Caution : This chapter reveals a whole lot of things, read with caution 😝
They say “time heals”, but even now I know that’s a lie. What people really mean is that eventually you’ll get used to the pain. You’ll forget who you were without it; you’ll forget what you looked like without your scars.
— Claudia Gray, A Thousand Pieces of You
The sky was beautiful, Nandini noticed, the colours mixing with each other as the sun prepared to bid adieu for the day, but truth be told, nothing really registered inside her mind. She continued to sit on that raised platform, staring at the sky, lost.
If someone was to shake her and ask her, how long she had been sitting on the terrace of their own hospital, she wouldn't know.
How had she managed to reach this place, or get it opened, she didn't remember.
Her patients, rounds, roasters, duties - she was completely clueless. Nobody had called her and she had assumed nothing that needed her urgent attention had come up so far.
It was almost afternoon when she had seen that message in her phone and now it was nearly dusk and she didn't know where did the hours in between go by. She felt like she was caught in time lapse, everything and everyone was moving around her and she was frozen.
But to be honest, that wasn't what what had shaken her. It was the fact that she was actually being blind and someone else had to shock her so bad for realizing that she was being blind.
Nandini squeezed her eyes shut at that thought, and held her head in her hands. What in the world was happening?
She fished her phone out and opened the chat, Manik's text box showed he had indeed read her "Hi" but hadn't bothered replying. It angered her, itched her and hurt her all at the same time. She felt a hundred emotions together, and just feeling them was a draining experience, and that brought her another important realization.
This - whatever she was doing here, her motive, and what she was building with Manik - irrespective of the knowledge if it was being build on a true or false notion - both of these couldn't go on simultaneously. It was getting too much to handle.
As soon as her problem segregated into clear layers in her mind, she could see a solution too. Taking a deep breath, Nandini stood up and began walking towards the exit.
Manik Malhotra was about to have an interesting evening, Nandini smirked to herself as she called for a cab, unknown to the fact that he had had a pretty interesting day already.
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If there was a competition for having maximum shit days in one year, Manik Malhotra would definitely be one of the top three contenders, or at least so he thought. Gulping in his third coffee for the day, Manik stood in his balcony and stared at the beautiful view his penthouse offered from that height. The cloudy weather was only adding to the calmness in his surroundings, even though inside him was a world of chaos.
He had had a rough night with that haunting nightmare coming back after months and had hardly managed a get a few hours of sleep post 5 am in the morning when the consistent ringing of his cell phone had forced him out of his drugged sleep. And as annoying as that was, he couldn't complain because his dear sister had only called him twenty two times until he picked up to warn him about their father's arrival to Delhi.
Later, he also found a text from Dr. Malik waiting for him, to let him know about the same.
And another text that he did open, but didn't reply because last night, in all honesty, was a mistake, he would happily accept that.
That thought annoyed him more than he already was, at 2 in the afternoon. Placing his mug on the wooden center table placed in his balcony, Manik walked inside, and sat down on the bed, trying to push all the thoughts away.
Nandini was quickly becoming a noose around his neck, and he was absolutely hating her having that kind of grip on him, but his skin was on fire all the time and her grip on him were the only few seconds that burn was relieved. She was becoming a slow poison in his life and the only thing pulling him back from crossing the border and be engulfed by the insanity together.
A low growl escaped Manik's lips as he stood up, enraged, and ended up throwing an antique vase from his bedside right across with so much force, it hit his floor length sliding glass partition that separated the balcony from his room, causing a dent.
With uneven breaths, Manik walked over to the mirror and met his own eyes. He couldn't believe what he had done, or what he was doing.
Nandini Murthy had turned his world upside down, and he had let her, with a smile.
A string of curses left his mouth as he screamed loud, without being able to pin point of it was grueling rage or pent up anguish but he screamed until his vocal cords gave up and he fell down on his knees.
He was supposed to play her, but today, in that moment, he himself didn't know out of everything he shared with Nandini, what part of him was made up - a ploy, and what part had been gospel truth. The lines had been completely blurred.
His insides was a world of chaos.
And his emotions, all tangled.
Chaotic Tangles.
He remembered the first time he had seen her - met her - they had talked about the beauty of broken mirrors. She had impressed him without even trying to.
The memory hit him like a truck of bricks and something burnt inside him - he picked up one of his expensive French perfume bottles and threw it right across the mirror - shattering it.
A few huge pieces fell on his dressing table and on the floor.
Others, still formed a huge chunk of that shattered mirror.
“Indeed it is; when a mirror shatters, there is beauty in its broken pieces, because a mirror shows us one image, but now it can show us infinite ones. Destructed but beautiful! Isn't it?”
Nandini's voice, gentle and unfiltered, rang in his ears and he stumbled a few steps back, shaking his head.
"You were wrong Nandini. It's not beauty that broken pieces of a mirror reflects. It's truth. And truth is always painful deceit", Manik mumbled, his eyes roaming from one piece to the other.
And every reflection felt like a whole different Manik.
The Manik who was the apple of his mother's eyes, who was as genuine as her love for him.
The Manik that made a name for himself, and then paid a heavy price for that name.
The Manik who was bewitched by a certain fairy on earth.
The Manik who was betraying that very fairy with every bone in his body.
The Manik who loved Aadya.
The Manik who killed Aadya.
And the Manik standing in front of a shattered mirror - ill at ease, watching different versions of him smiling at him through different pieces of the same mirror, of the same Manik.
