The blindingly bright lights brought Anahita back to that
day, three hundred plus days ago, when she learned how to live a life.
And, like most life-changing events, she never saw it
coming. One moment, the choir’s best singer, Afriel, was sentenced to vitam silencio, which meant his lovely
voice would never be heard in song ever again. In the next moment, Anahita had
raised her own voice in protest, and, in the third moment, she fell.
She took an instant to fall, an instant that could be
measured in eons. She saw Afriel’s shocked face looking down at her and then,
it became Roberto’s face. Of course, she didn’t know his name was Roberto then,
he was just a face she didn’t know but one that seemed kind and welcoming.
He would bring her home that night and she would later learn
that his shock was caused by his finding a naked girl right outside his
apartment building. And that the said girl possessed the most angelic face on
earth (Vogue opined) and the most
heavenly body (was how Elle put it)
in history.
She didn’t understand their fascination for her physical
form, since everyone looked like her “back home” (Roberto never liked it when
she said “up there”). And she couldn’t understand how they could take all these
in stride, the dealing with bodily functions every day, the human imperfections
that stained everything beautiful, and the messiness of emotions that pushed
everyone to a state of misery, in one form or the other. It very clearly
demonstrated to her why heaven was heaven and why everyone wanted to go there.
“Anahita?” Roberto said. She started, and turned her eyes
away from the light.
“Here, put this on.” Roberto guided her arms through cloth
straps and tightened the cinch around her shoulders. “It’s time, my beautiful
angel.” Roberto murmured. He kissed her and pushed her into the light.
Anahita started walking down, swiveling her hips to the beat
of the music, just the way they taught her. The lights continued to blind her
as she walked, so she could see nothing but that brightness. Gasps reached her
ears, and she could hear breath long-held slowly being released. Someone
started clapping and she stopped, surprised at the sharpness of that sound. Others
slowly started clapping and she turned around slowly, looking at the people. They
were on their feet, with smiles as bright as the lights.
It was then that she saw it. Saw herself. On the magical
wall by the stage, she saw herself, wearing what they called “lingerie”. But
what caught her attention (and the audience’s too, she was sure) were the giant
white wings on her back.
“I am forgiven.” Anahita thought. “They have given me my
wings back and now, I can go home.”
She closed her eyes, lifted her arms, and waited for the
telltale rush wind that lift angels back to heaven.
“Anahita?” she heard someone whisper. “Anahita!”
“Roberto!” she realized. “He can not come with me. ” A wave
of emotion suddenly coursed through her very being. It was warm, and tingly,
and carried with it loving memories of Roberto.
“If he can not come,” she thought, “then I can not go”. She
slowly put down her arms, opened her eyes and walked to the back of the stage,
where Roberto was waiting.
Later on, everyone agreed that she was the star of the show.
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