A Change Of Heart

By Maham I.

It looked like the sunlight was attempting in vain to force its way through the expanse of the dense, violet clouds. The sky had been reflecting a palette of vibrant colours that had been changing and blending from time to time, until the violet clouds had abruptly taken over. The blanket of purple clouds felt smothering. I had been staring at that infinitely existent sky when something about this course of nature reminded me a lot of the once fragmented life of mine...My thoughts took a turn down memory lane... Being the only daughter of Desmond Arthur; one of the famous landlords in eighteenthcentury England; I bore a high status in society even when I was just a toddler. However, I was a timid child and refrained from mingling with people, one of the reasons why I wasnt good at making acquaintances. The only people I knew and conversed to by far were my father, mother and governess. But timidity was not what led me to contort into a being that I imagined to be covered in an impenetrable veil of coldness and hardness. My parents had been forced into an arranged matrimony and the consequences resulted in my isolation. I was about ten and could somewhat comprehend the tense relationship they had. They were so engulfed in the hatred they shared mutually, that I was left unattended and uncared for. When no one bothered to sing me to sleep, wipe my tears when I fell and scraped my knees and praise me for my childish triumphs, I was caused to believe that shedding tears was an act of cowardice; a weak act. Thus seventeen years of staying in seclusion carved me into a statue of ignorance and pride. But in the depths of my folded heart there laid a weakness that I couldnt deny. It was that the very notion of being close to anyone brought its own set of fears, another reason that led me away from any kind of relationship, even that with my parents. What if my fate ended the same as theirs? What if I lost someone dear to me? I knew that I couldnt bear to live if that would happen. Thus I shaped myself in a manner that would help me stay away from any feelings, whether of joy or sorrow. However, among my typically uninteresting and dull days, there dawned one that happened to change things. Everything as a matter of fact, now that I recall... It was a balmy summers afternoon, as I toured the garden in the estate house that belonged to my Uncle Rochester; a cousin of my mothers. Since I preferred to enjoy my summers alone, it was habitual of the governess out of her constant worrying to send me here as a means of entertainment. I had prolonged my stay a few weeks this summer. It would be evening in an hour or so and thus I decided to return to the villa. As I rounded a corner, my step faltered as I tripped over a stone and landed into the arms of a man. I let no colour stain my cheeks or give away any hint of nervousness as I stared at him. Well, he was more a boy than a man, perhaps nineteen or twenty, though masculine and broad shouldered but his appearance was unlike that of a servants. Something about his features entranced me. However, I came into my senses and immediately drew back although he stood there with his arms still outstretched. What is the meaning of this preposterous act sir?, I inquired. Is that how they say thank you back in your place miss? he dared to tease with a smile.

Well then, thank you. I snapped and walked past him at a brisk pace to the villa. I was oddly intrigued and disturbed by this bizarre association with a complete stranger. While I sat in the parlor and pondered over what he was doing in the gardens anyway, the man in question suddenly appeared in the doorway. Slightly astonished, I recovered and then demanded: Who are you sir? And how dare you intrude in this private property? I made no attempt to conceal my anger as I glared at him. I happen to be the late son of the owner of this private property my lady he replied softly, oblivious to any tension that I deemed was arising. Nonsense sir, I happen to visit this house every summer frequently for the past five years. And I most certainly did not happen to witness your presence. What do you have to say to that? Nothing, but that I have been abroad studying for the last six years and am now finally returned home at last, he replied, and then said in a mocking serious tone, disappointed though I am with the welcoming reception, for instance, take yourself into account, dear cousin. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere at this point and I decided my lashings were better kept in than out since they would do nothing to improve the awkwardness in the air. Your father is in the study perhaps. Let me go fetch him. I replied solemnly and walked out the doorway. Except that he stood there and though the doorway was six feet wide, I had no idea why, but it suddenly seemed very constricted. Just as I was about to climb the gleaming spiral stairway that led to the upper floors, the man addressed me again, in a humble tone this time. My name is Nicholas Abberforth Rochester. I look forward to knowing you. I happen to keep to myself entirely, perhaps you dont know that, but Ill forgive you for the fault regardless. Goodbye Mister Rochester. Evening had fallen when I found Uncle Rochester in the study, sitting on his couch, poring through his tinted spectacles intently over a manuscript which I decided was far too unlikely for him to be reading. On nearing however, it turned out; the old man was in a sound slumber. It felt impertinent to awaken him so I fetched a blanket from a nearby cupboard and draped it over him. I turned around to leave and found his son standing beside the door. I suppose standing beside doorways everywhere I turn is your area of expertise? I asked coldly. And yours to misinterpret the innocent intentions of people perhaps. He teased and said, Anyhow, I was wondering that you do possess a heart however? For you would not care to tend to my father in such a tender manner I gather? was the sarcastic remark of Mister Rochester. I stared coldly at the man who dared to intrude my personal space. I did not wait to reply but walked simply to my room and dressed to get to bed. I went about my usual stroll in the garden an hour or two before breakfast the next morning. There was no breeze but the weather was pleasant altogether. The little miniature pond bathed in the golden sunlight. As I sat on a wooden bench beside the small pond and let my sight wander around the blue crystal surface, Mister Rochester appeared out of nowhere. Nice morning, dear cousin? he said, a breathtaking smile upon his face. I suppose. I kept my reply short. Not one for talks are you Miss ? Marianne. Marianne Desmond. Charming name for a charming lady...he commented. I simply stared at him. Youre pursuing me in vain sir, you would meet nothing but disappointment I can assure you. What troubles you in calling me Nicholas may I ask? he asked somewhat wearily.

