty hand that pushes one, shoving till one trod on the path chosen by it? Well, who can fight that mighty hand which is keen to lead you like the first time mother who enjoys the first steps of her first born?

A heavy sigh expelled from her tired lips, which were now pursed together and her eyes followed suit. No tears flowed; tears were almost a cliché that eluded those eyes. Throughout her entire life she had believed that eyes are the windows of emotions but not anymore, her eyes had learnt better than to trust that phrase. She took a furtive glance at the one person for whom she had given her entire world away, he went on snoring unaware of the step that had been taken that would change their entire season of life.

Winter is a cold season and everything turns cold, even the love in one's heart freezes. Had it been summer she would definitely not have taken that drastic step. Summer for her was the season of bounty, well at least the starting of the bountiful season of the rich harvest that follows only after the showers of the summer season. If you compare human life with the different season, isn't it in the summer season one faces the thunderous adult life, that gradually takes one to fulfilled fruitful season. In the mellow autumn of ones life, fruitful parenthood, one sees the blessed nature of life. She was in her autumn season if you measure it by that scale but winter had followed sooner than she had expected. Spring had taken the farthest backseat and regeneration was yet to happen.

Slowly, she slipped outside, debating deep with the most intense feeling of rebuttal issued forth by her unsure heart. "Maybe, he'll not know that sms was from me. How would he know it's my number?" Even as she thought this thought, she became aware of her stupidity. Fourteen years had passed since their last conversation which was a rigid "I don't want to talk to you" type of conversation; at least she made it seem like that. Recently on her visit to one of her classmate, she had heard that he had published a book and was writing his second. Maybe it was some mighty hand that shoved her to save his number, well, whatever it was before she realized she had asked her friend whether she knew his number and she found herself punching his number on her cell, first gift of love from her husband.

They met; he wrote her story, published the book and it became an instant hit. In reality, he changed the course of her story by offering her the next path that lay hidden in the thick foliage of social norms. Who hasn't heart the saying, if winter is here can spring be far? Spring has blossomed yet again, along with the continuation of the love story which was left unfinished fourteen years ago.