Beyond Love: The beginning

11. Khushi's 5th birthday: A Celebration or Tragedy?

October, 2006

"Yash, please hold on!" Saanvi Sahiba's (mistress) trembling hands weighed down on her dying husband's chest. Regardless, blood streamed from a gaping wound, forcing its way to trickle past her fingers into the ceramic floor, smearing the white tiles with a deeper shade of crimson.

Suchitra gazed helplessly at the motionless man, who was inflicted with grotesque purple bruises and hideous abrasions. He lay flat on his back, with contorted limbs. A pool of blood surrounded him, dwindling Suchitra's hope for her Saheb's (master) recovery with every passing second.

But what disturbed her the most were his forlorn hazel eyes, which were gazing in her direction, unwaveringly, as if soundlessly commanding her to do the needful.

Her insides twisted with squashing unease, and she faltered a few steps back. Her fragile hands flew to her mouth, as she struggled to not puke.

"Police-ambulance-on-the way."

Her regretful voice came out muffled.

Saanvi Sahiba's face jerked sideways. Moreover, her hands didn't budge, as she attempted to the best of her ability, to stop the spurting blood.

"Go now," she snarled through bloodshot eyes.

Right then, she bit her lip, and attempted to drag in a laborious breath.

"Maasi, don't let my child see this mess," she whispered.

Suchitra could hear the scarcely controlled strained undertone in her voice. A flash of remorse threatened to consume Suchitra as an individual. She mentally rebuked herself for her incredulous foolishness.

Unable to control her haywire emotions, Suchitra hastily dropped down to her knees beside her mistress and embraced her in a bone-breaking hug. She felt Saanvi Sahiba shudder at the warm contact, and the brave front she had been exhibiting vanished for a vulnerable instant.

Suchitra's heart was broken into a million pieces with unfathomable remorse.

"I apologise," she abruptly bawled like a baby.

Saanvi Sahiba had gathered herself in a flash, as she spoke,

"I promise I will forgive you," her eyes shimmered with firm resolution, "But only if you hurry up now, and save my daughter. Will you take her responsibility?"

Suchitra glanced speechlessly at her. But she took no more than five seconds, before she nodded furiously.

At that precise moment, she made an unyielding resolve to live.

For the child who would otherwise be abandoned, or worse, killed brutally. She wiped the guilty tears with the back of her hands and scrambled to her feet. Squaring her shoulders, she replied,

"I promise."

Sahiba eyed up at her with stern determination, "You will not turn back for us. No matter what happens. You have to prioritize my five-year-old. That is the only way both of us will find peace."

The slamming noises on the wooden main door of the house startled the grieving ladies into undeniable urgency.

"GO!" Sahiba mouthed desperately.

With a final broken look at the grieving woman and dying man, Suchitra sprinted towards the wooden stairways. She swarmed up the stairs ignoring the gruesome stains of blood it showcased. The multi-coloured silk saree which was hastily pleated to her ankles, threatened to betray her, as she twice avoided a nasty fall on the blemished floor.

She paced restlessly towards the bedroom situated in the extreme corner of the floor. While she was about to dash inside, continual pounding noises on the main door drew her attention back to the gut-wrenching happenings downstairs. No sooner did the merciless smashing of the door, with an earsplitting thud, reached her ears.