Angel in Fuchsia

By Sushma Gopalan

Every individual has an angel guarding and guiding them into the future, leaving behind the past that sometimes holds them back. All that is required is a little attention to their soft whispers.
Anne is a young woman who carries the guilt of a loss so huge that it has shattered the very core of her family. She is unable to move on in her life because of the truth that she hides from her family, fearing their rejection.
At a point of literal no-return, an unexpected call makes her change the way she thinks and take a close, hard look at her life.
Will Anne finally be able to face the truth? Will she find the answers she is
looking for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Mar 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482846003

Sushma Gopalan

Sushma Gopalan is an avid reader whose passion for stories and poetry always found her with a pen and paper. She finally put her dreams into words and has come out with her debut novel, 'Angel In Fuchsia'. Her writing is free-flowing and easy to follow that will keep the readers wanting for more! She currently lives in Bangalore with her newly wed husband and is working on her next novel.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Sitting at the kitchen table I look at my reflection on the glass window. Its dusk and the sun has cast a warm glow over the entire horizon, the birds are all chirping and heading home, there is a warm wind that seems to be gently rustling the leaves and grass to a rhythm of the impending night. I can see the sun has spread its orangish-red fingers to touch and caress every single thing falling at its path and giving a glowing hue. I can hear the sound of waves crashing against the beach and the scent of the sea soothes my soul to sway to a gentle music. The flowers in my garden are all smiling up at me and I can see the mango tree laden with delicious fruits bend as if whispering something sweet to the blowing wind. It’s a quiet and peaceful moment and I smile as I count myself lucky to be alive to see all this.

Fifty one years is not exactly old according to him. He still thinks I’m the most beautiful girl on earth. Even when he makes love now, it is with the same passion that burned between us the first time we touched. I smile as I count myself as one of the most loved woman, for the hundredth time that day. As I gaze upon my reflection on the window pane, I see that the years have all etched an extra line onto my face, each line mirroring a year gone by. Years of smiling and laughing have given grooves and lines around my mouth and eyes, each sad moment have added a line on my forehead. But still I feel beautiful. As I continue looking I feel content and happy for the life I have led. I know I’m blessed to be having this life and I know the reason for it. I had to lead the life of two souls and one heart.

Our heart is a wonderful organ, it starts beating by the time we are just four weeks old and continues to do so till our last breath. The question now is, how do we treat such a wonderful, precious and selfless heart? Do we actually take care of it? Eating right is a physical means to care for it, but is it well nurtured and nourished with love and care? A great scientist once told me that our heart is capable of carrying tons of weight; ten folds more than that our physical body can take! And we call our heart delicate and fragile…

I was not exactly very good to my heart; I have subjected it to extreme conditions throughout the various stages of my life; I shall explain the reasons later. My life could have been orchestrated better. But what I’m grateful for is that I was blessed with a second chance to live a life that I almost threw away. I now know that there is an angel standing right next to me, holding my hand and guiding me every time I stumble or halt. I have to tell this story so that you understand that everyone has an angel guiding them, it is just that we are often too immersed in our noisy world to hear their soft whispers. I’m glad I heard mine at the right time by listening to my heart and accepting the help that was given to me.

My name is Anne and this is my story on how I learnt to love and live again after discovering my guardian angel. You don’t have to know my city, town or country. What matters is that the story that is going to unfold will touch a chord in everyone, irrespective of country, religion or gender. To know the end, we have to start from the place it all began, and for me looking at my past, I can clearly say when it all began.

PAST

Family, friends, picnics, dinners, scraped knees,

homework, exams, cute boys/girls, festivals, laughter,

tears are few of the things that made up childhood.

Lucky are those who have it,

unlucky are those actual lot who have it but don’t realize it!

CHAPTER – 1

Pink or black skirt? I asked Chris.

It was prom night and I wanted to look my best even though I did not have a date, and who can be a better judge than a guy?! Chris stared at them both helplessly while my frown willed him to give an apt answer.

Shrugging he replied Black. That’s it.

Staring at him I wondered if he was really an ass or just became one a second ago.

Black??? But is pink not the color for girls??? Pink makes us look very cute and pretty I wailed.

We stood glaring at each other across the room until he breaks the eye contact first and shoving his hands inside his jean pockets, sauntered out of the room muttering under his breath how we girls are so weird and confused when it comes to dresses. My mouth hangs open and I could not believe that he just walked out of the door ignoring my high priority dilemma. This was the guy I trusted with the most crucial question.

As I was about to drop back dead on my bed, he poked his head around the doorway, Wear the pink and be ready by 6, I will pick you up at SHARP 6. And by that I mean 6 PM on the dot. Rolling my eyes I threw a pillow on his retreating head and wished I was not alive to go through what was going to happen in the evening.

