Hello everyone! How're you all? You all must be very happy because today, on this auspicious day, two birdies, two little strawberries were born. Yep, let's wish a very very happy birthday to Red eyes of fate (Nain) and Black Ellia (Prisha)! Wish you all the best! *Bursts balloons and poppers*

So, at first, I would like to apologize to both of you that I became a bit late to post this birthday gift to you both, actually I was supposed to post it earlier this morning but after waking up, I got to receive such a shocking news which devastated my mood for a while. But...today is a very auspicious day, right? Why should I sit gloomily all the day? That's why, this is a must.

After a long time, I've written a MaxXEmily. During these days, I've written quite a few TyHils, KaiJuls and KaneSals but I couldn't find any suitable plot for MaxXEmily though I adore this pairing a lot. Finally, I've written one for them. This is kinda didactic which contains the darkness of dowry system, yet, shows us (Specially the women) light to be self-dependent. Of course, I agree that for being happy and successful in life, marriage is important for a woman but if the woman cannot get married, it doesn't mean that her life has been destroyed. So...let's read it!

Warning: Slight negative characterization of Judy Tate (Though in the end, everything becomes quite fine...untill...)

Based on: Different works of Tagore which clearly protest against dowry.

Anyways, enjoy!

"Hey! Come here, soon! These seats are empty!"

It sprang from nothing the vocal cord of a random, American young woman. Yet, I felt as if I'd been listening to any kind of music. I had been snoozing against the soft headboard of my couch in the train and getting shaken each time. With every jolt, messy dreams had been running through the synapses of my brain. Under the lights, green curtains were drawn. Amidst the sub-consciousness and green darkness, everything was looking very hazy. Only the stars in the night sky were glinting like the absolute, the perpetual truths of human life. They were quite clearer to me, yet, unable to pull me up to the world of reality.

The voice…the unknown voice…the tone which didn't have any identity to me yet did the work for me. Beauty of appearance is always trivial, always passive. What used to attract me the most was the voice of a person. It portrays the true personification of someone. That day, when I heard her first, I quickly drew off the curtains and tried to see her though I couldn't see anyone outside through the window. With the whistle of the guard, the train started moving again. Although I didn't know how she looked, I arranged a portrait of her in my heart-based only on her tone. She was like a starry sky of a lonely night, trying to coat me from every direction but I couldn't catch her.

Oh, how perfect and complete she was! Did I know her? I don't think so…whatever, let her identity be vague to me or not, her presence cast a bizarre spell on me. The train was running as the wheels were drumming on the heated pebbles but my ears were filled with the anonymous tunes, I was mesmerized. The lack of her identity, all of a sudden, became an illusion for me. What if it got torn? Would there remain any limit of recognition? Each minute, she was whispering in my ears, "Come here soon, the seats are empty." I was replying, "I'm coming, wait for me!"

That night, I couldn't have slept well though mom was sleeping very peacefully, right by my side. By fits and starts, I had been looking outside through the window, over and over. What if she'd landed meanwhile in any station? I was afraid, my baby-blue eyes were scared; scared of not having her once in front of them.

In the next morning, we were supposed to change the train in quite a larger station. Since we had the tickets of first class, we hoped that there would be no crowd or complication. Then again, when we got down, we saw that the attendants of a typical rich business tycoon were waiting with his belongings and furniture. After two or three minutes, the train arrived. We understood that we shouldn't have hoped for a first-class compartment. Where to go, we didn't know. We were rummaging through different trains and peeping through the doors, ending up discovering the same crowd everywhere.

At that time, from the second-class compartment of a train, a girl called my mom, "Come here, ma'am. A few seats are empty."

I became startled. It was the same voice, the same lyrics, the same melody. Not wasting a single moment, with mom, I quickly headed towards the compartment. I went so clumsy that I didn't have the power to lift our suitcases and bags. That girl called the porters and helped us carry our belongings. I might have left a camera in the station behind but at that time, I didn't really have the mood to take care of everything.

Then…what to say? In my heart, I got a portrait of endless, eternal, pure bliss and joy-how to start it? How to end it? Does my throat have the power? Do my fingers own the courage? No, right? Then how could these eyes be so audacious that day, so unexpectedly?

