Forget-Me-Not : Bound by Secrets

Chapter Fourteen

Too bad that no one's there to share it with, the thought conjured up on its own in her mind.

She clenched her fists and wondered what was wrong with her. She was never so restless. She was never this pessimistic, never this thoughtful and never this cranky. There was something about today that wasn't quite right.

Or maybe yesterday, she thought again, and the memory made her sigh.

This was ridiculous! If she was going to remember it for every waking hour of today, she'd hardly be able to get her work done. And there were more important, more interesting things in life to do than being hung up on a few careless words spoken by her mother. And Ananya was aware-no; she was sure of the fact that her mother hadn't lost any sleep over what happened last night. It might even be the furthest thing from her mind. But then that didn't matter, because she didn't care. She'd had enough to realize that her life was her own, her dreams were her own. She just had to keep doing the things she liked, and everything would be alright.

The argument last night hadn't been a big one-in fact, it hadn't been an argument, just a sort of... determinant. Something that defined her relationship with her parents. They'd come back home after having attended a function, and she'd been waiting up for them. She'd been reading in the hall when they came in.

"You're up," her mother had said, then sighed dramatically and took off her expensive coat. "God, I'm tired."

"Good party?" she'd asked, hardly changing her expression, looking disinterested as she'd observed them. Her father looked every bit the successful entrepreneur in his black suit, and her mother looked glamorous in her gown. Her parents-the reason she was so lucky, the reason she had the life she did.

"Yes, but exhausting. Wasn't it?" her mother had turned to look at her father, and he'd nodded while loosening his tie.

"Successful," he'd added.

They'd shared a smile, of which Ananya had been no part.

"So... are we going to talk about it?" she'd asked.

Her mother had looked at her, and then gotten up.

"I'm really tired, honey. So is your dad-we've had a full day."

"I've been waiting for you," she'd said, sounding slightly irritated though she hadn't wanted to.

"Some other time. I have an important meeting tomorrow; the magazine needs a new editor."

"What are you reading?" her dad had asked, attempting to appear interested, but Ananya could see how tired they were. She'd controlled her sigh and just shook her head.

"Nothing."

"Get some sleep," he'd said, coming over and dropping a kiss on her head. "See you tomorrow."

"You too," she'd said, a little bitterly. Her mother had already gone inside, having taken her coat, and Ananya had been left alone to frown at the empty hall.

She sighed even as she remembered it. It was something normal, she reminded herself. Her working parents didn't have time for her, and she understood. Still, if they couldn't spare a few minutes for her, then what was the use? Well, she'd stopped caring anyway. Years of experience had proven how futile it was to engage them in a conversation. And she was tired of resenting them for the same thing, over and over.

She forced herself instead to think of today's discussion with renowned Designer Sanjay Aggarwal, about the work they'd done in class, about the model she was making of a house. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how much she wanted to be a part of the successful crowd. She realized how badly she wanted, craved success and happiness. And more than anything else, she craved for someone who'd look at her and be proud of what she was doing. Sadly, she couldn't see anyone doing that yet.