The Unnamable Bond (On Hold)

Prologue

He was way too late to enter into her life. She, being committed to one, was not undisciplined enough to let her heart love another. There were friends around them. Best friends around them. Lovers around them. Married couples around them. Then there were they. They, their relationship, which couldn't be defined. A bond beyond explanation was theirs. A relationship that was unnamable. Yet to the outside world, they were best friends. Bestest of friends, actually (if you can imagine a word called 'bestest'). Close friends, thick friends, friends forever, etc., Those were the names given to them. But they knew that their feelings for each other were so strong that it could never be given a proper name. Their bond was nameless, it hung somewhere between being close friends and being lovers. They could have had the life they wished, if she hadn't been committed to another young man. He fell for her quiet a number of times, unable to bear the pain of seeing her happy with someone else. But she was really happy with her so called life partner, intentionally blinding herself to his extra care and affection.

And now, as he is lying on his death bed, he can sense a mélange of pain and happiness. He had the best moments of his life a few years ago, when he was 55. Yet again, fate had showed its cruel face. He lies there, wondering whether 62 is the right age to die. He has no past ailments, but the abundant stress which he had undergone has taken a toll on his health. He has no wrinkles on his face or missing teeth. He is perfectly normal except that he has been diagnosed with severe fever and cold. As he sneezes and shivers, he thinks to himself, 'I have to die now or else I have to live another few years of painful life.' Outside his house, he can listen to the sound of a conch shell being blown. At once, he knows that she has arrived. Or rather her body has arrived. Yes, she had died a few hours ago.

He is being helped by his daughter. Holding on to her right hand, he stands up and walks out slowly. And once his eyes fall upon the white clothed body on the flower decorated bed, a splurge of excruciating pain sears through his heart. Tears stream down from his eyes as he looks on. He mutters under his breath, "I love you, Aishwarya. I love you forever." He almost whispers to himself, equally aware that his daughter might hear him. She wails like a maniac, looking at the body. She doesn't even want to name it as a mere 'body'. 'Return if possible, 62 is not the age to die,' she thinks. The next moment, she hears a thud beside her.

"Appa!" she screams, as she bends down to hold her fainted father.

"Bring some water!" someone yells from the crowd. Meanwhile, the conch shell is blown and the body makes its way to the electric crematorium.

Water is splashed on Adhitya's eyes, but he doesn't wake up.

"Appa, wake up!" screams Trisha, Adhitya's daughter, while shaking him fiercely.

"Let's take him to the hospital!" yells someone behind her.

Soon, an ambulance is called and Adhitya is placed on the stretcher. Trisha, who has been already burdened by the pain of seeing Aishwarya being taken away, cannot bear to see her father too in the same state. She buries her face in her palms as the ambulance races through the roads with the siren blaring at a high pitch.

Once Adhitya is taken inside the ICU, she calms down a bit, slumps down on a chair in the waiting area and mutters a silent prayer to herself. Though she is only 32 years old, she looks like an aged lady, with dishevelled hair and smudged mascara. The strong smell of medicines and drugs around the hospital makes her feel giddy. She hastily fishes out her mobile phone from her handbag and places a call to her husband, who, as she calculates, might have reached the crematorium by now.

"Trish! Just now reached the crematorium. Will call you back later," he speaks hurriedly through mild sobs.

"Wait a minute. Appa has fainted and now he has been admitted in Evergreen Hospital."

"What the hell!" he shrieks.

"Calm down. I am with him. Don't worry. I will take care. You carry on." She replies in a single breathe and hangs up.

As she is fidgeting with her fingers, the doctor from the ICU scurries outside with a worried look on his face. Anticipation builds up in the air for Trisha as she impatiently waits for the doctor to speak up.

"Well, are you a relative of Adhitya?" he asks, looking at her plainly, with a stony expression on his face.

"Yes, I am his daughter."

"Hmmm, what's your name?"

"Trisha."

"Well, Trisha, I am extremely sorry to say this. Your dad has passed away."

Trisha's world crumbles down as her ears register the words spoken by the doctor. She stands still with eyes transfixed on no one in particular. Her floodgates break open at that moment. The doctor, who has been used to such breakdowns, tries to pacify her, "Trisha, I know it's hard for you to digest this news. But please stop crying for now. I have something important to tell you."

Though her mind listens to the doctor's reply, she is inconsolable. Finally, after a few minutes, she calms down, rubs her face with her right palm and asks, "What did you say, doctor?"

"I was desperately trying to save Adhitya. But he had a panic attack and through short gasps of breath, he was muttering a woman's name. That was the last word from his mouth."

"And what was that?!"

"He was chanting the name 'Aishwarya' for three to four times. I don't know what he tried to convey. It's up to you to find. Okay, I have to go now. There are some formalities to be completed." Saying so, the doctor leaves Trisha alone.

Stunned by his words, Trisha mentally tries to find the reason behind her father muttering Aishwarya's name during his last moments.

'Well, it might have been due to their thick friendship which they shared throughout their lifetime,' she consoles herself.

What she doesn't know is the larger part of the story behind Aishwarya and Adhitya.

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