Chris has been my neighbor and best friend for as long as I know. We met when we were being dropped off at school by our mothers. He was clinging to her for his dear life and crying, while I could not wait to get out of my mother’s arms. Hard to say, it is exactly the reverse in high school. Chris is the drop dead gorgeous, cute looking guy at school, whereas I’m the plump, bespectacled, braces wearing geek. The only thing common between us is that we both are good at studies. But that’s where the similarity ends. His academic excellence is cool while mine is nerdy! The world is so unfair. He has a trail of girls behind him, while mine is just barren till you could see. Even the most uncool guy thought twice before talking to me. Meet me, the official guy repellent. Today takes the cake, its prom night and the most important day in a high school student’s life. And I’m alone. If it had not been for Chris, I most definitely would have been. Praise the Lord for tiny mercies.

After thinking over and over again as to what to do regarding the impending doom, I dutifully do what I always do in such life threatening situations, run to my father.

Running down to his study I pushed open the door to find him writing.

‘Dad, it is Prom night and I don’t want to go. Everyone will be there looking pretty and beautiful and with SOMEONE. I do not want to go all alone looking like a pumpkin. I hate it.’ There, I said it. Putting down his pen my father stared at me and smiled.

‘So what if others are with someone, others are pretty etc etc. You are beautiful in your own way. Trust me, one day they will look at you with awe and respect. Don’t let them intimidate you. And throw this inferiority complex sweetheart. You are so lucky in so many things. Do not compare your life with others. Face situations. Enjoy the night. It happens only once. Be a sport and go have a good time. Do not spend too much time thinking what others feel or think about you. You will be fine.’

I knew what my father was telling is the truth, but it was so difficult to put the theory in practice. As I stood there looking down still not convinced, my father said softly,

It is not how you look that matters dear, it is what you are made of. I know you will not realize now, but one day you will turn back and realize that what I said is the truth. Cheer up, if it will make you feel better, I shall ground you for tonight. What say? I gaped at him and seeing him smile started laughing.

Hugging him I promised to go and make the best of what it was. It was Prom night after all and how worse can it get?!

I ended up wearing the pink dress and standing in front of the mirror, actually felt beautiful. All my puppy fat, kitten fat, calf fat and cub fat had been camouflaged in the delicate folds of the dress. Walking down the stairs I entered the living room where my parents and sister were waiting and twirled around.

You look very pretty honey.

I smiled at my mom and looked up at my dad who was beaming, I had my answers. Basking in their admiration, I heard Chris honking outside and looked at my watch, sharp 6. Not wanting to hear him berate me about my time sense I hugged my parents, kissed my sister and rushed out.

You know in a really selfish way I’m happy that your girlfriend is out of town. I can enter the Prom with you! I smile guiltily as I close the car door.

Thank you Anne, very considerate of you. But even if she had been there, I would have still picked you up.

I settle back in the seat happily, knowing that the night had a good start after all!

Let me say that Prom night was exactly how I thought it would be. I saw all the beautiful and pretty girls saunter past me while I sunk lower and lower into my shell. For how long I lay hibernating in there I did not know. I stayed at the table till Liz came and joined me. Liz, well what can I say about her. She has been Chris’s and my best friend from the Third Grade. She is one of the sweetest girls I have ever known. Beautiful and without a single mean-bone in her entire body she is one of the most popular girls in school. Even at that young age, I knew that she will never judge me for my actions and will stand by me no matter what.

‘Not dancing? And what is with the double chin? I saw you sitting as if someone just mugged you and got away.’

Ya I wish someone could mug away all my fat! I’m just watching everyone from here, you go ahead, and I will join you in a while.

Do you mind moving your body from that chair and honor us all with a small dance? Oh, did you see Jane and Anita?

No, what happened? I stand up to see where the two targets are. And there they were, at the opposite ends of the room, wearing the exact same dress. In high school, this is the ultimate humiliation and fashion disaster.

How Liz forced me for a dance I would never know. All I know is that by the end of the night, Liz, Chris and I had a nice time dancing. This was the single most excruciatingly painful experience of my life till that point of time, though it ended well!

