Shadows Of Darjeeling

Chapter 8

(Aarnav's POV)

The graveyard was quiet, too quiet, as I stood there, my gaze fixed on the cold marble in front of me. Mom. Her name was etched into the stone in delicate letters, and yet it felt so distant. She had been gone for so long now-since I was seven-but it still didn't feel real. Five months had passed since I'd allowed myself to feel anything. Five months of keeping everything in, locking it all away deep inside because it was easier that way. I was the son of a business tycoon, after all. I had responsibilities. I was supposed to be strong. But in this moment, standing here, in front of her grave, all of that crumbled.

The weight in my chest was too much, and before I could stop myself, the tears came. They weren't supposed to. I hadn't cried in months. I hadn't allowed myself to. But here, in the dark, with the quiet earth beneath me, the walls I'd built finally cracked.

I fell to my knees, my hands trembling as they reached for the cold stone. "I need you, Mom," I whispered, my voice shaky. My chest felt tight, like a knot that refused to untangle. I wanted to feel strong, like I always had. I wanted to stand tall and say everything was fine. But it wasn't. And I couldn't pretend anymore.

"I don't know what to do anymore." My words barely made it past my throat, the rawness of them like a blade scraping against my insides. For the past few months, I'd kept everything together-done what my father expected, done what was needed. But no one knew how hard it was. No one knew how much pressure I felt, how much I resented the person I had to be.

"I try so hard, Mom," I said, my voice breaking completely now. "I try to keep it together. For Dad. For everyone. But it's never enough. I'm not enough." The words came out in a rush, like a dam breaking. "And I don't know how to be the person he wants me to be. I don't know how to be anything else but... this."

I shook my head, the anger building in me. Anger at my father for making me feel like this. Anger at myself for not being able to handle it. For not being able to handle everything.

"I hate him for doing this to me," I whispered to the grave. "He doesn't see me. He doesn't care about who I am. Only who he wants me to be."

I leaned forward, my forehead resting against the stone. The tears came harder now, unstoppable. I had tried to hold them back for so long, to be strong for everyone around me. But in the end, there was nothing left but this unbearable weight.

"I miss you, Mom," I whispered through the sobs. "I wish you were here. I need you. I don't know how to keep doing this without you."

For the first time in five months, I let myself truly feel the pain of her absence. The ache that had been with me every day since she left. It was too much. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I can't do this without you."

A cold wind swept through the graveyard, carrying my words away, but I didn't care. The wind couldn't take away the pain. It couldn't take away the emptiness that gnawed at me every single day.

"I promise I'll find who did this to you," I said, my voice steadying now, the promise settling deep in my chest. "I know it wasn't an accident. Someone from Dad's side. They hated you. They killed you. I'll find them, Mom. I'll make them pay for what they did."

The tears slowed as I wiped my face, the weight of my promise settling in my heart like a cold stone. I stayed there for what felt like hours, letting the silence wrap around me, letting the grief come and go like waves crashing against the shore.

When I finally stood up, my legs felt like lead, but I couldn't stay here any longer. Not like this. I took one last look at her grave, the pain still raw in my chest, and whispered, "I love you, Mom. Always."

Then I turned away, the tears still lingering, but the promise I'd made to her echoing in my mind.

Aarnav slid into the backseat of the car, the door closing with a soft thud. The driver, ever silent, didn't ask any questions. It was as if he understood. The car pulled away from the graveyard, the city lights twinkling in the distance like a million forgotten stars.

"Take me to the hill," Aarnav said, his voice low, almost calm now.

The driver nodded, starting the engine and driving through the streets. The city seemed alive with noise, but Aarnav felt detached from it all, as if the world around him was moving too fast for him to keep up. The hill, however, was his sanctuary. It was the one place where he could escape, where the noise of his father's demands, his family's expectations, and the constant pressure could not reach him.

As the car wound its way up the mountain, the city gradually receded, replaced by the silence of the night. When they finally reached the peak, Aarnav stepped out, his gaze immediately drawn to the panoramic view before him. The city sprawled beneath him, a glittering sea of lights, yet from this height, everything felt small. Insignificant. Peaceful.

He stood there for a long time, his hands in his pockets, his back to the car, looking out over the vast expanse. The wind whipped through his hair, tugging at the edges of his shirt, but it was a comfort, a quiet presence that seemed to ease the ache in his heart.

No one came here. No one else sought solace in this place. And for that, Aarnav was grateful. He closed his eyes, allowing the cool breeze to wash over him. For the first time in months, he felt something close to peace.

"Maybe one day, I'll get the answers I need," he murmured to himself, the words carried away by the wind. "Maybe one day, things will be different."

But for now, it was enough to be here, alone, with only the sound of the wind and the weight of the night to keep him company.