The Lucky Red Seeds

I had absolutely no idea they were called that. I have always known them as simple as 'Manjaadikkuru'. There are indeed many stories behind those tiny bright red seeds bringing you luck as I was told as a kid and there was one which I blindly believed even after I grew out of Fairy tales and Aesop stories. Since the time I was a kid, I had this ardent fascination towards these seeds that made me collect them. One of my favourite pastimes was to play 'even or odd' with my friends using the lucky red seeds.

One evening I was back home from playing and had my treasured bottle of seeds securely held tight in my hands.
"What have you got there?" Asked my cousin who had come to give her job interview in our city from my hometown and was staying with us for the night.
"Chechi, it's Manjaadikkuru" I was a little hesitant, fearing that she would ask for some. Some people as I have heard, open it and eat the yellowish gram inside it. I have tried that once too, but did not like it much. To me they were better as they were. Red and beautiful, meant to be played with. Meant to be adored.
"Oh, so you have already started collecting them to get married to your Prince charming eh?" She startled me with her question followed by a giggle and I looked at her confused and wide eyed.
"What do you mean?" It was utterly a new information for the seventh grader in me.
"Don't you know that?" She continued, "you collect 1001 of these and you get to marry the person you love."
"Really??" I blushed at that young an age for no reason.
"Yes really! Don't you trust me? Try it out for yourself" She was all smiles when she said which made me wonder if she was trying to make a fool out of me. But no, she would never do that. I was always fond of her and it was the other way round as well.

 I found myself restless and sleepless that night. I sneaked from my bed and tiptoed into the front room. It was past my bed time, yet the elders were only having their dinner. Fetching my bottle from the cupboard, I headed back towards my room. Under the blanket, with the help of a tiny flash light, I counted my seeds. there were 344. What?? Only 344? There was a long time before I could even dream about marrying the person I loved, though at that point innocence overruled any such grown-up emotions. I had to collect 657 seeds more to make it 1001. Damn!! That's a huge number. No, there might definitely have been some mistake in the counting that I did. I would count them again the next morning. Consoling my self, I slid the bottle underneath my bed.

Needless to say, counting over and over did not make 344 any closer to 1001. It remained 344. Since then I started my sincere endeavour to collect my little red seeds. I even stopped playing with it, lest I should lose any of them. They were more precious than anything else. Later that year, I spotted red dots as bright as those seeds on my white uniform skirt. It was also since then that my hormones started acting weird. I fell in love or rather infatuation for the first time ever in life. I was pretty sure that he was the one. Henceforth every lucky red seed that I collected was dedicated to him, to us... until the time we broke up after... two months!

After the heartbreak that lasted for 3-4 days, I started collecting the seeds again. It took me almost a year and a half more to finally count the seeds to 1001. My pride and joy knew no bounds. I was thrilled beyond limits over my successful triumph. The very next day I fell in love with one of the cutest looking guys in my locality of those times. I took it as a sign and was sure that he was the one for me, and it was for him that God made me waiting this long to complete my 1001 seeds assortment. I kept my treasure safe in the unreachable depths of the attic cupboard and nurtured the dreams of marrying my love in the unfathomable depths of my heart.

So many years and heartbreaks later, aged 26, when I sit reminiscing the stupidity and belief that made me collect 1001 Lucky Red Seeds in the hope of marrying my love, I am really taken aback by how time revolves to change us into completely different people.
Today, when I am finally at or beyond an age when I am supposed to get married, I hate it to the core. I have been in love, loved it, hated it, gotten hurt, had heartaches, gave and took pain, saw people, their different faces and phases. It has all developed in me, this bitter aversion towards marriage. The only good thing that makes me smile at those pretty little red seeds today is the innocence of my mind as a child, which is again, something I lost in the course of time...

P.S: This was written before I finally got married :)