Tanhaiyan | neirohi

30. alive

The dusty winds were blowing crazy. The havoc they wrecked was unmissable as she watched the leaves of the Peepal almost disappear. Gone away with the wind were those. Seconds, just seconds. That is all it took. The bells gave a faint chime. At that instant she knew. She simply knew.

It was the calm before the storm.

"Aaru! What are you doing here?"

That voice. That voice brought back the chills. Her skin broke out into a landscape of goosebumps. It was coming back. All of it.

The conversation after that was faster than it was back then. She could spot a faint silhouette of a third person, who appeared at the temple stairs. That moment, then and now brought a cold, unsettling feeling in her gut. It stayed there latent inside her all these years, branching out into hatred. She tried, tried to elevate above it. But no. She could not.

Her mother shoved the puja-thaali at her. This time she knew what was bound to happen. She tried to shove it right back, hold her mother back rather than going to help that silhouette wandering below. Forget all that, she was willing to go down herself and bring that girl up. But no matter what, she failed. She failed to get her mother to stay.

Because even as she refused to hold the thaali this time, Sirat threw it away and rushed towards Akshara. Her hands clenched the floral bedsheets, almost tearing them down. The events were yet the same. Sirat slipping and tumbling down, that girl rushing towards her mother and then her. She who lost the only person who cared about her the most.

But over the years she had come to doubt that as well. Who was there to assure her? No Goenka knew her mother better than she did, she would never trust anyone's words on Sirat loving her unless they came from Sirat herself. And even today, even now as she lunged forward to save her mother and fell down the bed. Even when she brutally hit her head on the floor and felt a searing pain across her shoulder blades. Even when it was just a single drop of tear which made its way down her cheek.

Even through all this, she only felt that one gnawing feeling. The voice from the inside battling with that latent coldness she held onto. As both clashed, her conclusion had become more clearer. Sirat loved Akshara more than she ever loved her.

However, this was not the only conclusion she got. This time, she got a new unwanted enlightenment as well. Sirat loved Akshara more than she ever loved Aarohi. Why? Because Akshara deserved it. She did not. Had her mother loved her then she wouldn't have left her like that. Never.

And she sat there on the wooden floor, just like that. Her eyes refusing to shed a single tear more.

Fifteen minutes ago, Neil's sleep was disturbed slightly cause of the constant creeking of the bed his ears were subjected to. But fear not. He could survive through an earthquake as well for his sleep. In fact, it was only the thud which startled him slightly. He did wake up but soon enough, fell back asleep. It was the incoherent muttering and whispers which he found difficult to turn a blind eye on. Sitting straight up, he leant across the bed and watched the fallen chipkali.

"Chipkali, the floor must be very comfortable right?"

The lack of response had convinced him that she had, for once, failed to find a good comeback. Which meant that Aarohi Goenka-Birla had managed to lose to him for the first time. Fortunate or unfortunate was he, to only have her back profile as his view. Had he had a glimpse of the pain trapped in those still eyes, it would've broken a part of him for sure. He was too pure to witness that kind of pain. Or so she thought.

The air, as crazy as it sounded, suddenly felt thicker. It was heavy. Some burden lingering there. One sniffle of her's and he knew that something was terribly wrong. Sitting upright, his eyes stilled on her. Was she sleeping on the floor?

"Aarohi?"

"Aarohi!" he spoke an octave higher this time.

Something was wrong.

The way she flinched slightly, the tiny sniffle, the long breath she drew, how she turned her head slightly but her face still curtained behind her curls. The hesitance she gave out as she responded with a light nod, refusing to speak.

Something was terribly wrong.

And for once, he had no idea on what to do. The silence stretched as it mingled with the tension and confusion in the air. They sat there like that. No words exchanged. Him on the edge of the bed, her down on the floor leaning against the same edge. Both of the staring at the glass window of their room. The citylights dancing on the window had more life than both of them did at that moment.

"You okay?"

She had a choice. Either she could be honest. Or she could lie. The latter had always seemed like an easier option to her. But look where it got her. She caught him staring at the glass window.

It was time for a change perhaps. Drawing in a long breath, she replied.

"Not really."

He was startled. It was not the standard response he was expecting. Scratching the back of his ear, he was confused on what to say next. Sighing, he sat behind her on the bed while she did not take any effort to lift herself from the floor even now. The silence was broken as she let out a breathy request.

"I want to go home."

"Udaipur? I'm sure we can arrange something. I'll book the tickets straightaw—"

"Home... home is where my mother is."

Those words left him worried. Did she really mean it the way he thought she did? He hoped not. That's the only thing he could do. Hope. Placing a hand of comfort on her shoulder, she still faced away from him. He gave her a light squeeze, not even realizing what he was doing. Her words left him numb.

"Talk?"

She could see herself on the window, confused. Is this what she wanted? To talk about it? A moment or two later, he mirrored her expressions. And she knew, she knew that it came naturally to him. As if on cue, she felt the hand being lifted away.

She held onto it.

She placed that hand right back where it sat. On her shoulder. Her hand held his, as their eyes locked on the reflection on the glass. She gave a nod, he gave a nod. A light smile here, a light one there. The hands remained there, on that shoulder, offering her all the assurance of the world.

"One day."

The clock changed from 02:59 to 03.00.

And their eyes matched up the liveliness of the citylights, swaying together on the silent song against the glass pane. To feel alive, once again.

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