Well, Nicholas, apologies if you think me rude, but I find you intensely frustrating, irritating, preposterous and impertinent. Good morning. I said and walked away but not without hearing him exclaim hurriedly under his breath: Better stop... Having no idea what he meant, I continued ahead. My dear cousin depicted quite a different person on the breakfast table however since he hardly paid any attention to me. Uncle Rochester exclaimed: Nicholas my boy, have you met dear Marianne here? Shes a far away cousin of yours you know... Yes I have dear father. my cousin replied shortly without any humor. Good, good. Well, I was wondering whether you will willingly take all my financial dealings in your hands now that youre here. asked my uncle. Surely father, you neednt worry anymore. said my cousin, and then paused before continuing humorously with that familiar teasing smile, I want you to rest now, its been too long for an old man like you, and no wonder the business is at a downfall, I shant be surprised if you can hardly jingle those brains of yours at this age At this my uncle had a hearty laugh and replied indignantly: I am as fit as a fiddle my dear boy, and a game of chess after this shall decide the workings of my brain at this age. As previously decided my uncle and cousin then had a go at chess. Uncle happened to win the first time as well as the second when my cousin smiled and finally said: Guess you havent lost the touch even now dear father. Forgive me for my earlier accusation. No, no, dear lad, it wasnt an easy task I assure you. The day passed without any further encounters of me with my cousin. I was glad though because I was unnaturally awkward around him. He wasnt just charming in attitude and humor. And this I realized was not a good thing. I knew that no other men or women had been able to penetrate my shell of hardness but still I would not - could not - let myself get interested in anyone. I couldnt let the shroud of coldness slip away from me. Not now. And thus more days passed as I decided to stay in my room more often and preferred it to going out for strolls and risk the chance of meeting my cousin. But somehow, the resolve collapsed, not on my behalf, but my cousins. It was six in the evening a week from my cousins arrival. There was a short, quick rap on my door. Thinking it was one of the maids or man servants, I said Come in. But it turned out to be my cousin. At once, I set my face in a hard mask, which I hoped dearly, didnt betray the sudden feeling of joy that surged in me at the prospect of seeing him (now why was that?). My cousin wore a somber expression on his face. Somehow I had gotten so used to seeing it smiling that it didnt seem right, it looked better when it wore a smile, when those eyes twinkled and I stopped myself here to proceed any further. I need to talk and discuss an essential matter. Would you please accompany me? he asked in an expressionless voice. I nodded once in agreement and followed him out. When we didnt stop at the parlor I motioned towards it and asked: Is this room not an adequate enough place to talk and discuss? Privacy is what the matter needs and thus I prefer a garden stroll, if you please as well? He asked solemnly. I shrugged in reply and we walked in silence. We reached the bench beside the pond that was, what one may call, at quite a distance from the villa now that I realized. We sat in silence and watched the sun set in the western horizon. There was warmth in the air that Id not noticed. My shroud of coldness had slipped for a while

