Broken

Part Eighteen: Hum Theh Jin Ke Sahaare ( But Its All Over Now)

Saturday 2 May 2017

Raman
Noida Towers - 10 am

The discordant notes of the telephone penetrated through the hazy fugue of sleep, and Raman reached out a shaking hand to switch off his ringing phone, before sitting up heavily. He looked in bewilderment and self loathing at the empty whiskey bottle on his bedside table, clutching his head in his hands as memories of the previous day came flooding back.

Her words had reverberated in his ears as he had walked out of her cabin.

"Yes, I'm married"

"I fell in love"

"Haan, mein ne shaadi karli." (Yes, I got married)

"Mein usse apni jaan se bhi zyaada pyar karti hoon." (I love him more than life itself)

She had fallen in love. She had married someone else. And he had lost her forever. Lost what had never really been his. Except for two weeks of attraction, friendship and slow dawning enchantment, and then one night of unbelievable passion. He had not known it at the time, but those were the two most important weeks of his life. He had not known that he had found what he had been searching for all his life, until he had lost it. He had not even known that he had been searching for anything. He had been so unaware, so blind about what was missing in his life.

And even when he had acknowledged his true feelings, he had been so smug in his belief that all that he had to do was to find her, and everything would be explained. That everything would fall into place. That she would fall into his arms.

He had never for once imagined that she would not reciprocate his feelings. Had not even for an instant contemplated that she could have moved on, out of his life and out of his reach.

Well, she had, and her words, her demeanor had broken him completely. He recalled how she had looked at him steadfastly, her eyes unblinking, her face unsmiling. She had been so cold - dry eyed, emotionless, even as his own eyes had welled with tears, and even as his heart was breaking into little pieces. She had been nothing like the woman he had met in Shimla. The woman who had deciphered and uncovered the pain he had been hiding behind layers of sarcasm and indifference. The woman who had felt his torment, his pain and his sorrow, and had held him and cried with him. The woman who had gone out of her way to do things for others, who had so deeply touched his soul with her compassion. No, she had been nothing like that Ishita today.

It was true that there had been a look of shock on her face when she had finally realized that he was not married to Shagun. And perhaps there had been some regret too. But it had been too late.

He remembered that he had told her that he loved her. Had told her the biggest truth of his life. But even that had been to no avail. Even his declaration of love had not moved her. How could it? She was married. And she loved her husband. He had seen the unflinching truth in those clear honest eyes when she had told him that. She loved her husband. That had been the moment when he had realised that she was lost to him forever. That it was too late for him.

Another man had once stolen his wife, but the pain he had felt then paled into insignificance to the pain he now felt. The pain of knowing that the woman he loved was another man's wife.

He did not remember how he had managed to leave her clinic, how he had ended up back here, in his small apartment opposite his office, where he often stayed when he worked very late. It must have been Abdul's doing, he guessed. His driver must have been waiting for him at the clinic, must have brought him back here. He should be grateful to Abdul, he supposed, that he hadn't taken him home to Mayur Vihar. He was in no mood to talk to anyone, in no state to answer any questions. He knew the utter devastation in his heart was reflected in his face, and he did not want anyone's concern or inquisition. All he wanted was her, and since he could not have her, he wanted to be alone with his sorrow.