River & Desert

Part 12

"Why does my sweetheart appear so dull? Your superiors have chosen you, darling. This news should bring you great joy. Instead, what you have are bags and dark circles around your eyes. You did not even finish your breakfast today," said Pushpa, tsking and shaking her head in disappointment.

Mitali observed her with a slight smile, attempting to capture her fussing and the underlying concern and affection. The thought of missing out on her mother's warmth when she needed it most sank her heart and heightened her fear.

She had a recurring dream of going back to her maternal home and being lavished with love by her mother when she got pregnant. The irony of the situation devastated her, as she had to move away from them because of her pregnancy. Her dreams jeered at her, perched above the boundaries of reality, while sadness played on her heartstrings.

She held back her tears and whispered, "Amma, I'm going to miss you."

She threw herself into her mother's arms and stifled her sobs in her bosom. The same arms that comforted her in her time of need surrounded her. She had minimal reservations about relinquishing nearly all of her possessions and relationships to obtain her mother's embrace as a source of solace.

Pushpa expressed her love by caressing her daughter's back and giving her a gentle kiss on her hair. She suppressed her own tears to give her daughter the courage she needed. She stopped her tears from flowing by reminding herself that she could hold her daughter again in a few months.

"Poor baby! A mother's love and spirit are always present with her children, even if she's not around. You will always have my blessings and love. You can call me anytime. Even if it is the midnight!"

Mitali recoiled from the hug at the sound of a car screeching to a stop. Despite her many attempts to refuse, Anurag took it upon himself to find transportation for her. Exhausted and unable to argue, she eventually complied. She couldn't bring herself to endanger the life in her belly because of her stubbornness of rejecting Anurag's assistance.

With a quivering voice, she said, "Amma, I will take your leave."

"Eat on time and take care of yourself. Please don't indulge in too many panipuris, jalebis, and similar foods just because I'm not there to monitor your health. And..."

She couldn't stop smiling after her mother gave her advices. "I recall everything you told me, Amma. I will follow whatever you said without fail. Now, shall I leave?" she asked.

In a matter-of-fact tone, Pushpa expressed her daughter would only comprehend her concern when she becomes a mother, oblivious to the impact of her words. Her words left Mitali in shock, standing still and turning around, struggling to hold back her tears by biting her lower lip.

The future looked gloomy, and the journey resembled an unending, dim tunnel. As Mitali's eyes fell upon the picture of Lord Ganesha on the wall, her tormented soul begged for relief from the agony.

She dared not to turn and meet her mother's gaze again. The expectant maiden steeled herself and didn't whisper any goodbyes to her dear mother. Without questioning why Anurag had arranged for a car instead of an auto, she walked towards the car in a daze.

Standing by the car, Anurag motioned he had packed her luggage, but there was no indication that she had understood or received the message.

Just as she was about to sit in the back seat, a voice she recognized stopped her.

"Again, Ms. Pathak? Could you please point out in the contract where it states that I must work as your driver?"

Her rationality recognized the voice. Despite her refusal, Adhrit Sinha arrived to pick her up. A sigh escaped Mitali as she glanced up at the front mirror, meeting his almost concerned eyes.

"Yesterday I clarified that I would come alone, Mr. Sinha," she reminded him. The entrepreneur could see the woman's frustration in her creased forehead and brash tone. She couldn't hide her frustration from the man she held responsible for her fate.

"You said I could not send someone to pick you up, Ms. Pathak. So instead, I came. Please take your seat," he said.

Her tired eyes and ashen features did not go unnoticed by him. He decided to ease the tension rather than mention her appearance.

To his surprise, she took the passenger seat with no more protests and fastened her seatbelt. She averted her gaze to her lap and disregarded the elderly woman, whom Adhrit assumed was her mother. When her daughter didn't look at her, Pushpa's eyebrows knotted. But she excused the disappointment by citing her nervousness as the reason for her behavior.

It struck Adhrit Sinha as odd that a woman who was willing to be a surrogate for her family didn't say goodbye to them. Adhrit's mind raced as he once again regarded her reclusive behavior. She waited for him to start while looking straight ahead and fidgeting with her fingers.

Adhrit's rationality reminded him they didn't have the bond or similar thought processes needed to share their thoughts. He had to act nonchalant and proceed if he didn't want to get tangled up with her enigmatic persona.

"She did not wave, or look back." Anurag's almost imperceptible mutter had reached his mother's ears.

"I think she got angry. When she has her own children, she will understand my nagging and change her behavior. Youth run away at the mention of marriage and children." She fought to hold back her tears and forget that it would be awhile before she could reunite with her daughter. "I don't know why," she said.

Anurag closed his eyes in despair when he understood the reason behind Mitali's silence before she left.

Adhrit flicked his wrist and the engine sprang to life, causing Mitali to regret not looking back at her mother before they crossed the block. Mitali let out a sigh of regret and leaned her chin on her palm, staring out of the window.

The grand and bewildering skyscrapers had replaced the simple homes near her residence. The luxurious mansions made her feel like she didn't belong there. Nothing would be the same anymore. She would have to change everything from her lifestyle to her environment to her choices.

All she could do was hope for small mercies from fate.