The downfall, the beginning of the apocalypse, the epicenter of this quake -- started with this one girl, Nala, and this one guy, Noel. You’d think this story is about love. But you’d be pleasantly surprised. It’s about a lot of things. Primarily, it’s about the freedom to love. Things are much different now. Much diverse. Much more complicated.
Nala was my great-grandmother. I didn’t know her much. I was quite young when she passed. The only interaction I had with her was when I visited her a few days before her passing. She beamed at me with her little frail face. She didn’t say anything; just touched my empty right wrist and looked at my mother. I was confused, but I didn’t ask her. She scared me, lying in her bed all little and shrivelled, while my mother towered over her, healthy and plump.
My mother sat me down soon after that. “It’s a heritage I’m passing on to you, this story. My mother told me, and I’m going to tell you. It’s not a secret, sure. But, it would be better if you didn’t tell people about it. Grammy Nala was quite proud of her role in this story, but society doesn’t share that opinion.”
I didn’t understand that either, but I listened obediently. I’d always loved her stories.
Mankind is stronger than it gives itself credit for. Only 100 odd years had passed since the entire foundation of humankind had been shaken, starting with Nala and Noel, but we’d gotten up, brushed off our pants and embraced life as it was to be now.
It was the time the concept of soulmates was thrown out of the balance. People used to arrive on the planet with the names of their soulmates etched on their skins. Can you imagine that? Made things easier, I imagine. Nobody was left alone. Everyone had that destined one person for them, until eternity. People only loved their soulmates, and the world was a simpler place back then, my mother told me. People didn’t have crushes. They didn’t have puppy loves, high school romances, office affairs. No. They had the one, all-consuming, bone-crushing, forever kind of love.
The government even had a sweet system to locate your soulmate in case they weren’t in your immediate vicinity, although people were lightly bullied if they had to go looking for their soulmate using the locating system.
It all began with an itch. The name of Nala’s soulmate etched on her wrist. It itched. She scratched it absentmindedly, not paying much attention to it. It was, afterall, a mark that had come with her into this world, and was here to stay, or so she thought. She typed away on her laptop, trying to finish her presentation before her boss called her into his cabin.
Little did she know that she was different. The ‘chosen’ one, supposedly. No signs could’ve prepared her for what came next. For her whole life would come crashing down upon her. None of the pre-defined notions of her future would pan out, hereon. Her entire life would have to be designed all over again. She would get so much flak from society. She would be tagged as a witch for having started the apocalypse. She would be lonely for so long.
The tattoo itched more. She scratched it more. The last alphabet had begun peeling off. She didn’t know. Nobody thought that was even possible. Why would it be?!
Samara, her mate, called her cell to ask her out for dinner that night. Nala smiled, blushing to herself. Her mate, Her Samara, her one true love, was so considerate, so loving.
In another part of town, Noel was getting ready for his big meet with his soulmate, Mihanel. He hadn’t known Mihanel at all, till he used the government-sanctioned software to find her. The tattoo on his wrist was darker than ever that morning. He was about to meet the woman he would love forever. He was jubilant. He was ready to love. He was ready to give everything he had to that one person who would do the same for him.
Nala got done with her work early, and went to buy her Samara a vinyl record. Samara loved those. Her eyes lit up. Even as, unbeknownst to her, Samara’s name on her flesh began fading a little, hour after hour.
Dinnertime was here. At one table sat Samara, chocolates in hand, while Mihanel sat at another table, a stress ball in hand. Both awaiting their mates with bated breath. Nala entered the restaurant, and walked straight to the table, without a faltering step. Samara looked gorgeous. The look of tenderness on her face quickened Nala’s heartbeat. The tattoo itched violently. Nala rubbed her wrist along the side of her jacket and headed towards Samara.
Noel entered the restaurant minutes later. The coat check guy smiled at him warmly, and rid him of his jacket. Noel then looked around for his mate. Mihanel sat, resplendent in the soft yellow light above their table. Messy ringlets fell on her forehead, as her nose twitched away strays. Noel looked at her wrist. His name beamed off her dark skin. He smiled in pleasure.
Nala put her bag in a chair, kissed Samara on the cheek with adoration, and went back to the reception to hang her coat. While returning to her table, her eyes flowed across the room aimlessly, ultimately resting at Noel, like she couldn’t look away. Noel looked so beautiful, so nervous, so very appealing. The skin at her wrist pinched awfully, and burned her. She gasped and looked down to it. The tattoo was almost gone altogether, leaving a red rug burn of sorts.
She looked up to Samara in a panic. Samara still looked just as beautiful as the first time Nala saw her. But, she didn’t feel like walking over to her and enveloping Samara in her arms. She felt like she wanted to do that to the guy across the room now, the one who sat at a table with the gorgeous dark woman.
Almost as immediately as Nala’s wrist was left empty and painful, Noel appeared alarmed as he looked down to find his tattoo fading slowly off his wrist.
Noel looked up to Mihanel with wide eyes, muttering “Miha..?” His eyes left hers and looked around in confusion. His vision fell on Samara, and soon, an uncomfortable, yet delicious feeling began emanating from the core of his being. He felt like the girl sitting across his table was now a stranger. He didn’t feel anything holding him to Mihanel. Those strange butterflies he had felt looking at her from the entrance of the restaurant were non-existent.
Nala kept looking at Noel, confusion clouding her judgment and her actions. Soon, she saw Noel lock his eyes with Samara. As soon as Nala saw Noel look at Samara the way she was looking at him, she knew something was wrong. She felt an emotion not quite as strong as the one she felt when she looked at Samara. But, both Nala and Noel knew, in solidarity, that this emotion had the capacity to get so much stronger. So unpredictable. So different. So new. Nothing would be the same.
And it was then that Nala and Noel, together, uttered the last word they would ever say before the world came crashing down upon them.
