Ranvijay got off the rickety cab, inhaling deeply. The fresh redolence of the new blooms blended with the wet earth, bringing back his adolescent nostalgia and unforgettable memories with his Ginni, his first love.
He stared at the senile Haweli standing disregarded after his father Raaja Saheb passed away three years ago, but wondrously royal nonetheless.
Handing his luggage to the manservant, Ranvijay walked deep into the shrubbery, finally halting at the giant Oak. He looked up to see the treehouse ‘RanGi’ beaming in its wanton glory. Fifteen years had failed to mitigate its rustic charm. As the dark clouds loomed over, he hurriedly climbed up the wobbly rungs and reached the treehouse.
The door opened noiselessly to the single room immaculate and resplendent just like he had last seen it. He smiled, blinking back tears as he sat on the lone bed, its softness welcoming him to its embrace.
As the rain Gods poured their fury, thunder vibrated through the walls of the house, fulminating lightning the only source of luminance. Ranvijay stared into the oscillating mirror within its carved ornates; he saw the most beautiful facsimile standing right behind him. Turning around, he saw her at the threshold; her chiffon saree blended to her lithe dripping wetness even as the staccato light did nothing to hide her contours.
“Gi…Ginni…?” he asked at the sudden southward gush of blood.
She walked towards him, her trinkets making the perfect rhythm with the rain lashing upon the treehouse roof. She stood before him; her beautiful doe eyes filled with unshed tears. No less than a celestial nymph, she marked an invisible path on his face with her cold finger halting on his lips.
His arousal now threatened to tear out of its boundaries as he insufflated her raw floral scent mixed with the petrichor earth. Pulling back her waist-length hair, he claimed her full and tremulous pink petals….
Soon moans of ecstasy battled with the pitter-patter as Ranvijay was engulfed in the throes of passionate copulation, the world around him ceasing to exist.
“How are you, my sweet Ginni…? I missed you.” Ranvijay purred as they lay satiated.
“Viju… there is a lot beneath the façade of this flawless candor. You are too late….” She stood wrapping her wet saree hurriedly around her coquettish body and rushed out of the treehouse.
Befuddled, Ranvijay dressed desultorily and was out into the woods looking for her, but in vain. Dejected, he got back to the Haweli and met the old gardener, Ginni’s father.
“Chacha, where is Ginni…? I just met her in the treehouse…”
Chacha’s forlorn-aged eyes filled.
“Viju beta, Ginni battled severe depression ever since you left. She kept to herself in that treehouse all the time, finally ending her misery two years ago. Raaja saheb, worried about the ill-effects of the bad omen, felled the tree destroying RanGi….”
Ranvijay bolted towards the treehouse at full-throttle. There was nothing but a piece of the stump, a desolate reminder of RanGi
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