Now, I looked at the same tune in front of my eyes. She had lush, orange-hair-crossing her back, slightly wavy at the bottom. Lavender eyes were glimmering in excitement. Sandalwood her skin tone was; she was a living melody. I stared at my mom once who wasn't even blinking once. How old was that girl? Not more than 25, I could bet. Yet, youth didn't burden her body a bit. Its velocity was easy, luminosity was pure, the sacredness of her beauty couldn't be described in words. It had no inertia anywhere.

Well…her dresses? Accessories? Hairstyle? Sorry, I couldn't remember anything else. I only knew that she was something more than her surroundings and their people. She was a fully-bloomed flower in a moonlit night, glowing more brightly than everything and everyone else. She wasn't alone though; she was accompanied by two or three little girls. To them, she was talking endlessly, laughing without any barrier. She was telling them a typical fairy tale from a story book of kids. Those children might have listened to it for one thousand times-yet, their excitement and joy knew no bound. I could easily understand why they were so excited.

Her voice was like honey, like ambrosia-which could bring even a dead person to life. It had the power to turn everything into gold. Her illuminating life enlightened my heart, giving me a rebirth on that day. When the train stopped at a station, she brought some chips from the hawkers and distributed them among the girls accompanying her. She offered me some too though I refused. My mom was looking baffled a bit. She didn't know whether the girl was good or not. Without any embarrassment, the orange-haired lady was having the snacks with the children-specially in my presence. But mom couldn't say that she was a shameless woman. What a dilemma!

Meanwhile, the train stopped again in another large station. A few employees of the stoppage entered our compartment and hung a pair of tickets close to our heads, against our seats, "This chamber has already been reserved by two political leaders even before two hours, you have to leave now and search for another train."

I never liked chaos, honestly speaking. That's why, I stood up to get out of the room with mom but the girl became the obstruction, "No, we won't go out."

The employee demanded, "There's no other way."

But the girl didn't show any sign to step back. Seeing this boldness of her, the employee called the stationmaster in. He spoke, "I'm sorry, but-"

Listening to him, I already started calling the porters. But who listened to whom? The orange-haired lady showered fire at me with her lavender eyes, "You cannot leave the compartment in this way. Sit there, right back on your seat."

Turning to the stationmaster, she chewed air in her mouth, not removing her eyes from him for a moment, "It's a lie that this compartment has been reserved from previous."

Saying this, before their widened, shocked expressions, she removed the tickets from the seats and threw them out through the window. Meanwhile, the politicians were waiting near the door with the porters carrying their belongings. Listening to her and looking at her face once, they gestured at the stationmaster and had a private talk with him. We didn't know about what it was but after a long time, the train restarted, much later than the schedule. The orangette again started having her potato chips, I also became quite embarrassed and kept watching the natural beauty outside as I really had no words to utter.

The train had a break at Osaka station. The girl was ready with her belongings and children. A servant entered the compartment and started helping them.

My mom couldn't resist herself anymore. She asked the girl, "What's your name, dear?"

"Emily." She answered.

We both became shocked like being electrocuted from nowhere. Mom questioned again, "Your dad-"

"Albert Watson," Emily replied, "He's a local engineer here."

After it, everyone got down, making both of us completely speechless. Particularly I was more startled and surprised. She…she was really Emily? How could she change so much within these two years that even I myself couldn't recognize her? How on the earth was it even possible?

Flashback:

I was only 23 years old that time. Completing my graduation, I started doing job at the laboratory of my mom. I was new there but thanks to Emily, bit by bit, she taught me everything. We weren't only colleagues, but also close friends too. She used to wear lenses and thick specs, her hair was neck-length-in short, she was a nerd. Nonetheless, we had quite a good bond with each other. Always, I was the darling son of my mother and she was getting worried regarding my marriage. My friend and ex-teammate, Michael found a match for me who was none but Emily.

