Is Love Enough ??

Chapter 39

This was not how she was supposed to find out.

Hell, this was not how he was supposed to tell her about one of the most painful events of his past. But her mentioning his mother and the sympathy he had heard in her voice for the woman who had failed him more times than he could remember.... had been a little too much to bear. So maybe Mrs. Khanna was not all bad or villainous, but she was responsible for so much anguish and pain. He could never absolve her of it. He just couldn't. 'But she doesn't know all of it', said a voice in his head, 'and neither does your mother', it whispered. Was he fragmented? Was something wrong with him? Of course, his mother knew, even if it was a half-told version.

"Abuse?" Kirti said. Her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. The various scenarios going through her head only scared her more. Her eyes had turned as big as saucers. Her expression reflected the horror that one word was causing her. And then as if she couldn't sit still on the bed anymore, she scrambled off it and rushed to Maan's side. "What do you mean abuse, Maan?" she asked as she stood there, next to him, her eyes searching his face as if there were hidden clues there that would tell her the truth.

Maan gave her a rueful smile and pushed hair away from her face, tucking the tendrils behind her ears gently. She looked distressed. And he could never see her like that. She was his light, the only one who loved him despite who he was or what his background was. For someone like her to feel any kind of distress due to him or for him, was just not acceptable. Not to him, it wasn't. The anger that had driven him a few minutes ago had subsided, not dissipated, but yes, it had toned down a bit for sure.

"Maybe abuse was a strong word to use," he said trying to ease her worries. All she did was shake her head at him.

"No," she told him, refusing to be lulled into feeling okay, "you wouldn't have used it if you hadn't felt as strongly about it," she said her voice imploring him to trust her with whatever he thought should be kept locked away, "you never use words lightly, Maan, and...and the way you just burst out with it, I cannot deny the truth I heard in what you said," she said anxiously, "don't shut me out, Maan please," she said looking at him.

Maan closed his eyes for a second to get a grip on all the emotions that were choking him so he could let them out. He lowered his head so he could rest his forehead against hers and took in a deep breath. Then opened his eyes and looked deeply into hers. The pad of his thumb rubbing the light shadows under her eyes, almost absently.

"I do want to tell you Kirti," he said a little unevenly, "only I hadn't wanted to just blurt it out the way I did," he said ruefully, "though it is not pretty..." and he placed a finger on her lips so she wouldn't intervene, "and maybe it will tell you why despite all the excuses she gave you, my mother cannot be absolved of everything," he said quietly. At least as quietly as he could.

He turned her around and walked her to the bed making her sit on it again. Then he took another deep breath as he took a step back. But he didn't move too far. He smiled but it never reached his eyes. In fact, if Kirti was to decide on an emotion, she would say painful.

"There never was any dirth of abuse growing up Kirti," Maan said in a voice that had no emotion attached, though Kirti did hear a faint hitch, "whether it was at the hands of Mr. Khanna or at the hands of someone else," he said and Kirti and swallowed a lump, "I bear no scars on my body but I carry scars in my mind and on my soul," he said then shook his head, "I am not great with words Kirti, I would rather be direct than build up a scene before coming to the point. But you know that," he told her in the same monotone, "Mr. Khanna had always been selfish, it took a while to figure that out but I did. Mrs. Khanna could never find the courage to stand up and do something about it, surprisingly, was something I learnt pretty early on," he said, "mental, emotional and physical abuse probably went hand in hand as far as their relationship was concerned. At least it was like that then, when I was a little boy, as probably happens when there is a clash, when one is trying to subdue the other to emerge dominant, and I did witness it all," he said and though his voice was flat and his face was a perfect mask of indifference, his eyes betrayed the pinch of those memories, "and sometimes I was caught in their conflict. The only good thing I can think of is that despite all the trouble I caused neither of them ever took the strap or the boot to me," he said and paused. Then continued. "I was a son and the heir, that was all the role I had in my father's life, I was well provided for, best schools, best clothes, best comforts and that was where Mr. Khanna thought his responsibilities and duties ended. How I turned out at the end of it all was never a concern for him, and my mother accepted all of it without a fight," he said trying to keep his thoughts in perspective, "sometimes I think there are a lot of experiences that slowly erode your beliefs, that deliver pain in slow measures so your wounds never heal, and then there is the mother of all experiences, the one that shatters everything, beliefs, hopes, possibilities in one quick stroke, like the final nail in the coffin," he said with a smile that had no humor in it, "and it changes you forever," he said with a sigh, "and that something happened when I returned home for a school break just after my sixteenth birthday," he said and paused giving Kirti a little time to come to terms with what he had said and prepare herself for what he was going to say.