FADING DARKNESS

CHAPTER 20: A MOTHER'S TALE

I know this may shock u, but if have started reading this, I request u to at least hear me ot before you toss it away. I did promise Chand that I'd never contact any of u again,but I couldn't stop myself. The heart is a weak thing, my son, and mine is weaker'.

I was born in Madhya Pradesh. We lived there together: me, my father and my twin sister,Apsara, six minutes younger than me. Our mother died when we were very young.I was the naughty one among us, the outgoing type. My sister; well, she kept to herself, confiding only in me, preferring to play with dolls, building toy houses and all that. My father was the head of the village where he was born, and we were all afraid of him. His pride and reputation came above all else and we knew that that was something we dare not tarnish.
So, I'll come straight to where I think it all started: the reason why all of us are here today. Looking back on it as I write this to U, my Abhay, I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't been selfish, if only I had stayed back'maybe then..
Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, that day. It was the last day of the annual village fair, the day when we children were given free merry-go-round rides in the fair. In the evening, we had a dance program arranged at our house, and I was excited about that too. I wanted to return home from the fair as early as possible so that I would not miss even the start, but my sister wanted to stay back for one last ride. She asked me to wait for her, but I didn't'I was impatient to see the dance, so I told her to have a ride and I came back home. I didn't wait for her, didn't think twice about leaving her alone. And that'.well that was the most selfish mistake u'r mother made Abhay.
She changed after that day, when she returned home. She returned home quite late that day, and went straight to her room. She stopped talking, seemed scared even of me. I wondered what was wrong with her, but didn't pay much attention to it. We only realized what had happened that day a few weeks later when she apparently fell ill'.when we discovered she was pregnant.
We never found out man the responsible. And father blamed my sister for it. You know how the woman is always victimized whatever the circumstances, and in those parts of India it is even more so. Father's pride was at stake, and he chose his reputation over his daughter. He arranged for us to move to another city in Mumbai. It was a difficult decision for him to take, but he wouldn't stand any disrespect in the land of his birth. We shifted within two weeks, and my father arranged for an abortion. And I stood by quietly, not even protesting, too afraid to stand up to my fathers opinion of the fact that my little sister could be at fault. I was a coward then, Abhay, and I think I am one even now. I think all through it, my sister hoped that I would stand up for her, take her side, hold her hand. But I didn't. I let her down. I let her down so badly.
My father almost isolated her from the family after that. It was as though he didn't exist. He didn't allow her to step outside the house even. And I allowed that. I allowed her to be taken away from me without from a whimper, without a word. She would be locked up in a room all day. I did try to go to her once,but my father discovered it and he warned me to stay away from her, else he'd lock me up too. My sister cried that day, inside the room, begging to be let out, apologizing for something she had not even done, banging on the locked door, calling for my father and me especially. When my father scolded me, she begged him to let me go. She was more courageous than me, always more righteous. And yet....
That was the last day I heard her voice in a very long time. She became so quiet, so silent. It was as though she had been a mirage, a memory which started to blur in my mind. Oh, I did wish. I wished I'd run to her, hold her, I dreamed we'd play together, have fun out of confusing people about who was Haseena and who was Apsara among us. I went to father a lot of times, but something stopped me at the last moment. Always.
And so that's how I grew up-a different person from what I'd been. My change had come too late. It had cost me a sister to realize how selfish I'd been. Today all I do, for the children in my orphanage, I hope they are at least a small redemption on my part. But do you know what the worst part of this redemption is? You cannot right the wrong that made you redeem in the first place. And regret. You cannot erase that. Ever.
And so went on in my life, and she-she stayed locked up in time's prison forever. I met your father when I was in my final year in college. U know why I loved him? He made me forget, Abhay, he made me smile, he made me a little less guilty. And yet, I couldn't trust him enough. I didn't tell him about my sister, I didn't tell him all these. Trust was never deep-rooted between us, I think. Love was there. Oh, oceans of it. It drowned me in an island of bliss. Inspite of my guilt, I was happy, very happy.
The day Chand proposed marriage to me, I was very ecstatic. Father had met him and approved of him as well. I wanted Apsara to be present there for my marriage, but my father didn't allow it. That was the only time I said a few feeble words in favor of my sister, but I guess I did things too late, always. My father flatly refused to allow that and I wasn't brave enough to stand up to him for long. So I was married-amidst a dream wedding ceremony-one that my sister had always dreamed of when we were younger..when she used to arrange for her dolls' marriages. And my sister wasn't in it.
Your sister was born two years later, and u-two years later. Looking back on it now, I realize that those were the happiest times of my life, the most blessed moments. Chand met with an accident a few months after you were born, but we were still together, still happy. I still remember how we celebrated your third birthday Abhay. We all sang Happy Birthday for u and you were trying to sing with us in that little voice of yours..and we were all laughing...
