The box of chocolates

She opened her bleary eyes when the cat, all seven pounds of squirming flesh, climbed onto her belly. Squinting into the sunlight streaming in from the open window, she discovered that she was now the weary possessor of a pounding headache, and at some point, had managed to lose both a tooth and a spouse. 

She sighed as she lay back in her recliner to avoid the blinding glare of the sun.  it is not that she did not enjoy the warmth of those dancing shafts of light, sitting by the window side. They reminded her of the gentle summer breeze, the swaying blooms of her pretty garden, the sprinkles of the fountain of youth, which always welcomed her, whenever she chose to bask in the morning sun or go for evening strolls. But now, the light, its brightness seemed to peer through the dark chamber of secrets, that she had shut from the outside world.  She closed her eyes tight, as if she was holding on to the latch of a door that was desperate to fling open and, release all the prisoners within.

But would she, Marriot, wife of the honourable Colonel Jones, who expired not too long ago, open her secrets some day? She took a deep breath, as if breathing in the sun-soaked scenery outside the window. She could not admire it visually, thanks to the searing pain in her head her but at least she wanted to take in the outdoors-the sounds, smells, and all that was living ,with one long breath! As she did so, stroking her blissfully ensconced cat, it purred in complete contentment. She ran her fingers through the coarse fur of her pet, which had been her companion for more than 3 years now. It did not make up for the loss, she had faced in life but the companionship prevented her from plummeting into a vacuum. The cat’s complacence always reminded her that she had preserved enough to sustain the bare necessities of life – shelter, clothing and food to indulge her whims and fancies, once in a while. Those whims varied from buying chocolates- despite the ostentatious senility-to her favourite hobby of buying books- anything readable she could lay her hands upon.  Though at present, she was handful with her fingers getting stuck in the knots and tangles of the fur on her pet cat. Tufts of silver grey and black of fur also reflected her aging in progress.  She was five decades and a half, more than 5 feet tall, with a slight crouch but lively with all the youthful fancies.

As she continued dreaming, the bright summer days filled with joy and laughter, with once companion and life partner, Jones,  came to life. She had been married for more than 20 years. But Jones was no more, only his memories lingered, like the fragrance of the summer blooms, in the garden. She sighed thinking of how they got together on weekends, especially during his sojourns home once in a month. Jones being posted in the army was away most of the time. But when he could make it home on weekends, they chose this special summer getaway, far off from the clutter and chaos of the city. The speciality of the summer home was a pretty garden, which for the couple, was like an oasis. Both Mariott and Jones had taken special care to source exotic and indigenous plants for their garden. Their efforts paid off well. There were plants, which would bloom for every season. For the couple, it meant a lot symbolically – that their lives would remain in bloom, in every moment, of their togetherness.

Marriot fondly reminisced the Saturday picnics with close family friends(Jones’ army friends, that is). It gave her an opportunity to create a special holiday bake and share it with her friends and folks. Marriot loved baking, one among the many creative things, she indulged in. Fun ‘n’ frolic laced those get-togethers. Women in pretty summer frocks and sun hats would pirouette gayly, as the men would clap to their steps. It was during one such get together she happened to receive a box of chocolates. The box was tucked into her study, with a secret letter of admiration. But it did not have any sign on it. She took it as a friendly gesture. Probably one of those wee-little mischevious happenings that was always taken as camaraderie in their group. But the incoming of chocolates persisted during every get together. However, She did not let it sway from her loyalty to Jones. But those letters with their verses kept pouring in promising the fluff of a delightful summer bake. Marriot was curious about the sender, her secret admirer. And she was sure that he was one among her close circle of friends, to have been able access to her study and surreptitiously slip in that box. Though she loved the chocolates, which had an irresistible nutty flavour(she had a sweet tooth), she could not help feeling guilty in this indulgence. After all, she was married and committed to somebody else. And this pursuit, however sweet ‘n’ melting it seemed on the outside would embitter her relationship with Jones. But she was hellbent on finding out about her ‘secret admirer’.  So, during the next family get together in their summer home, she decided to take a walk alone. She excused herself by saying that she wanted to check on the sapling that she had planted last week. When others were revelling in wine and goodies, she stole away to a secluded patch of newly planted saplings in her garden! She knew that this act of hers would definitely  attract the attention of the sender of chocolates! She hung around in the patch for a while, dropping a neatly folded white paper in the grove- visible enough for her follower to pick it and read the message. Her note read ‘ if you do not reveal yourself, not only will I dismiss your chocolate boxes but also have you tracked through a professional’. 