perhaps, because as I sat there and then stared at my cousins face clouded in some deep thoughts, unpleasant ones probably considering the way his face was distorted, I couldnt help but ask: Nicholas, what is it that is disturbing you? I was careful to keep my voice at a neutral level of pure professional curiosity, with no emotion whatsoever. He just sighed, shook his head absently for a while and then gazed at me with a deep earnest in his eyes that even I couldnt deny. I have a favor to ask of you. May I Marianne? as he asked this, he looked at the pond that now reflected the pink and crimson of the sky in its ripples. That would depend on what it is. I replied in a humorless voice. Ah...yes...I guess I need to tell you somewhat... he said and then elapsed into silence again. My cousins current behavior was uncomfortable and so unlike him that I actually wished he would smile. Although he did, it didnt quite occupy his entire face. It was a bitter smile as a matter of fact. I want you to take over fathers business for me and run the errands that I would otherwise have to perform. he said. Is there any rational explanation for what you ask of me? I inquired. Nicholas got up from the bench and walked over to the edge of the pond. He stood in silence for a while and then began talking in a slow voice: Ill put it as simply as I can before you. The thing is, there is...no definite time as for when a man may die...it may be tomorrow, a month away, years and years perhaps...or even today... he paused here slightly and then continued in a detached voice (I didnt know where he was headed with this but I listened patiently nevertheless ), All I am saying is that youre a strong headed woman and would do the business and my father good and that...should I happen to pass away Dont say such a thing. Have you any idea, that what youre saying will hurt your father to what an extent? And why do you even say it in the first place? I interrupted him, and this time I couldnt keep my voice from trembling. Oh yes, the shroud of coldness had slipped for sure. Nicholas replied somberly, Marianne, I have a terrible secret to keep...it may not interest you in any way but it would do nothing but harm to my poor father. I gazed upon his face. Handsome as it was with its clear-cut, superiorly carved features. The high cheekbones, the straight nose, the ideal curvature of his lips that now formed themselves in a thin line. The straight, jet black hair, a lock of which hung over his eyes. The perfectly arched eyebrows. But the eyes they were from a different dimension altogether. The eyes were a deep shade of jade green that shone like facets of an emerald when light fell on them. Eyes that pierced right through your body as well as made you feel warm in rhythmic chorus. Keeping up my cold charade before him was no longer acceptable for me. I knew the consequences of my following act would be disastrous for me later on but regardless I got up from the bench that I was sitting on and walked up to him. I put my hand gently on his arm and asked in a soft voice, You can tell me anything you want Nicholas but only if it is what you want. He looked at me silently. There was no shine in his eyes; instead they were as melancholic as his voice when he said, What I want? There lies the problem. There is no time for me to want anything...I am out of time Marianne...out of time... I didnt know what he meant and what to say to him in return so I embraced him in consolation. I held him in a decent manner so as not to give any wrong idea. To my great astonishment and pity, yes pity, I, Marianne Desmond was feeling pity; Nicholas buried his face in

my hair. After a while, he stepped back, but held on to my waist. His eyes were red as was his flushing face. Panic arose within me as I begged him, Nicholas, please tell me what is wrong, please. I pleaded. Now is not the time to tell either you or my father, not yet at least. But do you promise to do what I asked? he said. I smiled in reassurance and then replied in an attempt to make him feel better, Yes, surely, but I hardly think Im any better at business than my dear Uncle. He smiled in response, a bright smile and said, Thank you. Thank you indeed Marianne. And he kissed my cheek as another representation of his gratitude. Somehow the gesture felt more than of gratitude...or maybe I thought so or wanted to think so? What was happening to me, O Lord...? We walked back to the villa and I retired to my bedroom. As I lay in bed, I knew that staying away from Nicholas and maintaining my coldness would prove a hard ordeal. Maybe I would let go of it altogether. Yes, I would. And so, the next few days passed in extreme pleasantness, which Id never dreamt of. There was a certain feeling of joy in playing chess with both my uncle and cousin, when I beat either of them or even was defeated. There was a strange comfort in taking walks with or talking to Nicholas and time passed by as I still decided whether or not to get used to having him as a friend. If that was what he was, it was greatly amusing to think that he was probably the only one who had surmounted the great task of penetrating my shell of iciness. But something reminded me that he hadnt accomplished it unaided, I had helped significantly too. Exactly five days after our first conversation in the evening, Nicholas and I were sitting beside the pond out of habit now, when he said out of the blue: Dont think me rude Marianne, and answer if you please, but, why the pretense? And what are you afraid of? I dont know what youre saying Nicholas. I replied, genuinely perplexed. I have been observing you since we first met and meaning to ask you this, but since we werent on healthy terms, I decided not to. Now however, I would like to do so. Can I? And you can interrupt me if you think I am being impolite. No, no, go ahead, Nicholas. You may have observed a change in your attitude, do you agree? as he asked this he looked straight into my eyes. I couldnt not look away and so I did. Do you then? he stressed. I will be honest with you. Yes, I have. You are happier, more open and expressive, am I right? he said. I thought for a moment and then realized that the answer to that question was, Yes. Well then, why do you pretend to act like you dont care for anything? That you dont feel joy, sorrow, pity? That you dont have a soft core, that indeed you are a human being? he asked tenderly in a soft voice. Tears clouded my eyes now and to my hopelessness, they overcame my resistance to let them loose. Nicholas was the first person who had accomplished the feat of making my tears flow in about seven years as far as I could remember. He wiped them away gently, and then embraced me tightly and said in an apologetic voice,

