Darkhaast

~ 15 ~

Italics = Flashback.

Ask a chef how often they've mistaken salt for sugar, and they'll tell you they've lost count. When you take things for how they look, you can't distinguish facades from reality.

In many ways, the Birla-Goenka clan seemed like an idyllic family. Arya and Roohi harmonized on Apno ka Saaya as they spun circles around Aarohi. Abhir brought out his latest baking masterpiece, a two-tier vintage light pink heart cake with white accents. 'You did it!" written on top of rose icing.

"Woah!" Mahi and Abhimanyu cheered from the sides. The celebratory ambience was infectious except for Naaz. She stood beside Gurpreet, lips curved upwards, but the smile was stiff and forced. In crowds like these, Naaz's fears crept up on her, taunting her that this tiny little unit of hers was not enough to call family. Mahi left Abhimanyu to wrap her arms around Naaz, resting her head on her niece's. "Hum kaafi hai," Gurpreet always said to her. But it always felt hollow when she thought of Mahi's ambition. 

"Thank you for being my Matashree!" Roohi fed Aarohi a bite of cake before wrapping her in a gushing hug.

"Thank you for being our Maa jaisi Maasi," Arya and Abhir joined. A lone tear escaped Abhir, and Aarohi held his hands and Arya's, dropping a quick kiss. "Thank you!"

Abhimanyu thought back to those distraught arguments with Manjari - her insisting he needed to marry to give his children a mother's love.

"They have a mother's love, Maa. Akshu ka pyaar unhe hamesha yaad rahega aur hamesha unke saath rahega." He insisted.

"Par Akshu ab nahi hai." Manjari exasperated hand gestures flew all over the place. The argument and the fact they've had it several times without a resolution was getting to her.

"Ye baat mujhse better koi nahi jaanta Maa." He fell to the couch behind him. It is a fact that his wife passed away, but in moments like these, saying it out loud hit him harder. Like an abominable truth he carries over his head, and sometimes, it comes crashing down.

"Abhi," Manjari consoled her child, rubbing circles around his back. "They need someone."

"They have someone, Maa. They have Badi Mumma to shower them with love and jam. They have Aarohi, their Maa jaisi Maasi who shoulders their every emotion like she does Roohi."

It stung to hear him omit Manjari's name. She knew why he did it, though. Manjari was an amazing Dida to Abhir and Roohi. Like Neil, Arya swarmed her way into Manjari's heart, but Manjari's loyalty, her bias, remained with Abhir. It didn't make sense because Abhir cherished Arya like his child and wanted everyone to do the same. Nonetheless, a part of Manjari distanced herself from Arya.

Watching Mahi and Gurpreet interact with Naaz, he saw a family like his own. He saw two powerful women compensating for Naaz's parents- no, cherishing Naaz like her parents.

"Naaz, tum theek toh ho?" Mahi found Naaz going through old family videos at 4 in the morning. Her face was tear-strained, and her nose as red as Rudolph's.

"Hmm."

"Really? Cause you look irate."

Naaz didn't spare Mahi a glance. Rather, she stared intently at the TV, watching Mahi and Mannat, her Mumma, gidda (traditional Punjabi folk dance) with a young Naaz on latthay di chaadar at a wedding.

Mahi waited in the kitchen, fiddling with Maggi noodles on the stove. 'Somethings up', her gut said.

"How can you love me so much and still leave me alone?" The question startled Mahi. She knew it would come eventually. "Look, at Chachu's wedding, you wouldn't let me out of your site, telling Mumma I'm your daughter more than hers. Yet, when Mumma died, you barely came to visit me."

"Naaz, I-"

"No, let me finish. Why do Abhir and Arya get a Maa jaisi Maasi and I just get a Maasi? An amusing aunt who settled her world away from ours, not one who moved mountains to keep us close. It's not fair." Naaz's chest heaved with anger. She tried to brush the tears aside. As a young lady, she knew the world would quickly invalidate her tears as hysteria, not consider it a reaction to injustice. "Kya Udaipur mein aapke residency aur fellowship ke liya programs nahi thee? Ya tumhari zaat aur sapne hum sab se dur bhaagna tha?"

"It's not that, Naaz. Bangalore mein-" Mahi couldn't finish her thought. She knew it wasn't the time nor the place.  

Naaz pushed Mahi's attempts to come closer away. But when Naaz fell to the floor crying, Mahi swooped in and enveloped her in a hug. "I'm sorry," Mahi pleaded and again. Their relationship was always atypical; titles like aunt-and-neice were seldom used in their dialogue. Onlookers thought it embodied their proximity such that titles stood no relevance. But, when you look closer, it was the lack of guidance from an aunt that abolished the title.

"I miss Mumma; I want her back." Naaz wailed.

"I do, too."

Little did they know Mahi and Abhimanyu placed one another on a pedestal no one could hold. Mahi saw his family as blissful and ideal. Abhimanyu perceived Mahi as an angel, battling her scars while not letting anyone down. All that goes to show is don't trust everything you see, for salt looks like sugar without the sweetness, and broken people look complete when you don't know them well enough. 

I never said Mahi was perfect and she isn't. One of the songs I thought of when I pictured her was Mein, and Kabira, but more so Mein. As the story goes along, it'll make more sense (I hope). But she's still a good person.