Unreachable Destiny- The Curse Of Your Love

Chapter-55: Mishti's Last Words.

23 years ago...

The rain poured down heavily that day as Mishti gazed out of the window with drooping tired eyes. The patter of rain against the glass is a mournful melody, a steady tune that echoes the sorrow within. Beyond the windowpane, the world is cloaked in a shroud of grey, the colours muted and dulled by the downpour. Mishti felt a sense of isolation in that hospital room as the sound of rain became her only companion. Her entire family must be celebrating her children's birth. Kuhu would be so happy, She thought. Mishti knew she was going to die, even though Abhir refused to tell her. The fact that no one dares to stay alone with her in the room already gave it away. Yesterday, she started bleeding down there, staining the bed with red blood and for the past few days, they inserted a pipe for her urine and she started using the tub for excretion. It was embarrassing and the most degrading experience of her life, to have her husband clean behind her while she could barely move her limbs. Abhir assured her that everything was going to be alright but somehow all she could hear was the faint cries from the hallways, probably of her newborn children. The babies will need milk, but Mishti is not fit to provide them milk as hers is not healthy. Mishti heard that Kuhu was reluctant to provide milk for the little boy, whose name Mishti had decided to be Aditya. With each passing day, Mishti was being pulled back into her past as she felt more and more pathetic for her life.

Interestingly, what troubles her the most about her life was not the difficult childhood that she had but it was the difficult choices she made. She was emotional and generous all her life. She pleased everyone around her. She never wanted to be like that, but somehow along the way she lost the fight in her. Now, when she thinks about her married life, she can only see regrets. The only thing she doesn't regret is falling in love with Abhir.

Now that she was in her last days, she questioned everything. What if she never entered Maheswari's house? What if she never agreed to the surrogacy? What if she let Abhir shift them out of that house? If she wasn't an adopted child would things have been better? When Kuhu was pregnant with Amish, she showed them hell at every turn. Kuhu agreed to surrogacy knowing the baby would be Abhir and Mishti's, but on every occasion and celebration, she wanted to be the centre of attention while always taunting Mishti for trying to enjoy the only way she could ever be a mother. Throughout that period Mishti had never felt like the mother of the child. They thought it was the mood swings and that things would get better but even after delivery it was always Kuhu trying to spend the most time with Amish. Mishti had felt the pain of not being a mother every second of the past five years. It was painful to the point she couldn't even grasp the fact that Amish was her son, which is why the second time Meenakshi suggested a surrogacy, she was strictly against it but to no avail as once again Meenakshi managed to force their hand.

Mishti knew at this moment that she called this upon herself when she put Kuhu above herself. She always treated Kuhu as her sister and only wished her happiness, but she had done so at the expense of her own happiness. Now she was all alone in this self-made hell. There was only one thing she feared, the baby girl Kuhu gave birth to. Kuhu named her Mridula. That girl will grow up without her mother and Mishti knows how it is to grow up without one. Mishti was still lucky to have her BadiMaa, who always set her on the right path, but Mishti no longer trusted Meenkshi or Kuhu to guide the girl in the right direction. She had seen how Ketki never had a choice in her life. What if the same happened to my daughter? Who will protect her? Mishti only held her daughter once after the delivery and hadn't seen her since because Kuhu found every excuse to refuse her to spend her last moments with her newborn kid. Mishti's eyes fell on the diary beside her and she opened it and started writing. This diary had been the only outlet for her emotions, as she jotted down her pain on the paper. Everything in her life right now was blank, like the white walls of this suffocating room, the white sofa she was facing, the white bed she lay on, the white sheet that covered her and the white paper she was writing on. All she wished was for death to come quickly and take her away, but before she goes...