I didnt mean to make you cry Marianne. I am sorry. Please dont let tears stain your face. I moved back somewhat and then while my breath hitched and I gazed at the subtle colours of the pond, It was for the first time that I confessed my tribulations to anyone: Nicholas...I have been neglected throughout the past seventeen years...my parents...they hated still hate each other...I was left alone, ignored and so I feared...I may meet the same fate...I am weak...I cannot bear to get close to anyone...I fear I may not survive this world if I lose someone precious...And so I think staying away from feeling anything is the best solution... I ended in a sob. I looked up at him now and was puzzled to see him smiling. You silly girl. Did you not for once think of the innumerable joys one might get by being with people one loves or cares about? And when you happen to lose them, as you so dearly fear my dear Marianne, of the joys of the reminiscence of those cherished memories? he asked, still flashing his exuberant smile. I considered what he had said for about a moment when I replied slowly, I suppose I never thought of it that way... Nicholas lifted my chin, smiled and said, Well, why not begin henceforth? I smiled in answer and nodded. He then took both my hands in his and said, I have been waiting for an opportunity to do this but I guess this is probably the best time, there will be something waiting by your bedside tonight, remember to see it... As we walked back for dinner, I concluded that there was no simpler way to put it than: I was in love with Nicholas. He was the first to succeed in invading my soul, making me cry, making me feel joy and mostly, create the good times that I would cherish later on. When I returned to my bedroom after saying good night to dear Uncle and Nicholas once dinner had ended, I found a piece of parchment on my bedside. As I held it under the glow of the oil lamp and read, my frozen heart warmed and a smile of satisfaction and pride triumphed over my face (I realized smiling with true affection felt immensely pleasant as compared to the efforts required to fake a grim line): Constant as the stars above, Always know that you are loved, And my love shining in you, Will help you make your dreams come true... - Yours, Nicholas I placed the parchment under my pillow and then succumbed to a contented slumber. The next day, when I and Nicholas went for our evening walk, we confessed our love for each other in a short while as we sat by the pond, my head resting on Nicholass chest and his arms wrapped around me. I had been meaning to ask him this and so I availed the moment: Nicholas, I have been perturbed by something for a while now. What is that secret of yours? Do you suppose you could tell me now, if you want that is? Suddenly, his arms went taut around me and he embraced me, as though there wasnt enough time left. That reminded me: And what did you mean by you are out of time? He let go of me and taking my hands in either of his, kissed my palms. He then stared right into my eyes, before he spoke serenely, Marianne, I do not want to worry you but, you have the right to know... I...I am about to breathe my last breaths...I do not have much time left...

