Minutes
One fifty six.
One fifty seven.
One fifty eight.
One fifty nine.
Her eyes were trained to the wall clock above her. In spite of the fatigue digging in her muscles, she barely batted an eyelid as she watched the clock silently strike two. The Raizadas and Guptas had gathered to mourn for the dead unborn, but their hushes were easily overcome by the faint tick tock of the metal clock.
From the corner of her eyes she saw her husband stand stiffly against the wall, muttering soft orders to his faithful man Friday - Aman. And there was her brother in law, Akash, still slumped against the floor.
How the mighty can fall.
And how it was her fault, again.
A part of Khushi had been happy to give her sister’s hand in marriage to the Raizadas after the debacle of Payal’s wedding barely a year ago. But Khushi should have known, no love lasts long enough, no marriage lasts perfect enough.
The previous disastrous wedding burdened Payal with shame, this one with a dead baby.
And being the woman Khushi was, she knew that it was simply her fault. In an attempt to protect her husband’s sister and please the Raizada family, she had never seen when her own sister had faded away with time.
-----
Two seven.
Two eight.
Two nine.
Two ten.
Two eleven.
None of the minutes or hours mattered to her. Neither did the intravenous pierced in her vein make a difference. Raising a weak hand, Payal gently felt her still flat stomach… the one which would have swelled with her baby.
In spite of being in her hospital ward, she could hear the hush hush of the crowd before her and the soft sobs of her amma beside her. They probably were whispering their sympathies or wailing for a child they never knew.
But could anyone understand her pain?
The child that meant her entire world… perished before it could see the world. A lone tear slipped out as her fingers moved across her abdomen, trying to feel the little remnants of life in her womb. She wanted to scream, cry till her voice was hoarse.
But she could feel nothing.
Hear nothing.
Say nothing.
See nothing.
It was only the warmth of her paralysed father’s hand on hers that moved her, slightly. There he was, right next to her, with nothing but tears in his eyes. No words of comfort, no condolences and no hopes for a better future.
Just next to her, to share her pain.
And Payal couldn’t have asked anything more.
------
Two thirty one.
Two thirty two.
Every minute seemed to have hours encapsulated in them. His phone seemed blurry as tears overcame his vision.
He could have, Akash thought.
He could have done everything he had promised for. The logical fallacies of his own arguments with Payal floated before his eyes.
He could have stopped the miscarriage.
As he spotted his mother trying to console him, it pricked that she didn’t go to the woman who actually had a dead child in her womb. What could Akash feel about the child whose existence he only knew after its death?
He could have stopped the subtle domestic abuse.
Akash turned slightly to look at the hazy look on Payal’s face. His heart clenched as he saw his father in law where he should have been.
But he was too ashamed to sit next to Payal and soothe her for the wounds he gave.
Their child hadn’t died, their marriage had.
-------
Two forty three.
Arnav looked at his phone as he cut the call. Aman had been warned to keep this news under the wraps and the media miles away from Shantivan.
But now nothing more stood as an excuse for him to escape from reality.
He had done his work of being responsible and protecting his family name. He had done his work to get the families here as soon as possible. He had done his work of being the elder, protective Raizada man but now as he looked at the sickly pale figure of his wife - he knew he hadn’t done anything worth her affection or appreciation.
Arnav had been gifted to see through most of the things which didn’t include his sister or Khushi, and now that he saw Akash and Payal - he knew the days of their marriage was numbered.
He didn’t know when, where or how… but the guilt in Akash’s face and Payal stoicness shook him. There was nothing benign in Akash, nothing lovely in Payal.
Taking a few, measured steps, he walked towards Khushi. He sat next to her and held her hand, the words she said before didn’t matter to him for he deserved them all. Tightening his grip next to her, he watched in confusion as she got up and joined the rest of the Guptas walking back to their home as Payal was declared fit enough to leave with medical aid at home.
It was silently decided that Payal would stay at Shantivan for the best of her health, everyone had mutually agreed that the bigger house would provide more than the mere Gupta house.
Arnav followed Khushi quietly, her hand still in his grip as she bent to kiss Payal’s forehead and hug her tightly. His own eyes watered as Khushi was the only one Payal responded to, her weak hand cupping Khushi’s cheek.
Yet, a slight bit of annoyance flared in Arnav that apart from a few gasps from both the families on Khushi’s appearance, Shashi was the only one to have ran to his younger daughter.