My father died around two weeks later, of a massive heart attack.I knew now that Apsara was alone in the house now, only looked after by servants, and I had to look after her now. I had to tell Chand all about her, something I'd hidden from him-why, I never know. But before I could go there, She came to visit me.
It was years since she had stepped out, all those years alone had affected her mentally, combined with that nightmarish past event through which she had battled all alone. I was still the first one she wanted to see when she came out, despite all I'd done. I think she found out where I lived from the servants and she came to visit me.
Chand was away on a business trip when she came. She looked so frail..and I..I didn't know how to react when I saw her. She was so, so pleased to see me..not a bit angry. I wanted to apologize, say sorry for not waiting for her at the fair, for leaving her alone-but I couldn't-I hugged her, and we both cried. We cried together, for everything, for all the lost times, for the lost closeness that would never come back. She was delighted to find out that I was married and she was so happy to meet Alisha and you, Abhay. Specially you. You have no idea how long she held you close to her, saying that your eyes were like mine and that she couldn't wait for u to grow up.
I think it did something to her though, seeing me happily married and all that..it made her realize just how unfairly her life had been damaged-and I think she wished that she was married too, with children who would call her mother.
And that was the reason why I think..she kidnapped a little boy. I don't think she actually thought of it as kidnapping-she took him to her house, and kept him in the room she'd been locked up in. I think she tried to make him call her "mother". I discovered it the same day, a few hours later, when I went to my father's house. She had been alone for some days, the servants were on holiday.
My sister never meant to harm him, but I think she did not know how to handle him. Father's decision to isolate her all those years had damaged her in more ways than one. The boy was terrified of my sister the first time I saw him. I told her that what she was doing was wrong, but she was adamant on not letting her go. He was her son, she said. After a lot of coaxing, She agreed to let him go. I found out who the boy was a few days later when I came across his picture in a newspaper. Arjun Dobriyal, son of Arnab Dobriyal, one of the then rising business men of Mumbai. I think they later shifted to Dehradoon, I remember reading it in the papers somewhere. Anyway, the boy never said anything about this incident, at least that's what I think. Because nothing regarding the matter came up.
However, Chand was furious when he came to know everything. And I think I hurt him a lot, by not telling him the truth before. He disagreed to let Apsara into our house. "He kidnapped a young boy about Alisha's age. What's the guarantee she won't do it to my kids?" But how could I let her go? I'd failed her as a sister all those years ago, failed the one person who was a splitting image of me, the person with whom I'd shared a womb. I couldn't fail her again, I couldn't lose her again.
And, well that was where we parted ways. I promised Chand that I wouldn't come near the three of you again, if that was what he wanted. I had to either choose to be a sister or a mother and it was the hardest choice I ever made in my life, as hard as choosing between your heart and heartbeat. Do not think me as too bad, my son, there does not go by a moment when I do not wish I was there with you. I dreamed every moment that I'd watch you grow up from that little boy into the strong handsome man you are today.
I tried to heal my sister after that. I took her to many doctors, and at last came to Shimla, hoping the hills would soothe her. But her wounds were too deep, the scars too raw, the damage too great. She died a year later. In the end I think, that set her free. She was a tormented soul, unfairly shunted all her life because of the weird way of society. During those days, an old woman took me in. She was very kind to me, showing me more kindness than I deserved. She ran an orphanage and she handed its responsibility to me before she died. I still run it here, in Shimla, and the children and their love have helped me to battle the loneliness and guilt I feel, it helps me wonder less about what life would have been if some decisions could be altered. But nothing, nothing ever stops me from from thinking about you. I have followed u all through the years, keeping track of your news. Alisha's death shattered me. I still don't know how she died, or why God took away such a young life. And I'm so proud of u my son.
I don't know what u will think of me after reading. But remember this. I'll always love you Abhay. I just wish I had a chance to show it to you. But well, time is running out-and I don't know--
Stay safe my son. Do not hate your father. He's a tormented soul like me, but he's not a bad person. I just wanted this to reach you because I don't know how long I'll live. Maybe you can keep this as a confession. Or u can throw it away, if u want. U can be angry on me. Hate me. I have taken away a mother from u. I deserve it. But I've told u this in the hope that one day, u'll understand. One day. My Abhay, my son
--
Your mother Haseena.
Abhay stared at the diary for a long time after he had finished reading. The sun was rising outside, bathing the outside in a soft glow. But Abhay hardly noticed. He continued to stare for a long time at the diary, unable to think or breathe. He was aware only of a prickly burning sensation in his eyes. Only when something fell on the diary, blurring the ink of the word Haseena, did he realize what it was. Tears. His tears. He was crying.