We, The Unforgiving

They were born just a couple of years apart. Seraphina, aptly named, was the elder. Roxy, the rebel younger. Both were exquisite to look at, if different. Tall, with a mane of auburn hair, and brown, doe shaped eyes, Seraphina  drew envious looks from all the girls in the community. Also tall, with silky, black hair and mischievous dark eyes, Roxy, sensous and scintillating was always surrounded by boys wherever she went. Their father was one of the stalwarts of the town, a highly respected, very affluent man, an indulgent if strict dad. The mother, adored them and took great pride in them. From her three children (Her son was born much later ) tho, Roxy was the one who was the apple of her eyes.

The day her son was born was the unhappiest day of her life. For on that day, giving in to an unrelenting husband, she gave up twelve year old Roxy, to his childless elder brother. A tearful, inconsolable, bewildered Roxy went to live with her uncle and aunt, not really understanding why she had been torn apart from her sister and parents, and  had to accept her uncle as dad, aunt as mother. Her whole life hence, in spite of being loved and cared  for by the couple, she never ever called them father or mother. This was her revenge. Her own parents, she grew to have conflicting emotions of hate and love for. Her biological mother, unable to relenquish her, continued to keep the bond alive, calling her up often, reassuring her, trying to help her in anyway she could.

A tormented teen gave way to a discontented young girl. Roxy's marriage was arranged with an affluent young man. Though good looking, he was an insipid young man, too engrossed with his business to pay her much attention, a few years down the line. Seraphina, married well too. The most eligible bachelor in town, an engineer, seriously ambitious. He groomed Seraphina to be the trophy wife, he had desired. The perfect hostess, an elegant homemaker, she became almost a cult figure. The two of them together raised two sons.

Roxy bore her husband a son and for some years, became preoccupied with him, giving the child all the love that she had yearned for from her own parents. But as he grew older he grew more preoccupied with his studies and his dad's business. Older now, in her thirties, she was still very attractive. The day her son brought him home with him, she could feel him staring at her. A friend from college, he was a Tamilian. Dark and swarthy, he was young and reckless. Soon she found herself looking forward to his visits. Amused at first with his attentions, but bored with life, she went along with him. When they became serious about each other, nobody knew. All she knew was that, the only thing she looked forward to was his visits. His amorous wooing of her, his charm captivated her. All her life she had thirsted for this kind of attention. It frightened her to think of what would happen the day he left for good.

Finally the day did come. "I'm getting married," he told her. Her heart skipping a beat, she asked "Who to ?" Going down on his knees, looking deep into her eyes, he answered, "You. If you will have me."

The ensuing furor had shaken up the community. For they eloped and got married, settling in a remote town, away from anyone they knew.

Her parents as well as his disowned them, immediatly. Her siblings refused to even pick up the phone when she called. Everyone except her biological mother. The first year was idyllic. But soon enough, the enormity of their deed hit home. Used to a palatial home, and a luxurious lifestyle, she was a terrible homemaker, a bad cook. Increasing frustrations led to his taking to drink. When she tried to reason with him, he hit her, and accused her of ruining his life. But some decisions in life are irreversible, as they found out. Ostracised by the world, they had to live in the one of their own making. A dreadful mistake which they both regretted.

Then she was diagnosed with cancer. Her only succor in life came from her mother. Keeping her trysts with her daughter a secret from the rest of the family, she paid her bills and talked to her whenever she could.

Time crawled. Seraphina's son was getting married and half the country had been invited. The entire countryside where they had a grand home, was bedecked with flowers. From Africa, came the dancers, from all four sides of the country, came cooks. The entire community was abuzz with excitement, wedding planners were working overtime to fulfill the demands of their elite client.

Six days before the wedding came the news. Seraphina's father was dead. A sudden heart attack in the middle of the night had proved fatal. As the house turned from a celebratory mood to one of mourning, people poured in to offer their condolences. In the end it was agreed by all that they would have to honor his last wish, and the marriage would be held as planned. He had loved his grandson too much to have hindered his marriage.

The phone call came when she was least expecting it, so she didn't have time to plan her response. The voice at the other end was tearful, pleading, " Sister, " she said. "Please can i come for Dad's funeral ? Please. I don't have too  much time myself, and i need to make my peace with everyone. I want to see mother one last time before i..." Her voice tailed off. The reply came after a long time. "No. While he was alive he didn't ever want to see you, his  wishes have to be honored now that he is dead. Besides, no one even knows of you, and it would be too scandalous to have you over now." In her panic, she was almost brutally unguarded, the facade of the gracious socialite ripped from her. The click of the receiver as it was replaced had a heartbreaking finality to it.

"Let him who has not sinned cast the first stone, " Jesus had said. Messiahs came and died trying to reform us but we remain Unforgiving.