~~~~~~~~

Reaching home, Roopa pondered over Prasad’s missive further, ‘Why not I tear it and be done with it? But then, won’t he assume that I’ve read it. Better I return it to him as is where is. Yes, that would give him a clear picture of how my mind is closed to him, having been locked by Raja’s thoughts.’

Soon, having decided upon the mode of its disposal, she had hidden Prasad’s missive behind the bookshelf, and tried to forget about it. However, as the incident haunted her no end, she tried to divert her mind, and to rid herself of the embarrassing trespass, she took a romantic ride on the thoroughfare of her heart.

‘Had it been from my Raja, I might still be kissing the cover, unable to gather my wits to part my quivering lips from it,’ she thought endearingly. ‘Oh, while my eyes would have been kept in anxious waiting to read his outpouring, wouldn’t have my heart missed its beat in anticipation.’ However, as the reality of it all dawned on her, she thought melancholically, ‘What a tragedy that the first love letter I’ve received should’ve caused fright instead.’

Fed by her anxiety, she had a meager meal, and as though to push the issue into her subconscious self, she settled for siesta. But as if to spare her subconsciousness from the dilemma, her consciousness kept sleep at bay keeping the issue alive in her mind.

‘What made him think I would take it?’ she contemplated in all humiliation. ‘And I did accept it, didn’t I? It was a cat and mouse between us all along, was it not? In a way, was I not enjoying it? Of course, he could be expected to strike at some point, wouldn’t he? Strike he did and what’s so surprising about it? Now that he has thrown down the gauntlet, won’t I have to ready myself for the battle?’

‘If not for anything else,’ she thought at length, ‘I need to read it to avert the threat he might be posing to undo me, so as to have idea about his attack to fashion my own strategy? Well, it makes sense to read his mind in his letter.’

So Roopa retrieved the letter from behind the bookshelf and began reading it with apprehension.

“Roopa, my hope,

I’m aware that my move would agitate you. But how am I to portray the thousand deaths I died wanting to avoid distressing you.

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All these days, I’ve chosen to suffer silently without making you privy to my predicament. Then, it dawned on me that I owe it to you to let you know that a poor soul is bathing in the warmth of love that is inspired by you. That apart, do I have any right to deny my love its legitimate expression and how does that matter even if it’s unrequited?