Chronicles Of My Darling Husband | ✓

148. Kshama (Part 3)

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Veer leaned against the balcony railing, his stern gaze fixed directly on Jagdish.

Jagdish, on the other hand, kept his eyes stubbornly glued to the floor, a shield against the intensity radiating from his father. It wasn't that he despised his father; their relationship was simply distant. Unlike Subhadra or even Krishna, Jagdish had never sought a closer connection with Veer. Their conversations, if any, revolved around practicalities—Subhadra's studies, Krishna's hostel arrangements, the next family gathering, or buying any property.

He never ventured into Veer's professional life, nor did Veer inquire about his son's inner world. Their interactions were brokered by Yashoda, a silent acceptance of the space that existed between them. Jagdish had come to terms with it, acknowledging his father as a good man, maybe not the best but surely good, if emotionally reserved.

"Look at me, Sher," Veer commanded, startling Jagdish. Hesitantly, Jagdish lifted his gaze, meeting his father's for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Veer was a mountain of a man. Years of toil had sculpted his body into a monument of raw strength. His broad shoulders and towering frame cast a long shadow, and his intense, piercing eyes seemed to look right through a person. He carried an air of authority that demanded respect and a certain level of fear. Growing up, Jagdish had always felt dwarfed by his father's imposing stature and powerful demeanor. Veer's mere presence in a room could silence a conversation and command attention.

Krishna had inherited every ounce of his father's physique and commanding personality. Jagdish, on the other hand, took after his mother, with the notable exception of his fair skin, which he inherited from his grandmother. Whenever Veer stood straight and spoke in his deep, resonant voice, Jagdish always felt a prickle of discomfort at the back of his neck, just like now.

Veer's stern expression softened a fraction, a flicker of something almost paternal in his black eyes. "Good, that's how my boy should stand," he said, his voice gruff but the edge of command gone. "Tears are alright, Beta. Grief is a natural part of healing. But wallowing forever—that's not how my Yasho or I had imagined our Sher to be."

Jagdish blinked, surprised by the unexpected sincerity in his father's words. It was a stark contrast to their usual distant dynamic. Veer continued, his gaze unwavering. "There's a reason we call you Sher. Do you know why?"

Jagdish shook his head slightly.

"Born from the ashes of war, you were our love's unimaginable power. Your arrival filled our hearts with a strength we never knew we possessed," Veer explained, a small smile forming on his lips. "When you were born, your mother and I couldn't stop smiling. Our eyes couldn't look away from you. We finally felt complete."

"Your mother is a very determined woman. That's what swept me off my feet, you see. Ever since she was young, she knew her desires and chased them head-on. That included having you... umm... even before we were married." He paused, his gaze flickering with amusement to look over the twinkling stars in the sky. "Now, I know what you might be thinking. Maybe she was young, maybe there's some blame to go around... especially on me. But believe me, Yasho wasn't some naive stupid girl to be lured by anyone. She loved me with a fire in her heart so bright... that she wouldn't let anything, not even her family trying to harm me or even her brother who hurt me, stand in our way." A gentle chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Stubborn as hell, that's my Yasho. Not some damsel in distress, in reality, she was the one who had saved my life. She tackles life like a lioness, unafraid and determined."

"Women are inherently strong, Jagdish. They possess a gentle nature that they will show only when given the space to explore their femininity," Veer said, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "For my Yasho, it was me who provided that space for her to be herself."

He paused and looked directly at Jagdish, his eyes softening with a mix of understanding and expectation. "For Nishita, it's you."

Jagdish swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat as his father's words washed over him. Veer's voice, softer now, seemed to seep through the cracks in Jagdish's self-loathing armor.

"Your mother wasn't just strong," Veer continued, his tone laced with quiet pride. "She was unwavering. And my role was to be her rock, to create a space where she could blossom into the incredible woman she is, and let myself grow with her. That's the essence of a true partnership, Sher."

Veer closed the distance between them, his imposing stature somehow softened by a newfound vulnerability.

"Nishita needs you now. She needs your strength, your support. She needs you to be there for her, to give her the space to heal and to find her own strength again. It's not just about you being strong for her, but about creating an environment where she feels safe to be herself, to grieve, to heal, and eventually to thrive."

Jagdish's eyes glistened with tears as he grappled with his father's message. The man who had always seemed so closed off, an imposing figure, was now laying bare the heart of love, partnership, and responsibility. It was a side of his father he'd never witnessed, a glimpse into the profound bond he shared with his mother.

"Remember, my Sher," Veer continued, his voice breaking slightly with emotion, "It's okay to grieve, but don't let it consume you. Nishita needs you to be her anchor, her steady ground, and you, in turn, can find your own strength in supporting her... To be together at all the moment is what it takes for a relationship to survive. True connection requires being there, shoulder to shoulder, through life's storms and sunshine."

A fog seemed to lift from Jagdish's mind.

Veer patted his back, "Go, talk to her."

Jagdish couldn't hold back and crushed Veer in a tight hug. "Papa..."

The sudden, fervent gesture left Veer momentarily stunned, unused to such displays of affection from his eldest. Yet, a hint of something akin to recognition flickered in his eyes. Slowly, a hand, hardened by years of exertion, rose to gently cup Jagdish's head, and caress him. The touch, a mirror image of the one that had placed a tiny, whimpering Jagdish—his baby, his sole source of comfort and strength for the past twenty-nine years—in his arms, seemed to bridge the vast expanse that had separated them.

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A/N

"Zariya (cut and 30 min loop)" for this chapter. (I just can't get enough of it.)

Finally, the one moment I wanted to write for months. Veer Satyajit Singh guiding his baby through the toughest time.

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