MOONLIGHT SHADOWS - STORY BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI

Reaching the still waters, reflecting the celestial orb like a giant sapphire, Shweta settled onto a mosaic bench. A delicate notebook and a silver pen rested in her hands, ready to transcribe the emotions that bloomed within her – a poem dedicated to beauty and the tender ache of love. Words began to flow, elegant and heartfelt, each line a brushstroke painting vivid imagery on the canvas of the night.

Unseen, unheard, a figure emerged from the shadows of a blossoming jasmine vine. It was Neeraj,  her beloved, his eyes mirroring the adoration he held for her. He carried no instrument, yet a melody stirred within him, inspired by the sight of his muse bathed in moonlight. Silently, he began to hum, a low, resonant tune that wove itself around Shweta's poetic words, an unspoken duet of souls.

As her lyrics  neared its crescendo, Neeraj's humming grew more intricate, more insistent. He extended a hand, his eyes inviting her into a world beyond words. A soft smile touched Shweta's lips. Tonight, their connection needed no language. Hand in hand, they moved, not in structured steps, but in an intuitive dance born of shared joy and deep affection. The moonlight became their spotlight, the fragrant night air their audience.

Laughter mingled with the gentle lapping of the pool water. The world felt suspended, a perfect bubble of happiness enclosing them. Later, the soft glow of candlelight painted their faces as they shared a quiet dinner, the unspoken language of love filling the comfortable silence. This was their life, a wall-hanging woven with dreams, beauty, and the unwavering thread of their bond.

But the night held a tremor beneath its peaceful surface. Drawn by an irresistible urge, Shweta moved towards the edge of the pool. The water looked inviting, almost alive with reflected moonlight. A sudden impulse, a desire to feel the cool embrace of the water against her skin, overcame her. She stepped in.

The initial shock was pleasant, but then a strange disorientation washed over her. The smooth tiles beneath her feet seemed to shift, and a sudden, terrifying weakness gripped her limbs. Panic flared. She couldn't move. The peaceful mood shattered, replaced by a cold dread that constricted her chest.

A frantic cry escaped her lips. Neeraj, startled, rushed to the poolside. He saw her struggling, her elegant gown now a heavy shroud pulling her down. Fear lent him speed. He reached for her, but the slippery edge offered no secure footing.

Just as despair threatened to engulf them both, another figure appeared – Rohan-the pool security Guard , a quiet presence who often tended the villa's gardens. Hearing Shweta's cry, she had raced towards the commotion. With a calm strength that belied her gentle nature, Neerja grabbed a long, sturdy bamboo pole used for tending the water lilies. Extending it towards Shweta, she urged her to grasp it.

With trembling hands, Shweta latched onto the pole. Rohan, now anchored by Neerja's firm grip on his arm, pulled with all his might. Slowly, agonizingly, they drew Shweta towards the edge. Finally, with a collective gasp of relief, they hauled her out of the water, shivering and shaken.

The laughter and the dance were distant memories now. Huddled together, the initial fear gave way to a profound gratitude. The near-tragedy had cast a stark light on the fragility of their happiness.

Later, wrapped in warm blankets, they walked towards a small, stone hut nestled in a quiet corner of their property – a place where they often sought solace and offered prayers. The moonlight still bathed the garden, but the shadows now seemed deeper, holding a silent reminder of the night's unexpected turn. Kneeling together, they offered a heartfelt prayer of thanks, their voices hushed in the stillness.

The dreamlike quality of their evening had been pierced by a moment of stark reality, a twist that served as an  emotional reminder of the preciousness of their life together. The beauty of the moonlight now carried a whisper of vulnerability, a subtle suspense that lingered in the peaceful air as they finally retreated into the comforting embrace of their hut.