Titaliya

Chapter 40

The rain was coming down in sheets, turning the clear glass of the floor-length windows into a waterfall. Anjali saw the lights of Bangalore as blurred dots from her hotel room. She had planned to take a flight as soon as arriving in Bangalore, but the sudden and heavy rain had put an end to it.

She was stuck in the city for a day or two, but she could no longer stay in Arnav's apartment. Arnav and Veda needed their space. She had interfered, intentionally or otherwise, enough for a lifetime.

Anjali sat down on the bed and browsed through the room service menu. The doctor had insisted she needed to eat and regain her energy in order to recover from the toxic medicines Shyam had given her. But her appetite was dead.

Since when had it been a lie? Had her husband marked her as an easy mark from the very beginning? She knew she trusted people too easily. Before she had accused Arnav of not trusting people enough, but it turned out her brother was better off than her. At least he had not been burned by betrayal.

She was still getting used to the absence of her mangalsutra, to her empty wrists and no vermilion at her forehead. Anjali smiled wryly, realizing she had turned herself into the image of a widow. The only difference was that as much as she was mourning, she was furious.

Her brother was the one famous for his anger, but it was something she had inherited as well. It was a curse they inherited from their mother, who in her most famous fit of rage had taken her own life.

The rain petered out into a drizzle. She had booked a flight for three days later, foolishly trusting the weather reports. It seemed the weather was taking a turn for the better, and she was stuck in Bangalore with time to kill.

* * *

For the first time in forever, she was wearing modern clothing. The pleated skirt faded from green to black at the tops of her heeled boots. She could breathe and move freely in the clothing, different from the heavy sarees and expensive jewelry she had become accustomed to. Living with her grandmother had isolated her from most young women her own age. Nani had loved seeing her in sarees, decked out like a mannequin from a bridal store each day.

"Ma'am, this really suits you!" the sales associate said. Anjali looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't look like herself, but she didn't look bad.

"Thank you," she said. "I'd like to wear this out of the store."

The street was filled with people milling about, and her leg was starting to give her trouble. It was on cold days when she felt the pain more acutely. It had been a stupid decision to walk around. Just for one day, she wanted to feel normal. Just another woman walking around the city like a tourist.

Anjali walked to the nearest park and sat on one of the benches. She had left the hotel early in the morning without eating breakfast. It wasn't just her leg that was hurting now, despite sitting down. Her entire body hurt, most of all her stomach.

Children were playing in the park with their parents, taking advantage of the pleasant weather. She had dreamed of something so wholesome. A future where broken marriages, unfaithful husbands, and lost children were all in her past.

The first dark wave of pain ripped through her like the storm of the day before, and Anjali fell. The second tore away her consciousness. The third, she never felt.

Writer's Note

Back after a while. ♥