Dastaan Jo Likhun

Ch 16. Tucking Tussles

___________ Context __________

I have used images to aid in storytelling, so please read through the texts to get the subtext and play the bgm attached when prompted to get the full experience.

Trigger warning: Post Partum Depression, Spinal injury.

Note: This chapter involves an open view into the minds of a few grey characters so please follow along and enjoy!

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Birla House

Time : 6:12 am

[Same time as prev. ch - jogging/boxing scenes]

'Men have it so easy!,' she thought as she cradled her baby in her arms.

'Unhe kya hi pata motherhood ke sacrifices ke bare me ?,' sneering as she looked down at her own. Her bane and her boon.

Her precious cub, who was the source of her relentless happiness, but also her depression [post partum]... who pushed her at the crossroads of motherhood and her career.

'Yeh choice kabhi mardo ko kyun nahi karni padti ?,' her thoughts rumbed like a violent growl that bubbling in her throat, while she softly hummed to her sleeping baby.

Her eyebags, like kohl marred her face like the grim reaper... allowing her emotions to die a painful death. 'Just like my career!,' she sneered again.

Now she couldn't do much, but only lick her wounds in solitude. No one would understand her. 

No one ever did. 

'Not even him!,' her eyes glazed over her husband, who was readying himself in front of the mirror for his morning rounds.

His wide arms and shoulders attracting her attention, even in the petty scrubs that he chose to wear under his doctor's coat.

What she wouldn't give to wear that coat across herself. The words 'Chief Attending' would shine like a badge of honor across her chest. 

Her roaring triumph.

But the silent wails of her setback... her daughter, who sought her attention again, annoyed her.

"Shhh! Nishthu... mumma yahin hai...," she said softly, as she coddled her child with the last ounce of her reserved emotions. Her face softened with affection as she observed Nishtha's soft brows scrunched up in her dream.

"Mahima... Do you need my help ?," he asked her, his concerned glance staring at his wife's exhausted figure through the mirror, while he combed his hair.

"Stay back, if that's the case... Why don't you ?," she accused softly, not raising her voice as she cradled her child while glaring at him through her periphery.

"You know I can't do that!," he sighed as he turned around and walked over to her. They had this conversation countless times already.