The Waves Whisper ✓

26 | no tears left

21
𓂃𓊝𓂃

"It's not surprising at all. Look at your stomach. Flat as a banyan leaf." The woman said, pointing at my belly. "No one would say you're pregnant."

"Kya hua?" (What happened?) The woman asked, seeing my state. Her eyes were dead yet so kind.

"Let me guess. A cheater husband?"

"...Boyfriend?"

"Well... All of them are the same. A disappointment. For them, women are objects to dispose of after usage." She muttered under her breath.

"No." I couldn't stand her talking ill of Apoorva.

"No... Um." I felt the heat of tears streaming down my cheeks.

"He's the reason why I haven't lost my mind yet." I said, wiping away my tears. The woman was listening quietly.

"I used to scrub floors at his home. And you know what he said to me? He said I shouldn't be doing all that. He said I should be following my dreams. I thought he was joking. But he wasn't. He valued me even when I thought I was worthless. I came to this city with him. We fell in love here."

The woman scoffed. "Good to know that men like him exist. But for people like me, it's a fantasy. Just like those princes in children's books. Surreal."

"Did." I said, swallowing a lump in my throat. A perplexed expression spread on her face.

"Did exist."

The realization hit her. She leaned backwards on the chair. "You poor thing." I failed to look into her eyes.

"What happened?"

I fell silent. The saliva in my mouth dried up like the water in wells during the summer. "He was on that navy ship that exploded." I said, my voice almost coarse like gravel.

"All the good people go to heaven. Only the cursed roam on Earth." The woman's eyes drooped.

"Is there anyone whom I should call?" She asked.

"No. I've got no one here in Bombay."

"Then who will take care of you?"

I think for a second. "I've got a sister in Calcutta."

"Why don't you ask her for help?"

"No... I don't want to be a burden."

The woman pressed her palm against my stomach. "It's not for you. For your child, you must seek help from your sister."

The weight of the realization that I was not alone hung heavy in my heart. There was a child inside me who was seeking care from a mother who was unable to provide it.

"I'll let you think about it."

The woman gave me back my baggage before she left. On top of it was Apoorva's uniform. I clutched onto it tightly and cried and cried until there were no tears left.

The next morning, I left for Calcutta. The woman helped me board the train.
"Take care." She said, as the train was about to leave. And it only crossed my mind halfway into the journey that I had even forgot to ask her name let alone say thank you. Our paths never crossed again.

I was pulled back from sleep by the murmurs of people, the sound of steel trunks banging against the floor, and the footsteps of people moving around.
I open my eyes to a board saying Howrah in three languages. Outside the railway station, I called a taxi painted yellow. The yellow taxis were abundant on the road, except for a few black ones. The taxi driver asked me something in Bangla.

"Where to?" He asked in Hindi as he saw my confused face. I told him where Neelam lived.

A faint Bengali song was playing on the radio, and the driver was bobbing his head to it. I leaned closer to the window and let the cold air hit my face.
I stared out the window. The steel railings of the Howrah Bridge towering over the city vanished into the stillness of the night as the car headed towards the city across the Hoogli River. On any other occasion, I would have enjoyed the view of Calcutta, but that night, my mind and body were frozen. Being in Calcutta did not excite me, even though I had dreamed of moving there with Ratan a thousand times in the past.

The Bengali song on the radio made way to a Hindi song, and Lata Mangeshkar's melodious voice filled the atmosphere. The fancy lights adorning some shops on the streets reminded me that it was Christmas Eve. I started to envy the people who would celebrate the next day. The world will be happy while I drown in pain. The anger crept into my head as I saw smiling faces on the streets.

It was so cold that my tears felt like ice against my skin. I wondered: What did I do wrong for an avalanche of misfortune to hit me? Was I such a bad person that I deserved everything I had gone through? Whom did I disappoint? Whom did I make angry? My stepmother? My husband? Or God? Was I such a jinxed woman that I brought bad luck to everyone that I've ever loved? My mother, father, Ratan, and Apoorva. That day, I made up my mind that I would never love someone again.

Neelam lived in a pretty good-looking neighborhood with well-built houses and so many trees and flowering plants. It was almost 8 in the evening when I reached her home after what felt like an eternity of car ride. I stood outside her house. The lights inside were on, and I could hear the whispering of people inside. I exhaled; the warmth of my breath contrasted against the cold, and the mist dispersed into the air. Neelam opened the door after my second knock on the door.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Roop? Why didn't you inform me that you're coming?"

My brother-in-law Benoy came to the front door, hearing Neelam speak. "Roopali?" He smiled and I couldn't reciprocate the smile.

"We would've come to pick you if you'd have said you were visiting." He said.

"Is everything okay?" Neelam asked, reading my face.

"No." I broke down into tears, and my legs gave away.

Neelam quickly caught me. "What happened? Is... Is it Vikram? Did he hurt you?" She said, as she worriedly stroked my hair.

"I am not well, Jiji." (Sister)

"What happened? Tell me."

"Don't send me back. Please don't send me back." I had no control over my tears. Jijosa and Jiji (brother-in-law and sister) looked at each other confused.

"First, let her inside. It's cold." Jijosa said and Neelam coaxed me inside.

"Don't send...me back... please..." I was whispering frantically, even though I was inside the house.

"We won't. You're safe here, beta." She reassured.