Darkhaast

~ 11 ~

Shock washed over Aarohi. On the day after Akshu's death anniversary, he never returned home without staggered steps or droopy eyes. But his eyes were normal, slightly weary but no more than a doctor's after long hours on-call.

"Dadda!" Arya ran into his arms. She heard Maasi and Dida worrying about him when he didn't come home that night. Aarohi tried to assure Manjari that he was safe, but when Dr. Rohan told them Abhimanyu had left the hospital, Manjari's heart deflated. Her son was in his early forties, but his mother would never stop worrying.

"Abhi," Manjari sighed from the balcony, spotting her son and his baby.

He looked up and slowly blinked, 'I'm fine,' said his eyes.

"You're early," Aarohi spooked Mahi from behind.

Mahi spazzed, palms resting on the conference table before her, trying to regain composure.

"Are you okay? You look like a mess."

"Gee, thanks, Aarohi. Just what a lady wants to hear in the morning." Dr. Faiz Ahmed commented, taking his place on Mahi's right.

"I just meant, you look like you haven't slept since March."

"It's nothing," Mahi shrugged their concerns off as the rest of the department heads joined them. Abhimanyu took his spot at the head of the table.

"Based on the budget proposal, I think-"

"Ahhhh-hhaaaaaa", the sound of Mahi's chest swallowing all the air in the room, yawning, broke his concentration. She slapped her mouth, trying to hide the noise. Mahima rolled her eyes.

"Sswbaj" Mahi mumbled behind her palm.

"What?" Faiz asked.

"I'm sorry." She scrunched her face and, with her dove eyes, pleaded to Abhimanyu.

"Lets continue," Abhi directed their attention back to the presentation. She didn't think it would work, but he let her be.

As everyone exited the conference room, Mahi stood back with Aarohi and Faiz, mortified.

"Ahhhh-hhaaaaaa," Aarohi chuckled at Faiz imitation.

"Faizzzz," Mahi groaned.

"I won't do it again."

"Thank you."

"I'm sswbaj," his grin was akin to the devil's smirk as he held his ears in mock apology. Mahi swatted him like a pestering cockroach that wouldn't die.

"Dr. Mehra," Faiz straightened immediately. Abhimanyu re-entered the room with a tray of drinks from the cafeteria. 

"I'm so sorry, Dr. Abhimanyu, it won't happen again," he cut off her apology spiel by thrusting the drink in her hand. "What's this?"

"Coffee. You looked like you needed it." A crimson blush rose to her cheeks. "Aarohi and Dr. Ahmed, feel free to take one." He placed the tray on the table and left.

"What just happened?"

"I don't know," Mahi answered. Beside her, Aarohi and Faiz were flabergasted. They'd worked alongside him for the better part of their careers. Abhimanyu didn't drink coffee, let alone eat cafeteria food. He's too health-conscious. 

Did he go all this way to get the cup for Mahi? Aarohi wondered. But no, he wouldn't. Mahi's been here for seven weeks, and they've only interacted when the girls showed up or at meetings. She would notice a friendship.

"It tastes good." The hint of peppermint freshening her mouth, and the caffeine coursed through her veins. Call it the placebo effect, but Mahi felt better already.

"Hello," Mahi knocked on his office door. "Dr. Abhimanyu?"

"Come in," he didn't look up from his files, carefully annotating it with reminders for the interns to follow. "Kuch chahiya tha?"

"No, not really."

"Phir?"

"Maine kehna chahti thi ki agar aap kal raat ke baare mein awkward feel kar rahe ho ya yeh soch rahe ho ki main kisi ko baaton gi ki aap alcohol hospital leke aaye the, to aapko iss bare mein chinta karni ki koi zaroorat nahi."

His scribbles stopped. He rose from his chair and stood in front of her. Despite being the same height, there was something about him that added to his aura. His superior title, maybe? Or just his level of self-assurance.

"If you didn't like the coffee, just say so. You don't need to make excuses."

"That's not what I meant. I don't like obligatory gestures. I did abc so you do xyz to even the score. Aaj coffee dedi aur kal phir se mujhe dekha kar rah badal doge."

"It wasn't an obligation or a formality."

"Then?"

"Your voice cracked." Her brows furrowed in confusion. "When you were talking about loss and its permanence on the rooftop, your voice cracked. You dug your nails into your skin, and the marks remain."

She crossed her arms against her chest, backing away from her truth.

"Tumhari kahani kya hai, mujhe nahi pata. Magar dard dard ko pechaanta hai. Ussi dard ke rishte se coffee leke aya tha. Agar line cross hui, then it won't happen again."

Mahi wiped the steam off the mirror after her shower. It was in these moments, wet, naked, and alone, that she recognized herself most. The scars she hid behind long-sleeved kurtas, shirts under her scrubs, or jackets and sweaters came forward. White skin tissue filled the gaps between torn patches of skin. She'd picked her skin enough that it lost all its pigment.

How'd he notice? The question drove Mahi crazy.

Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought ~ Arctic Monkeys