The note served its purpose, the message was delivered, read and responded to. For the box of chocolates that came Marriot’s way, the next time, bore a message in poetry format. “You shall find me, in the masquerade ball; we will dance, hand in hand, taking every step big and small”. it was signed,  ‘Yours secretively ever’. The masquerade ball was a grand affair in town, where the army personnel gathered with their spouses. It was about to take place in a fortnight’s time.  “In another two weeks, the secret sender of chocolates will materialise before me”, said Marriot to herself.  

When the D-day arrived, Marriot was all set, petite and pretty as ever. She put her arms around Jones’, and stepped into the ballroom. The vividness of the ball always cast a spell on her. the fancy dress, the music and the air was filled with magic. And of course, this time, the element of suprise made her look forward to the event,  more than ever. As she ambled around with Jones, exchanging pleasantries with other members in the room, she was expecting that ‘Mystery man’ would turn up. As she looked hither and thither, an announcement came in prompting the couples for the King’s and Queen’s.  And, the couples were to choose a partner other than the one who had accompanied them to the ball. Marriot assumed her position. No sooner, she did, she saw her would-be dancing partner stepping in by her side.  He wore a mask like others and he bowed to take her hand, and dance in togetherness to the music. As he did so, Marriot could sense the nutty flavour that usually emanated from the chocolates, that slipped into her study. So this was him! But she could not place him among the known folks in her circle. He smiled in acknowledgement of Marriot’s discovery. Before Marriot could utter anything, he put his finger on her lips and carefully put that dangling lock of hair behind her ear. They swayed and danced to the music. The swirl was as enchanting as the man who held her tight to his chest. And all that Marriot remembered of that night was the closeness, to a total stranger. 

She had woken up the next morning with a splitting headache and a nutty chocolate flavour in her mouth. Her ball gown was lying on the floor. From the open window, blew in a gentle breeze and she got up to refresh. As she picked up her gown, a scent reminiscent of the previous night wafted through. But she could not recall more than the dance and the intimacy with which her ‘secret admirer’ had held her in his arms. She could not unravel him but something prodded as the headache pounded her, as if trying to break open the iron doors that Marriot had shut close about the night. She held her temples in desperation when Jones brought in a tray of scones with coffee. Marriot was relieved and refreshed to begin the day anew. She then called out to her help “Charlotte!”

“Yes, Ma’m”, piped in Charlotte, standing next to the recliner, where Marriot was seated. Marriot woke up with a start, startling her cat, who just happened to catch sight of a butterfly, settled on the window sill. He sprung with a rigour, eager to catch his prey, and leapt out into the garden. Marriot''s eyes followed the wings of the butterfly, as colourful and flitting as those moments of melting chocolates and cakes. She did not forget the crunch of the nuts either. She got up, holding her temples and asked Charlotte to make lemonade for her. She proceeded towards her study, and opened her drawer. It had a beautifully encased diary and a chocolate box that was dropped one last time at her study.

She took out the diary and dipped her pen in the inkpot. She opened it, as if feeling a close confidante, right in front of her- expecting to be accepted without question. Her frail fingers quivered, as did her lips. All that was frozen and buried deep in her, was waiting to flow out, in ink. She, Marriot Jones, would write the story of that night, sprinkling it with chocolates, nuts, cream and more…sweet indulgences that cost her, her tooth!