Forever Yours, Vrinda

Part 11

Eleven Years Ago,

"Vivaan, Vrinda is having a meltdown in the green room. She is inconsolable, and she is not ready to talk to any of us," said Rupa in a disturbed manner.

As Vivaan trained with his tabla for their forthcoming performance, a grin that virtually nothing could wipe away adorned his face, but he felt his breath hitch at his throat. Vrinda's anticipation for her first stage appearance was overshadowed by the disappointment of her dear parents not being able to see her celebrate her milestone. Her father had been unaware of her training, but it didn't take him long to connect her breakdown with the same regret and yearning she had been hiding.

"I'll be there in no time, Rupa. Give her some water and try to calm her down," said Vivaan, motioning to the rest of the crew to excuse him as he ran as fast as he could.

Looking at the screen, Rupa felt her frustration rise as she saw he had disconnected the call too soon, leaving him unaware of the details about the girls-only green room. A voice inside her mind reminded her that even if he had received that piece of information, it would not have deterred him from seeking Vrinda.

She scurried over to Vrinda, who was gasping for air between sobs, disregarding her health and smudged makeup. She urgently signaled to their companion, Siya, to retrieve the water bottle from her handbag.

Relax, Vrinda! No need to do this if you don't feel like it. Should I let Madhuri Madam know?" Rupa's voice quivered as she asked the question, her hand instinctively going to her friend's back and tears beginning to well up in her eyes, but there was no relief to be found.

The sudden noise of the door being forcefully pushed open made Rupa instantly aware that Vivaan had arrived. As he emerged in her field of vision, she squinted to get a better look at him. He was puffed up and panting, his breaths heavy and labored, evidence of the frantic frenzy he had endured to descend three floors. His limbs and lungs were paying the toll of his exertion.

"Vivaan, just look at her. She isn't even responding!"

Siya placed the opened bottle in front of Vrinda to drink from after the lamenting lady's unwillingness to accept the bottle.

Vivaan's chest constricted, overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. All he could hear were Vrinda's labored pants and gasps, as if the world had fallen silent around them. As he approached her, he could see the way her eyes scanned the crowd, seemingly unaffected by the noise and commotion, except when they landed on him. She couldn't help but take notice of his desperate pleas, and he was well aware of it.

Sinking to his knees, he held onto her hands, feeling the warmth and moisture of her tears, as if they were kindling for the fire in his heart. The sight of her bloodshot eyes, tear-stained cheeks, flared nostrils, and quivering lips overwhelmed him with a sense of helplessness, causing his throat to become parched. The surroundings seemed to conspire against his self-control, making it difficult to stay focused.

"Would your dad have an issue with something that makes you happy, Vrinda? He'd do anything to make you happy, even if it means he's suffering."

The weight of her father's expectations had rendered her voiceless, so when she finally achieved a milestone in her cherished path, it felt like an act of self-punishment.

It took her years to prioritize her own ambitions over her father's desires, and now he could see the scales beginning to tilt. He could see them in the veil of matted eyelashes through which she cast a timid glance in his way. Her eyes quivered with tears, her form trembling with the weight of relentless sobs and ensuing hiccups, an obvious declaration of the inner conflict between her Self and Bhanuprakash's daughter.

"Your father won't be pleased if you sacrifice your well-being for his sake. Drink water first," said Vivaan with a certain finality in his tone, taking the bottle from Siya's hands, who forwarded it to him, and holding it closer to her lips as he supported her head with his other hand.

Gulping down water, Vrinda felt an immediate sense of relief as the liquid quenched her parched throat, easing her worries. With a few sips down, she pushed his hand away, leaving him with the realization that his attempts to get her to drink more were futile. He handed the bottle to Siya, who eagerly accepted it, and then motioned for Rupa to give them some privacy.

"You're not doing anything wrong, Vrinda." Everyone has a right to have their opinions, and to pursue their interests. This performance is your dream, Vrinda, and your father just wants you to chase after every dream, not let them slip away. Call him. You can count on it. He'll be there and he'll be super proud." Vivaan assured her that although he may be angry for a while, he will ultimately be happy that his daughter's dream came true. He gently cupped her face between his warm hands, causing her hiccoughs to subside and her sobs to cease as his comforting words resonated within her.

"I don't know, Vivaan. I don't know why Papa thinks that. I don't wanna hurt him, but I can't be tied down by these boundaries, especially after seeing how hard they made it for me to even talk. I really want him to be here, to see my dream performance, Vivaan. But won't that just crush him? I've been keeping so much from him for almost ten years."

The weight of guilt settled upon her, as she contemplated the web of lies she had woven for her unsuspecting father, leaving her consumed by a sense of foreboding. Her bowed head, his gentle caress at the back of her head, and the way his assuring touch made her frown wither away and a smile take over resurfaced through the tempestuous ocean of her thoughts.

He had placed implicit trust in his daughter, and she had exploited the trust, even relishing every time she evaded suspicion. But that day, that performance was different. The stage belonged to her, and with it came the fame and the thunderous applause. She wanted him to witness the thunderous applause she would receive, with his chest swelling with pride. How she longed to feel the warmth of his smile, radiating from the front row of the audience!

"You were still a kid when you started training, Vrinda. Parents don't know half the things their kids are hiding and they don't even care. Didn't we snatch sweets from our places, fib about hitting the books, and go see movies? We got a little scolded, but they get that we're just trying to find our happiness. We're now seventeen. There's still time. You can call your father. Your mother is aware anyway, they will come, Vrinda. Don't worry, you're not doing anything wrong if you don't want to call. You're doing what you love and that's your right."

With a weak smile, he gently fastened the ghungroo around her ankle and pleaded, "Don't deprive the stage of its Radha tonight," his touch stirring a whirlwind of emotions within her.

She decided she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain if her father joined the joyous and special occasion. The thought of his laughter and presence filled her with hope. Her love for dance had driven her to practice tirelessly, even through sleepless nights, and the thought of parting from the art she cherished was unbearable.

"Give me your phone," she demanded after a moment of thought.

"My phone? You are calling your father?" he asked, pulling the gadget out of his pocket, his smile stretching further as hope glistened in his eyes.

"Yes. I'm too tired to bring my phone and I don't want you to go, so can I use your phone?" she said with a lazy smile, making him laugh as things went back to normal.

"If you're already tired, how will you manage to dance tonight?" he asked, leaning towards her with a teasing smirk and a mischievous glint in his eyes, placing his elbows on either side of her thighs.

"Jaise Muralidhar Ki Bansuri Ke Dhun Pe Naachne Ke Liye Radha Kabhi Nahi Takhti, Waise Hi Vivaan Ke Tabla Ke Taal Pe Naachne Ke Liye Vrinda Hamesha Taiyyar Rehti Hai!" she replied, serenity taking over her as she lost herself in his eyes conveying everything she had wanted to hear.

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Translation: Just like Radha never tires of dancing on the flute tune of Krishna, Vrinda is also always eager to dance at the beats of Vivaan's tabla.