He was surely joking...It took a while to see that he meant it truly, my brows furrowed, my eyes froze wide in horror and then clouded, as tears escaped them. My body felt numb and my head pounded and throbbed immensely. Nicholas kissed my palms again, and then hanging his head low, began soberly in a hoarse voice: I have never loved anyone Marianne, never. I fell seriously ill and contracted a disease six months ago back in Brazil. My lungs havent functioned the same ever since although the doctor tried everything within his power. Alas there was no hope left for me; he said I had about seven months though. I wasnt disturbed to be honest, just astonished. But even that wore away. I decided to come here, see father at least once before I left him forever. He paused now, looking me in the eyes as his filled with tears, but they didnt spill amazingly and then he continued, But then...I met you...everything changed...I wanted more time...I wanted to live...to be with you...I knew I would be ruining your life... But then I got to know you better, and realized what you were afraid of, of losing someone dear...and believe me, over endless, sleepless nights I anguished with my better half whether or not to tell you that I am madly in love with you. If I did, it would do nothing to change your perception, but would undoubtedly act as a catalyst in strengthening it. And after we talked last evening I realized that the damage was done and was beyond repair. I had been altering you one way or another since Id come here and now, you seemed happier and...I thought Id express my love against my better judgment since it seemed you reciprocated my feelings in the same way...I am sorry Marianne. I didnt know what I should have done...I couldnt die leaving the only girl Ive ever loved unaware of my feelings for her. He stopped now, looked at me with a smile upon his face, and then after a moment continued, But I want you to be strong Marianne and I know that we can do it together. Ill always reside in your heart, within your soul and you can cherish me forever without remorse...Just, remember me... his voice wavered at the end but he still hadnt let a single tear escape his eyes. I cradled his face in my hands and as my tears fell relentlessly, I managed to part my lips and utter, Ill always remember you and you will always be with me. Whether we are together or not, I solemnly swear that we shall always be one Nicholas. Thank you, for everything, for changing me, for helping me become myself and... for loving me... I blinked the tears that had congregated in my eyes and swiped them with the back of my hands. I gathered him in a tight embrace and then let him lay his head in my lap and wrap his arms around my waist. As I fondled his hair and kissed his cheek, new resolves surfaced in me. I realized that I could be an entirely different person, a better person because Nicholas believed in me, not just me, but us. I could be soft and sympathetic instead of cold and hard. I could face the hurdles in life either with or without crying but could overcome them nonetheless. He would always be with me and I with him. And most importantly, I would always love him, not because I owed him for changing me but because, I truly and sincerely loved him and he did so as well. As I caressed his face and stared into those jade green eyes which burned into mine, I murmured. I love you Nicholas. He smiled a watery smile and then murmured back, I love you too Marianne, always... and he closed his eyes with a sigh as a smile spread over his face. My eyes fought hard against the urge to not look at his chest but they won. His chest was no longer heaving... His face was composed serenely and innocently as an infants in its slumber...I wished those eyelids would flutter open and the eyes would deluge me in their jade green ocean, but alas, they would no longer do so...I wept silently and then kissed his forehead before arousing the household.

The funeral was short. I watched silently, without lamenting however as they laid him in the grave. Someone chipped away at the gravestone; I walked over to the old man at work. What is to be carved on the tombstone sir? I asked politely. The man looked up at me and said, Sir Nikolas willd it tha you should ave decyd it Lady Maryanne. I considered for a moment before I replied. I didnt wait after the funeral but consoling my Uncle who; a brave and noble man; was in adequate control, I decided to leave for my home. That was the last time I went to visit at my Uncles, about twelve years ago. I have been living in solitude ever since, taking care of my uncles business for him even after his death three years ago and reliving his sons spirits in me. Perhaps that is the only reason I have survived this long. After Nicholas had gone, I could have easily returned to my previous coldness, but I decided that I would cope instead and keep Nicholas alive in me and feel the joys of the reminiscence of those cherished memories as he had once put it. Recovering from my reverie, I looked again at the purple sky, the clouds were thinning now and the sunlight shone free on the overgrown moss and dandelions on the gray tombstone. I stared intently at it. The sunlight had been Nicholas. The violet clouds had been me. And Nicholas had penetrated through my dark, violet clouds as the ever bright sunlight and he would shine forever indisputably. I read the engraved words in silence, smiled, placed the single red rose at the head of the gravestone and then murmuring Thank you. I walked away with a deep sense of palpable content. The gravestone; a memento of his existence; flashes before my eyes every time I think of beloved Nicholas and makes me feel he is close by, aiding me in my life...

HERE LIES

SIR NICHOLAS ABBERFORTH ROCHESTER 1842 1862

SON OF EDMUND ROCHESTER

In memory of a devout son

MEMOIR He loved me, wanted me to live and appreciate the value of living. He shall live within me as I did in him. Not even death can alter the reality he made me see. I shall love him till my dying breath and after it as well. May his soul rest in peace. - Marianne Nicholas Desmond

The End