The door bell rang, breaking his stupor. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a shirt on hastily, trying to button it properly, but given he was still a little disoriented, he ended up putting his right feet on a sharp piece of glass, and yelped in pain as it pierced through his skin.
The door bell rang again.
Bending in sheer annoyance, Manik pulled the glass piece out, cast it aside, and walked out, towards the door, not bothered about the stinging pain in his feet, or the blood spotting his mahagony tiled floor.
Until Ofcourse he opened the door.
Because once he did, every damn emotion he had ever felt came rushing back to him in full force, but rage, anger and fury dominated everything else as his eyes collided with a familiar pair of brown eyes that the world found an exact replica.
"Hello to you too, Son", Mukesh Malhotra grinned at his son, enjoying his hostile expressions.
"What do you want?", Manik snickered, completely intending to shut the door on his father's face but senior Malhotra wasn't that easy to deal with. He laughed vicariously as he entered, and sat down on the sofa, completely at leisure.
"Six months is it?", he questioned, still grinning at Manik, "Nothing has probably changed. Or has it? Do you finally regret choosing this mad branch for yourself?".
"Certainly not", Manik answered, with a smirk as he closed the door behind him, "This mad branch taught me how to deal with obnoxious narcissists like you, I would forever be grateful".
Mukesh chuckled, and then leaned forward to interlink his hands.
"Sure. It did also teach you to kill a young girl for your own selfishness didn't it?", his eyes became mean as he stared at Manik, "But then that's not surprising. It's a habit you have had. First your sister, then your mother, then a stranger. As your father, I have just come here to know if your next prey is ready? Who is it this time? Nandini Murthy?"
Manik gritted his teeth and had to clench his fists too tight to contain his anger. If he could, he would have broken this man's jaw and wouldn't regret, but he couldn't do that to his mother's husband. She loved him too much for that.
"Why aren't you tired of your rubbish theories?", Manik asked, looking back at him, "It's not my fault you were to busy to look after your family".
“Lunatics don't make a family", Mukesh spoke through gritted teeth, "If I was to sit and care for all these crazy people you are shoving down my throat as family, we wouldn't have the money to give you a clean chit through the mess you make for a life", his temper rose as he answered his son with eyes spitting fire.
Manik glared back equally hard, trying his best to not make this verbal brawl a blood bath.
"I DIDN'T MAKE ANY MESS", he stated, stressing on every word, wild fury in his veins.
"Tell that to the lawyers, and the media and all the other people I paid so much to", Mukesh slammed his hand on the coffee table, "So much hostility for your own father. Why? Because your mother decided to kill herself?", Mukesh stood up too, standing just before Manik and holding his tensed gaze, "Your issue is I did not take care of her, of my family. You did, didn't you? And she still killed herself, so what was the use of your care or what did I loose by not spending my useful time for the same?"
Manik squeezed his eyes shut, the vein in his forehead popping up with the restraint he was putting himself through. Then he opened them again and faced his father with a ice cold glare.
"I got what you would never. Your twisted sense of victimizing yourself will take you nowhere Dr. Mukesh Malhotra. You will never win your son back, because you have cut every tie that binded me to you yourself", Manik's words held so much bitter contempt, Mukesh felt a known pain engulf him, but his anger, like always dominated everything else he felt.
"Sure. These ties would grow once again when you do something stupid, which you would do for sure", he shrugged acting non chalant, "Sometimes I think you don't even have to mess up deliberately, it is almost a second nature to you", a sick chuckle echoed as the older man continued to pick on his son's wounds, "Especially now that I hear you already have your new victim".
Everything shifted inside Manik, his stomach clenching almost painfully at the suggestive tone in his father's words.
"It's funny how as doctors, the first thing you learn is to treat your patients as patients, without getting emotionally attached - and you of all people, the great psychiatry junkie, couldn't learn that yet. How do you repeat your mistakes so often Manik?", Mukesh shook his head speaking in visible disappointment laden voice.
"For the last time, I DID NOT KILL AADYA", Manik shouted at the top of his voice, hardly resisting the urge to throw something at his own father.
"Which one?", Mukesh laughed, his anger driving the worst out of him too.
Manik blanched at his words, his heart tearing into two as he closed his eyes to absorb the words, "Just get the hell out of here", he added, speaking through clenched teeth, turning his back to his father.
"So soon? Wouldn't you tell me all about your new found toy?", Mukesh continued, poking a raw nerve with delight and a sense of wining.
"GET. THE. HELL. OUT", Manik's temper rose, and he turned to look at his father with red eyes, and a fire burning through him as he took quick steps to the door and opened it, “GET THE HELL OUT NOW OR I WILL DRAG YOU OUT THROUGH YOUR COLLAR. NOW!!!!", His voice was too loud and he wouldn't be surprised if the fellow apartment owners came out for the showdown.
Mukesh straightened up and buttoned his suit, in compete leisure before walking out, not forgetting to pat Manik's shoulder, almost as if teasing him.
Manik shut the door in his face and stood with his back to it, breathing heavily for few prolonged minutes, a sense of fatigue taking over him as he slid down the door.
He couldn't tell how many minutes passed with him sitting like that, but when the door bell rang again, he was almost sure it was less than five minutes and his father was still here to rub a little more salt on his wounds.
He opened the door with a force that might well have unhinged it, with an intention to kill the other person but stopped short in his tracks when his eyes met a known pair of hazel eyes.
Because it wasn't five minutes that had gone by, it was over an hour and it wasn't his father standing at the door.
It was Nandini Murthy.