Since Emily had been closer to my mom since childhood, I thought that mom would agree wholeheartedly with Michael. But no, exactly the opposite thing happened here. Though Emily was pretty, brilliant and goodhearted, my family was rather attracted to wealth-or say, dowry. Emily's family wasn't that rich at all to fulfill all the demands of my parents, specially, my mother. So, we couldn't get married. I was asked by Emily's father a lot of time but each time, mom stopped me and spoke, "What would he say? Our words are final here."

Really, what could I have said? Peacefully looking at my baffled face, Emily's dad took a sharp breath and spoke those fiery words, "The people who think that I am worthless as a father, to them, I'll never give the hand of my daughter. You have said that you've brought Max up with much affection and love, right? Then how can you think that my daughter has grown up without anything? Children are children, no matter which gender they have. Then how can there be difference between the parents of a son and those of a daughter?"

We might not have the power to answer to this question but of course, we had enough pride. Smirking and uttering, "We'll see how your daughter gets married in future", we returned. But little did we know that Mr. Watson didn't have the fear that his daughter might remain unmarried in her entire life, nor did Emily herself.

But what about me? I was daydreaming about her all the time, waiting for her arrival. I'd seen her tear-glittered eyes under her specs though she'd been bending her head all the time. I heard that a few proposals came for her but she rejected all of them. I thought they all were for me. Was she stressed? Was she depressed? Did she shed tears for me? Seeing her pain, would Mr. Watson call me again?

Then, we could stand together in the alter, under the flowers, amidst songs and feathers. Holding the hands of each other, we would utter the holy wedding vows. Keeping the eyes at each other's we would pronounce, "I do." Lifting her veil, I'd slowly cup her chin and lift it up. Then…this story could have ended.

Flash forward:

But no, it didn't end yet. Disobeying everyone's orders and pleas, I came back to Osaka where Emily's father was shifted. Almost joining my hands, I pleaded in front of him. Mom also realized her faults and offered Emily to be my bride, to complete the auspicious task which could never have been completed. Though Mr. Watson's heart melted, Emily's didn't. When I asked her, she replied, "I've dedicated myself to teach Beyblading to the little girls. It has become the sole goal of my life from the day onward when I got rejected. When these girls will gain their skills and compete against boys in major tournaments bravely, that day, I'll get peace."

She was referring to her insult, I could understand. Well, she didn't have any fault in this. All the faults were mine. Now, I could realize why and how she was looking so different and confident from previous. Her face was glowing like heaven, she was a completely changed person. Now, no barrier was confining her, no shackles were restraining her. She was independent, she knew far well about her worth, she could fly in the sky expanding her wings, caring of none and nothing. Only if I had protested against my mom that day once!

But it doesn't mean that I have left all my hopes. The tune, springing from any anonymous flute, still ringing along the cadence of my heartbeats, calling me out of this world, pulling me out of the material realm. The melody, which was bearing only one lyric, "The seats are empty here", became the perpetual quote, describing my life. That time, I was 23. Now, I am 27. I didn't lose hope yet.

What are you thinking? I'm talking about the hope of my marriage? No, never in this lifetime. I can only remember that only for that night, I can still have hope in my mind…for that anonymous tune. Really, it should be. Otherwise, where will I stand? I'm with her, at the same place. Sometimes, I go to meet her and help her in her projects, being her charioteer towards her goal, on the way to her sole dream. That time, my mind keeps telling me, "Here, the seats are empty."

I couldn't get enough of her identity, maybe I will not ever. But I don't feel sad. Why? Still, here, the seats are empty.

And done! So dear readers, specially, my dear girls, what have we learnt today? Dowry is a crime, we should never approve it at any cost. Rather, we never should be tensed for marriage because it is okay if we remain unmarried. (Wait, I'm not discouraging marriage here, of course it is important). Let's be self-dependent, let's be confident, let's glow in our society-just like Emily.

Dear Nain, dear Nia-again, I'm sorry. Wait a bit, another nicer gift will be coming this evening. Till then, share it among yourselves. Once again, wishing you a many many happy returns of the day! :*

Do read and review, dear people. Pardon the grammatical and spelling errors. Take care and stay safe :D

-Misty ^_^ ^_^