Darkhaast

~ 17 ~

"Tumhare bachon ne tumhe ghar se nikal diya, jo tum haar din humare ghar dastak dene aate ho?" She tried blocking his entrance.

"Mahi," her mother's stern voice sent chills down her spine while Naaz laughed.

"Don't worry about it, Aunty, main mind nahi karta," he curtsied with an angelic smirk. Mahi rolled her eyes. "Waise bhi, main isse milne todhi aata hoon. Main toh aapke aloo ke parantha ke liya aaya hoon." He swooped in and stole Mahi's seat on their dining table, breaking off a bite of the parantha topped with homemade makhan and coriander. "Yum!" He moaned. "Punjabi's se better parantha aur koi nahi banata."

"Acha ji. Toh ek kaam karo, ek punjabi dhaba hai hospital ke paas. Wahan se apna tiffin pack karwao." She swiped her plate back and sat on the counter.

"Sorry beta, jab isse bhook laghti hai toh aisi baan jaati hai." Mahi flicked her tongue out. It was a miracle Naaz didn't revert to her five-year-old self around Mahi's antics.

"I'm just glad she's back to her normal self," he whispered to Gurpreet. Mahi's wavy curls swayed slightly from the wind. Her black bodysuit was wrapped in an oversized plaid shirt, and her ripped jeans with heart stitched on added the 'Mahi' spark. "Suno, jaldi taiyaar ho jao, hume hospital bhi jaana hai."

"Main hospital nahi jaa rahe."

"Kyun, ek hafte ki sick leave shehzaadi ke liya kaafi nahi hai?" The boss in him taunted. "Tumhari sick leave katam hai."

"Issi liye toh main Bangalore jaa rahi hoon." His heart halted. Bangalore. 'That's where she used to live. Why is she going back?' His mind ran a thousand calculations per second.

"Itne confused kyun ho? The emergency case of Lieutenant General Shergill's grandson in Bangalore who fainted on vacation. You're the one that sent out the memo looking for a Ped's fellow to clear their schedule."

"I didn't think the fellow was you."

"Why not? I know the hospital; I know the case better than anyone."

"Par Mahi, mera performance Saturday ko hai." Naaz's voice broke their arguments. Her voice was so small yet carried a profound amount of anxiety. Naaz might not adopt the antics of a five-year-old, but she still craved the same love and attention. After Aarohi's party and being so vocal about her heartache, she thought her and Mahi's relationship would grow into a maternal one.

"I know, and I won't miss it, I promise." Naaz nodded half-heartedly. "I'll come home with a surprise."

A glimmer of hope flared in Naaz's heart. 'Mahi never called Udaipur home before,' she thought.

"Theek hai," Abhimanyu considered. "Ek ghaanta do mujhe aapni ticket book karne ke liya aur packing ke liya. Phir saath chalte hai."

Mahi slowly blinked, trying to figure out if she was hallucinating before hopping onto her feet. "Tumhe sach mein ghar se bahar nikal diya gaya hai, kya?"

He pursed his lips, arms at his waist like an exhausted professor. 'Please go on,' he gestured.

"Nahi, kyunki agar rehni ki jagah nahi hai, hum Udaipur mein hotel dund lenge tumhare liya. Bangalore jaane ki koi zaroorat nahi hai."

He clapped his hands slowly and dramatically. "Haha, very funny."

"Phir?"

"Dekho tum abhi itne din bimaar hui thi. Akele travel karna sahi nahi hai."

"Baat toh sahi hai," Gurpreet chimed in.

"Main bachi nahi hoon." Gurpreet, Naaz, and Abhimanyu tilted their heads in doubt like clockwork. "I lived alone for years. I take care of Ellie all by myself. If I can keep her alive, I can keep myself going too." They didn't budge. "You lived off of frozen paranthas and take-out Chinese."

Mahi rolled her eyes.

"Naraz kyun ho mujhse?" The night expanded as black angel wings, hypnotizing everyone into soft dreams as the train coursed through paths. Everyone but them. They'd argued since he pitched his company. She all but pushed him off the train. He didn't flinch.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Mahi-"

"You shouldn't be here. You don't need to be here, but you are. You are treating me like a situation that needs to be handled. A glass vase that needs to be caressed, or it'll shatter. But I'm not. I was sick, and now I'm not. It's that simple."

"It's not that simple. Would I suddenly go on a break without my kids for a week if it were simple? No. Do I like travelling in common AC2 sleeper trains over first-class seats on a luxury plane? No."

"Then why are you here?"

"I don't know." They stared into the abyss as his words hung over them. Laying on opposite bottom bunks, they refused to make eye contact.

Abhimanyu's hands trembled thinking about earlier.

"Maa, aap kyun kar rahi ho aisa?" He shouted once his kids were out of sight.

"Maine aisa kya kiya hai Abhi? Sirf sach hi toh bola." She packed away the Birla heirlooms Abhimanyu wanted to divide equally amongst his three children. "Ayra mujhe bhi pyaari hai paar iss pe uska haq nahi hai." She tried the emerald diamonds on the jewellery set. Her mother-in-law, Maa Ji, gave her these when Abhimanyu was born. It was passed onto Birla women for generations, to bahus and betis alike.

"Aap aisa kaise keh sakhti ho? Woh meri beti hai. Meri Akshu ki akhri nishaani."

"Akshara kabhi tumhari thi hi nahi Abhi." He was taken aback by the conviction in her eyes. Red, exhausted, but unrelenting.

"Maa!" He'd never raised his voice on her before. "Hum ek dusre se mohabbat karte-"

"thee. Ek waqt tha jab tum dono ek dusre se bepanaah mohabbat karte thee," Manjiri didn't want to do this but had to. She couldn't watch her child chained to painful memories forever. "Beta aur hum saba gawah thee par woh mohabbat tum dono ke beech nahi rahi. Waqt ne, galat fehmiyon ne, aur Abhinav ji ne uss mohabbat ko peeche chod diya. Jo rishta unke jaane ke baad bana woh hum sab jaante hai adhura tha. Pehla jaisa nahi tha."

"Maa," he beseeched.

"Kya woh kabhi uss din ko bul paye? Kya tum kabhi usse puri tarah se maaf kar paye Abhir ko tumse chupane ke liya?" Her questions pierced through his heart. Voices consumed his head, and memories repeatedly played like hallucinations. 'Dard ko hatayar karna, silsile tayaar karna." He'd said before their custody battle. "Chun ke saari kamiyoon ko teri peeth piche vaar karna," Akshara retorted.

Looking at where he was, on a dirty public berth in the middle of nowhere, he wondered whether he joined Mahi just to hide from those questions. To hide from his answers.

Beside him, Mahi jerked forward, panting. It happened every night. When she felt her body growing weary, her guard fell down. Quicksand emerged around her, dragging her back, and she felt like she was sinking. She grabbed the berth beneath her to steady her panting. The quiver in her hand weakened her grip.

Abhimanyu's delicate hand covered hers, the other finding the small of her back. "Breathe," he whispered in her ear. "Chalo," he brought her onto his berth and laid her down. They bearly fit on the small bunk. Nonetheless, he slung his arm around her waist, finding her twitching hand to steady and breathing in her orange and ginger body wash.

Jo zahir ho jaye, woh dard kaisa.

Jo samaj na sake, woh humdard kaisa.

"Abhi, what are we doing?" A part of her instinctively leaned into his chest. After a long time, she'd felt so secure.

"I don't know." Somehow, his pounding heart balanced her muscle hypnic twitches. It didn't heal their wounds but got them through the night.