I loved our countryside house for the peace and comfort it gave me. An hour’s drive and we had the beach all for ourselves. Our town was tucked away from the outside eye and was a little haven of its own; every season visited us at regular intervals and was exactly at clock-work. We knew our neighbors well and were very rarely subjected to strangers. Since the town was tucked away, tourism was very less and the little cottages lining the beachside were only rented to the sparse tourists who used our place as a get away from the hustle and bustle of the city life. More often than not the tourists were either young couples or a group of friends. A two hours drive would take us to the main beach which is the main tourist attraction and had the best mix of all communities and countries. You would find the locales over there talking in languages such as French, German, English and Hindi. This used to be our place to hang around during the weekends, where half the day would pass playing in the water or studying the people who would come there. It is amazing how we humans, who have similar bodies, can be so different just by tweaking the color, shape and structure of our visible appendages. It is here that I used to come with my family once a month and every weekend with Chris and Liz.

Dad was a doctor and worked at the hospital in our town. He was considered one of the best because not only was he good at what he did, but also had a way with people. He could make them laugh no matter what the situation was. Everyone loved him. And the love of his life was my mother. They fell in love when they were teenagers and have been inseparables ever since. Even after all these years my mother still blushes whenever she sees my father. I’m lucky and I know it because of the loving family I have, and also because I’m my father’s pet. There was nothing in this world that my father could not fix, he was my hero. He made my Prom night click too!! I had a cocooned and sheltered life. My family and friends always provided me everything I needed, be it emotional support or fun. My baby sister Bella literally worshipped the ground I walked on. She wanted specs and braces just because I had them, how cool was that. School was a very trivial problem. I stopped trying to fit in like my father said and concentrated on other aspects. Things gradually became better as I concentrated on my studies and other activities. Weekends were spent with family. We would plan for picnics or a long drive just so that the family could be together. Saturdays Chris Liz and I would cycle around or go for movies, evenings would be family get together and Sunday evenings Dad and Mom’s friends would drop in for dinner.

Our home was always bustling with life. I never felt lonely or alone ever. Every night I would thank God for the life I had and pray that my parents would always be happy. We did not have relatives but had many friends, I know I had an uncle or an aunt somewhere, but therein the knowledge died. I guess distant relatives can be given a literal meaning too. My mother had a younger sister, I had seen a couple of their photographs together, but my mother never spoke about her. Once when we were all looking at our old faded photo album, I happened to ask mom about her sister, which was the first time I saw her get extremely agitated and walk away. Immediately my father went to talk to her and after a few murmured discussions he came back alone.

Your mother is not comfortable talking about her sister Anne. She loves her a lot, maybe we will tell you about her sometime later. You have to know.

Something about the way he said made me want to ask him right away the reason, but right then mom came back and I thought I shall hold off questioning until later. It was just one photograph, probably the sisters fought and the other one walked away in a huff. I stare at Bella and wonder how huge the row must have been for my elusive Aunt to walk away. The only way Bella or I would walk away from each other would be when… No, I don’t think so ever. I sneaked a glance at my parents and saw them smile back at me. Things were back to normal and with a sigh I let my questions go.

Life was good, except for the terror at school and my secret crush on Liz’s older brother Rakesh or Rocky as everyone called him. I first saw him when I was in the fourth Grade and he was in the Sixth. I had been to Liz’s house for sleep over and the bratty brother that he was; he had ruined our night by scaring us to no end. I remember Liz and Rocky chasing each other the entire night while I sat in my sleeping bag and glued my eyes on to Rocky running across the room. As we grew up, he became not so bratty, but oh so cute! He was studying in the city and would visit the town whenever he got holidays. Those were the days when I used to always have palpitation problem, just knowing he was in the town radius.

It so happens that no matter where we are, every place passes through a phase where they are stuck with a new madness, be it a song, a hair style or apparel, in our case, the new craze around our town was cars. Everyone seemed to be getting one and cycles or bikes were not so cool any more. Even Liz and Chris got one. We would go for long drives around the countryside, watch the sunrise, sunset, picnics, beach and have many of our intelligent talks on cute boys and girls (for Chris). I never hinted to my father that I wanted one too. There did not seem to be any need. I knew I could always use the local bus for college or that my friends would drive me around anywhere if the need arose. My father was not the kind who could be talked into buying something just for the craze of it. He saved and spent every penny carefully. So, it was a pleasant surprise when my father bought home a shiny blue baby. Just for me. I could not wait to get started. My mother felt it was not required at the moment and that the money could have been used for something else instead. The thing was my father had always wanted to buy a car, when he saw that all the kids were driving around one, he felt that his daughter should not feel the same that he had felt when he was young. Even though I never asked him for anything, my father sometimes took it upon himself to fulfill at least half of my wishes. So, after my mother’s reluctant approval, he taught me driving.

This was the first taste of freedom I got and I was in no hurry to let the moment pass. I would cruise along the roads whenever I got the chance, all alone, feeling extremely independent, important and powerful. There definitely is something about the engines; I was on top of the world. Nothing could ever go