Shivaay rubbed his forehead as he sat before the fireplace. He sipped on his nth cup of espresso as he sighed. The past was knocking at the door, begging for shelter, and he couldn't just deny it.
Past is painful, yet it's ours.
He had built the business. Worked hard. How could he let this get ruined? How could he put his family at stake? His family. A wave of melancholy passed through him thinking about the family, which was his.
Sitting in his small heaven, we wondered how his family was. His brothers? Who was handling their business now? Who was in charge of foreign trade? How could they not know about the debts?
Questions ran through his mind, and pain filled his heart. Setting them aside, he closed his laptop before proceeding toward their bedroom. He put the duvet on Anika before kissing her forehead. He hugged her from behind, before going into a dreamless sleep.
Shivaay and Anika. Om and Rudra. Gauri and Bhavya. There was one thing they all wanted now. Which was to emancipate themselves from this pain. Om and Rudra were dying to liberate themselves from this guilt.
The scene in Oberoi Mansion was slightly different. Gauri instructed the servants about what food they should make. The doctors had asked to make him eat easily digested, which would also give him energy. Gauri took a deep breath before advancing toward their bedroom. Their bedroom. It sounded so unfamiliar. There was no sense of belonging. There was just pain. How far did they move away from each other?
If her tears were stubborn, she was no less. Blinking a couple of times, she entered the room. Om sat on the bed. The blanket covered up his abdomen. He wore a simple T-shirt. Gauri stared at him, as he kept looking at the wall before. He had lost weight and there was this gloominess in his eyes. A floating sorrow covered his pupils which once shone with happiness.
Little was she aware, she looked no different.
She placed the tray containing the soup, medicines, and a glass of water on the bedside table. The sound of the surfaces contacting broke Om's trance. He stared at her, who was arranging the medicines. She was his wife, but could he become her husband? Today, she was here, taking care of him, but he? Was he ever there for her?
She looked pale. Her cheekbones are so visible. The bubbliness was lost, and that smile? He feared, was it dead?
We never know, who's living for us, or who's surviving for us
Om grimaced as he saw the plain chicken soup. Gauri placed the tray on her lap, and quite hesitantly offered him the spoon. Silence remained and some things remained unsaid
Rudra watched as Om had his medicines. He didn't dare to go inside the room. No courage to face his brother, who was once his secret keeper. No courage to face the brother, whom he used to play pranks on. Where had time taken them to?
Sometimes, a slight change in life changes it all.
Shivaay's absence had a great effect on the Oberoi family. How can one be without a wall, which always shielded him?
Shivaay was the shield. Warriors with a sword but no shield, have a losing battle. They see their destruction approaching, yet they could do nothing. There was no rule to leave the war field. You either fight or die.
The mansion, which they once considered home, had now become a war field. Where they fought with each other. They didn't let anyone die, they just wanted to let one another feel, some of the pain they felt. While some, just absorbed the pain, and let it slowly kill them. Such a person was Dadi.
She took it all. Bore all of it, so silently. She let the pain have its way with her. The aging woman, whose presence all except one refused to acknowledge, had no complaints. Maybe this was in her scroll. She did not have any complaints, she had had her part of happiness. She may have done a great sin, so Almighty didn't want her to have to taste death, with a smile on her face.
Her family was manacled by guilt and fettered by accusations.
She refused to blame her fate, her destiny. She declined to blame her Creator, for he had kept her happy, for a long.
She was sitting on the wooden rocking chair, lost in thought of life, and death. For she wanted death so smoothly, with none crying for her. No pain, tears, melancholy, or mourning. A death so peaceful, which would make none hesitant to embark on the journey of life.
The opening of the door made her glance in the direction of it. Gauri entered the room with a bowl of khichdi on the tray. Dadi didn't have anything except some plain khichdi. Different foods reminded her of her color-changing-eyed grandson, who never failed to amaze her with his dishes.
Gauri had managed to feign a smile. She had to, this woman, who now looked so lifeless, loved her dearly, and she did the same.
"Dadi" Gauri called upon entering her room. A small, almost unnoticeable smile made its way toward Dadi's face. How could she not smile at her? She was the one who always took care of her. Food. Medicines and everything.
Gauri placed the food before her and smiled again, before going near the wardrobe for taking her medicines out. "No cheating, Dadi. Aj sab khana khatam karna padega" (You have to finish all the food today Dadi) Gauri said faking her anger as she took to a tool to sit before Dadi.
Dadi started eating while Gauri continued to talk about what was cooked for lunch, and breakfast and what she planned on making for dinner.
Gauri had managed to mask the pain, so well, that it seemed it didn't affect her.
The facade was strong, yet old eyes read through it.
"Om Kaisa hain?" (How's Om?) Dadi. Though she hadn't seen him for more than a year now, the fact remained unchanged, she loved him.
Guari looked at the old woman before her, before smiling sadly. And that, was an authentic smile, an authentically painful one. Dadi placed a hand on her head, after placing the bowl aside.
The unsaid pain was the worst one.
Some things are left unsaid.
Some words are never uttered.
Some feelings never confessed.
Some phrases never heard.
The emotions I felt,
When I failed to read your eyes;
Feel your lips against mine;
Drown in your orbs, screaming love;
Feel your warm arms around me.
Hear those soothing words;
- were all left unsaid...
Did we bid adieu?
With a goodbye?
Well, a bye is never good.
An adieu was never pleasant.
Staring at your back, with my blurry vision,
I expected a turn, a glimpse of yours...
But walking away was easy for you.
Leaving some words to remain unsaid.
