Forever Yours, Vrinda

Part 2

Daksh's knuckles rapped on the sturdy mahogany door of Vrinda's room, filling the hallway with a muffled sound. His breaths shuddered with nervous anticipation, each one holding the promise of countless possibilities. The last ray of hope wavered, mirroring the flickering lamp in the extravagant doorway that boasted intricate designs, fit for a royal residence. The sight of cobwebs hanging in the corners and a layer of dust covering every surface highlighted the juxtaposition between the grandeur of the architecture and the neglect of maintenance.

"Come in."

Interrupting his reverie of thoughts, her weak voice pierced the silence. As he turned the doorknob, a creaking sound filled the air before he pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Over the years, he had visited her room countless times, but now, stepping inside, he sensed a change in the air. There was never a need for him to knock at her door or strain his eyes to see if she recognized him; their connection was always strong.

"Aunty mentioned that someone else would step in to share childhood stories. I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are." With a chapped smile, she expressed her apologies, saying, "I'm sorry about that."

A smile spread across Daksh's face, matching the kindness in her gesture. With a heavy heart, he sat down beside her bed, only to be met with her blank, icy cold stare that searched his face for recognition, causing his heart to ache even more.

"You don't have to worry, Vrinda! My name is Daksh Agarwal," he stated. There was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes when she heard his last name. "In the past, you referred to me as 'Bhai', Vrinda, but now feel free to address me however you prefer."

Her lips curved into a grateful smile. "If I used to call you "Bhai" before, I will keep calling you the same, Bhai. I might have no recollection of my past, but you have all the memories. I don't want to cause any more pain than I already am by addressing them differently than I did before. It's the least I can offer."

The remnants of the past were in a state of irreparable decay, yet the lingering presence of its essence emitted a comforting warmth. Emotion overwhelmed him as he heard Vrinda's words, and tears filled his eyes. Witnessing her compassion shining through even the darkest of times rekindled Daksh's hope that despair did not consume everything.

The joy her words brought him almost made him burst out with excitement, but he restrained himself. It would only intensify her longing for her forgotten memories and exacerbate the distance between the bonds she had tried to bury. And that was the last thing he wanted. The thought of it lingering in the air like an unpleasant scent.

"Many thanks, Vrinda. Being six years older than you, Vrinda, and having been a close friend in the past, I have vivid memories of your childhood. That is the reason why Maa felt it was suitable for me to share my memories, as they have the power to fill a larger gap."

Vrinda nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It was kind of Aunty to think of that."

"What specific knowledge are you interested in? Where should I begin?"Daksh leaned back into the chair, seeking relief for his aching spine against the cushioned backrest. "Did I cause trouble?Or did I stay quiet?"She inquired.

The desperation in her eyes mirrored the beloved Vrinda they had known, and he had to stifle a sob that threatened to escape his lips. The child-like innocence still remained, shining through.

"Vrinda, you were a combination of both.You left no chance at mischief when at home, but silent otherwise. Some people believed you were reserved. Some people thought you were arrogant because of your family's status, while others believed you were trying to make up for your mischievous behavior."

Memories of the faces of those who had contemplated those possibilities flickered in his mind, yet it was imperative to keep Vrinda in the dark. "Bhai," she whispered, her eyes filled with uncertainty, "tell me, what was the truth?" As the lightning of realization struck her, burning her in its wake, Vrinda replied, "I cannot relate to either of those emotions. But that could be because I have forgotten."

"The reality was not what it seemed."

"But Bhaiya, she does so much nautanki at home. This is not like that and that not like this. Why silent in class?" asked Vivaan.

Daksh found himself in fits of laughter as he witnessed his brother's broken English while trying to apply his learnings in real-life scenarios. Doubled over in laughter, Daksh clutched his stomach, tears streaming down his face. "Why not speak in Hindi until you become proficient in English? That way, you wouldn't kill people."

Vivaan's frustration grew as he watched his twelve-year-old brother, who acted as if he possessed all-encompassing knowledge of the world's affairs. "Bhaiyya..."

Fine, I'll tell you, I just don't want to hear that sentence repeated! Yesterday, Papa-Maa and Kaka-Kaki were discussing it. There is a type of mutism that Vrinda has." Daksh remembered his teacher's explanation when he asked about it, and he said, "I suppose it's called selective mutism."

Vrinda was the sister he had always desired, and their bond as siblings was immediate from the moment they met. It caused him great sadness that she was unable to share in their lighthearted humor, playful disputes, or humorous noises as they did in his home. Whether at school or sometimes even at her own house, she appeared as a mere shadow of the lively and joyful little girl he used to enjoy playing with.

"Silechive? Mootism?"Vivaan questioned his brother with a bewildered expression, as though he had just witnessed something otherworldly. Daksh himself had doubts about the competence and teaching skills of Vivaan's teachers.

Daksh shook his head in annoyance and corrected his brother, saying, "No, its selective mutism, not something to be said like a cow. Her condition causes her to struggle with word recall, particularly during times of stress."

Vivaan's eyebrows knitted together as he shrugged off his brother's arm. His eyes filled with resentment as he looked at his older brother, as if he were the lone warrior defying a conspiracy formed by everyone else.

"Oh, I saying the same same thing. Silecthive Myutism! Acting, acting, no problem. Lunch stealing - no problem - and other times - problem? No belief!"

Daksh let out a sigh and rolled his eyes at his brother's comment, a silent expression of his disbelief. "Just get the disease name right first, then you can decide if she's really got it," Daksh said as Vivaan kept arguing even after storming out.

He turned his back on his brother, blinded by his youth and consumed by his disdain for Vrinda, unable to grasp the reality.

"My pruninciation and idea are correct! You wrong!"

As she visualized the bond between the brothers, a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

It's hard to believe that I once experienced selective mutism. You know, I'm feeling super stressed right now, Bhai, but I don't think I'll go blank or lose my voice any minute. How and why did that happen when I was a kid? Is it because I don't feel as pressured as when I was a child?"

The memory of the doctor's words lingered in Daksh's mind, intertwining with the intense arguments that erupted after Vrinda's triumph over mutism.

"Your parents expected a lot from you, Vrinda. Of talent and of etiquette. I don't think you could handle the pressure as a young kid to master perfect manners and absorb all that advanced knowledge. Having a famous family had its drawbacks, like having to live up to really high expectations. It's possible that your voice got smothered by all that, but now that you don't feel it anymore, you don't have to put up with it."

As Vrinda processed the recent information, a sudden revelation hit her like a lightning bolt - her own family was the culprit.

"Your brother," she said out of nowhere. Auntie told me we were tight, but you're saying he didn't even believe I had selective mutism. So, how did we end up being friends, let alone best friends?" She asked, but couldn't remember her old best friend no matter how hard she tried.

"He was a total child. He eventually saw the light. You finally conquered your fear for him, which caused your speech issues."