Arnav looked down to feel a tugging on his wrist. He stood perplexed as his frail father in law unclasped Arnav’s fingers around Khushi’s wrist and replaced them with his own.
Fear gnawed him as Payal was wheeled into one car and Khushi went in the other, holding Shashi’s hand. Torn between driving his family home and watching Khushi go with the Gupta’s, Arnav jumped slightly as a cold hand touched his shoulder.
“Go with Khushi,” Akash whispered, in a voice that was so unlike his. Arnav looked at his brother, knowing well that he was too traumatised to drive.
“Mohan’s here, go with Khushi.” Akash repeated, his voice hoarse as their hassled driver walked close with sadness in his eyes. How the small felt the pains of the mighty.
“Aiye Akash baba.” Mohan said softly and gestured Akash to follow, pausing slightly, the ever faithful Mohan turned to Arnav and briefly smiled, letting Arnav know that he’ll safely drop the family home.
Arnav blinked back and turned to find Khushi helping her father in the car and folding his wheelchair in the trunk. Fishing out his keys, he followed suit and helped her put the metal wheelchair, silently wishing for her to look at him.
“Thank you.” Khushi whispered and walked to the front of car out of habit, hesitating as she took a step back to find a hand on her back. Arnav ushered her to her seat, waiting for her to protest but she silently slipped in the front and looked straight in his eyes as he moved forward to fasten the seatbelt.
He knew that the rest of the family was watching them, but Khushi was more important. Taking her bandaged hands into his, he pressed his lips on them and whispered “I’m sorry Khushi.”
He didn’t receive any reply.
Switching on the engine, Arnav looked at the time.
Three thirteen.
It bugged him, the thirteen bugged him but he couldn’t fathom why.
Pausing to look behind if everyone was comfortable, Arnav checked his sides and drove silently. He did things he never did before to catch her attention. From holding her hand in his to stroking the skin of her wrist as he drove, he waited for Khushi to look at him, if not speak.
They reached Gupta house sooner than expected. Arnav grasped her wrist once more, looking at her with pleading eyes when he noticed her looking at her old aunt with concern as she tried to open the trunk.
Without another word Arnav walked around and smiled briefly before he pulled out the wheelchair and set his father in law in it. Madhumati and Garima blessed Arnav quietly, their thoughts too muddled with the recent happenings with their daughters.
Just as Arnav was about to walk in, Khushi placed a palm on his chest, stopping him. “Khushi?”
“Arnavji, my family won’t be able to host you now.” She said, her voice still sweet but lifeless. Holding her hands in his, he shook his head yet almost smiled as she flustered on keeping her hand blatantly on his chest.
Tightening his grip gently on the palms on his chest, he whispered to her worried face “Don’t mind this Khushi. You have all the rights.” Khushi looked at his warm yet sad eyes and slipped her hands out from his grasp.
“And I don’t want to come if it’s a problem for your family.” He smiled softly as it appeased Khushi to a great extent. Khushi waited and allowed Arnav to gently touch her chopped strands and caress the scars on her hands and face.
Arnav hesitantly touched her, in a way of apologising to her, and cupped her cheek. “I’m so…”
“I’m sorry.” Khushi interrupted, removing his hand from her cheek.
“No Khush,” Arnav started as Khushi stepped inside her house and held the ends of the door.
His eyes widened as he realised that she didn’t want to come home with him.
“Khushi please! Please give me a chance.” He asked, frantically as he pushed against the closing door. Khushi teared up and nodded her head negatively “There’s no need for a chance.”
“Khushi what are you saying?”
“You’ll understand everything in thirteen days.”
Thirteen days?
Arnav glanced at the date on his watch.
Four A.M.
1st August.
“12th, 13th… 14th Augu,” Arnav stiffened, his blood running cold in realisation.
In thirteen days he would lose the woman he betrayed, broke, hurt and… loved.
“There was a long hard time when I kept far from me the remembrance of what I had thrown away when I was quite ignorant of its worth.”
--------
Translations :
Aiye Akash baba - Come with me, [Akash] son.
My dear readers,
I truly hope you liked this chapter. Don't shy away from sharing your views by commenting/sharing/liking/voting. You all, sensible that you are, must have noticed that there's not a prolonged stretch of anger that resonates through this tale. In fact it begins from the point when Khushi realises that the man she had grown to love - imagined to be hers was simply not hers at all.
And in other words, that fits just as well for the ignored Payal and jilted Anjali. Their men weren't theirs either.
Sincerely,
*
0 comments:
Post a Comment