The Last Bangle

“Why am I… running?”

I was thinking this while crossing the dull bridge over a dry river. The wind, mixed with sand, and my painfully tired legs were making it hard for me to run, but my happiness and satisfaction were putting up a good fight. Then I started recalling things one by one.

“Just a bangle. One bangle.”

This was the first time my wife had asked something from me. I remember her passing by that jewellery shop in a nearby town and fixing her eyes on that gold bangle that was shining the brightest, alongside her eyes. She asked me last month, and today is her birthday. She’s 20 now. Time passes so fast, doesn’t it?

I was 14 and she was 13 when we first met. Unlike me, she was too pretty—just like an angel—and from a very wealthy family, a life filled to the brim with happiness. But still, she left everything—her family, her friends, her beauty items which she dearly loved—everything, just for me. A talentless, inter-fail boy.

It has been nine months since we ran away from our homes and left our state. She being a Muslim and I a Hindu was the biggest reason of all. Our orthodox families would have never accepted us, despite our unconditional and endless love for each other. I was too scared to run, but her courage gave me strength.

We knew it would be hard, but how hard, our childish brains had no idea. Even a few rupees rising on potatoes were enough to make us both depressed. But since we were together, that sadness never lasted long. Maybe it’s true that “money can’t buy happiness,” but one surely needs money to maintain happiness.

I was so happy that I fulfilled my dear’s wish. I was imagining how happy she would be after finding that shining gold bangle I hid inside her broken almirah. My joyful, maniacal smile was surely scaring the kids coming in front of me, but I just couldn’t stop smiling. I was just too happy!

Why wouldn’t I be? I gave my wife what she wanted—my dear wife who is struggling so much for me. She has lost more than 15 kg in these past six months, but her charm is still the same as the first time we met. Despite being the single daughter of the wealthiest man in our town, she is working as a maid in multiple homes to help me. She can go back to her family anytime she wants and they will accept her without a doubt, but still she is living like this for me.

She is truly the most generous, kindest, and pure-hearted soul I have ever met. Sometimes I even doubt if she is real or if I am just dreaming. Otherwise, how can an average-looking, good-for-nothing boy like me get a girl so pretty—as if God made her for himself? Her big round black eyes, her long silk-like hair, her perfectly balanced face with no imperfections, her way of talking, her voice, the way she smiles, her humor—even her teeth. Everything is so goddamn perfect that it doesn’t make any sense.

But I do know one thing with utmost certainty. She deserves never-ending happiness in this life, and I will make sure she gets that. I will do anything to give her a good life—and actually, I did.

I did the impossible! With a salary of just 50 rupees a day, I gave my beloved wife the 11,000-rupee bangle she desired, that too on her birthday. I might be the proudest man on this planet today. Yes, it took all my savings, several days of fasting, working overtime, my precious watch, and a lot of rejections—but it was all worth it. I somehow managed to collect 9,500 rupees.

And suddenly—it happened.

My legs and lungs finally gave up, and I collapsed to the ground. The tall police officer, along with a few locals, caught up to me and beat me a little before grabbing hold of me. They searched for the bangle, but by then it was already where it needed to be. I was hurt a little by the beating, but I was still smiling. It might have pissed the officer off, so he gave me a few more hits.

I was tired and breathless, and my eyes were filled with tears—but my heart was completely filled with joy and satisfaction. But I wished the jeweller had agreed to my request to take the remaining amount in a few months. Then maybe I might have seen her a few more times. But maybe it was for the best.

I was arrested, and since I was in no condition to pay the 11,000 rupees—nor to get a lawyer—I was sentenced to three years in jail.

The whole court was amazed to see that I didn’t have the slightest ounce of regret or guilt. Instead, I was proud and extremely happy. Not because I was able to give my wife what she wanted, but because of the note I kept alongside the bangle and 5,600 rupees.

“Maya,

I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can continue living like this anymore.
I am tired, my love. I know you are too.

Sometimes it’s better to choose our future instead of what we love—for not just our happiness but for our loved ones’ happiness too.

I am going to move forward in life without you. I want you to do the same. Please take this as the last request from the man you love the most. Don’t waste your time trying to find me, because I will not be in this state anymore.

With the money I am leaving, please eat something good and healthy—not the sweets you love. Buy yourself a new pretty dress, and go back to your family and start a new life.

If you can’t forget me, please throw the bangle away or give it to some poor girl. It might help you.

Take care, and I wish you all the happiness you deserve.
Happy birthday.”