Nothing was worse than feeling like an outsider in your own home. Maahir was experiencing the same pain. Everything in the house was just as he left it behind. Everything in his room had remained untouched. They had not even changed the wallpaper. It was like those two years never happened, but he could feel the pinch of two years. What made the house a home was the people who lived there. They were yet to even acknowledge his presence.
His mother had been in the kitchen when he walked in. He waited for her to come out, to look at him, to at least yell at him for what he had done, but she had not come. She made it a point to stay in the kitchen till he walked away. Her coldness cut him deep. He would have taken the anger gladly; her silence was the worst punishment for him. His bhaiya had dropped him at the house and walked away as if it did not matter.
He wished Manny was home. He had tried to call him several times, but the boy had not taken his calls. He could give anything for a welcoming smile. Pari gave out a loud wail. Maahir rushed to her side. She always woke up hungry. The nanny had gone out an hour ago. He was alone with Pari. He picked her up carefully. His hand protested, but he could not bear to see Pari cry.
"Hey princess, bhook lage hai na? Do minute de bas, main tera cerelac bana deta hoon. okay?"
Pari gave him a soulful look. Maahir placed a warm kiss on her forehead. She had calmed down the second he had picked her up. Mahir picked up the cereal box and walked with her to the kitchen. he needed hot water to prepare the baby food.
There was no one in the kitchen. Maahir sighed. He was clueless around the kitchen. he never had to cook. He knew the basics, but cooking was not for him. he realized it much early. Pari tugged at his shirt. She was hungry, and she made it known. He had placed an order for a highchair. It would be delivered a few hours later. Till then he just had to make do with what he got. He placed the baby down gently. She gave out a wail of protest.
"Kuch der Pari, bas do minute okay? Main ek baar yeh prepare kar doon phir godi???"
Pari continued to cry. Mahir did not know what to do. He was about to pick her up again when a pair of gentle arms reached for the baby and picked her up. Maahir could not look up for a second. He knew it was his mother. he would never mistake her fragrance. he looked up, their eyes met.
"Kya chaye Mahir?" Her voice was devoid of emotion. Pari stopped crying and looked at her. She had only seen a couple of faces in her short life. every new face intrigued her.
"kaise ho aap mumma?" Maahir forced the words out.
Mitali did not answer. She looked at the baby food box that was placed on the guest table. She could understand what Mahir nodded. She picked up the box and read the contents. What she read did not make her happy. It would fill the baby's stomach, but it would not provide any nutrition. She put the box away. The baby was her granddaughter. No matter how much Mahir and Ira tried to deny their relationships, she could not stop herself from loving the child. The little angel was nested in her arms. She was desperate to pepper her sweet face with kisses. Her first grandchild, she had not realized how much she wanted to be a grandmother until the moment she had seen Pari. All she wanted to do was shower her with love, but she knew her parents did not want her or her family around the child. She needed to respect that. Even if it killed her inside.
"That thing is not healthy," she could not stop herself from saying, "aur tumhare maazre tumhare alawa bhi hote hain."
Maahir frowned. He did not know it was not healthy. It was the best in the market, and it was one thing that Pari ate without fuss. He had got a huge supply with him when he can flown down to India. He read the contents as Mitali set a saucepan on the stove and added water.
"garm ho jaye to, banadena" She spoke without looking at him.
"Yeh healthy nehi hai?" Maahir looked at her.
Mitali shook her head.
"Phir kya healthy hoga?"
Mitali looked at her son. For the first time after he had stepped back into their home, she allowed herself the liberty to really look at him. He was just the same, yet looked so different. A boy had left their home, but she was facing a man. A father. Tears threatened but she kept them at bay.
"How old is she?" she forced the words out.
"She will turn one next month."
Mitali looked away. She had lost 11 months of her grandchild's life. Those eleven months would never come back again.
"Mumma....."
"She should be on solids. You and Adhira know what is better for her, Maahir. It was just a suggestion." She placed the baby down, but Pari started crying again. Mitali sighed but picked her up. She wanted to ask where Adhira was. A child that age needed her mother. She did not wish to judge, but she could not help it.
"She does not like roti, we tried. Ira tried everything. She does not eat, mumma. Usse bas yahi acha lagta hai."
Mitali sighed. Manny had been just like that. A very fussy eater. Maan and Mahir had never given her trouble, but her youngest gave her enough trouble to last her a lifetime. She had to experiment with all types of food to make sure he was properly fed. She had a few tricks down her sleeves.
"When did she last eat?"
"Do ghante pehle. It's her dinner time now."
Mitali nodded her head. She could not make something special so quickly, but she could whip out a quick porridge. She reached for the poha from the cupboard. Mahir reached for Pari.
"You are injured, Maahi." Mitali could not stop herself. "Let me hold her till your nanny is back. I have experience handling children; you can trust me...."
"Kya bol rahe ho yaar, mumma. It's not like that at all."
Mitali ignored him and continued to cook. Mahir stopped her and gently turned her around, "Ek baar mere taraf dekh to lo, mumma, please."
Mitali looked at him, the shimmer of tears in her eyes ripping Mahir's heart.
"I am sorry, mumma, I am really sorry for what happened. Please ek baar baat kar lo yaar. Please. Your silence is killing me."
"21 mahine, Maahi." Mitali stepped back. "21 mahine intezaar kiya maine. Tab yaad nahi aaye tujhe apne mumma ke? Aaj mere khamoshi chubh rahe hain tujhe?"
Mahir lowered his head. He had no answer to give. Mitali blinked off her tears and got back to cooking. She was too hurt to talk to him. Mahir fell silent, equally helpless. They both needed time to calm themselves. She was just done preparing the meal when the door buzzed. Mitali went to open the door but stopped when she saw Nitya walking inside. She still had the key to the house. She had pressed the intercom just to warn them that she was coming inside.
She had been at a wedding when Mitali made the call. As a wedding planner, it was her responsibility to oversee the entire event, but the moment she heard about Pari, she just could not stay back. She left everything midway and rushed there. She was sure the client would sue her, but at that moment, she could care less. All she wanted was to see the little angel. Her sister's child.
The moment her eyes landed on Pari, she could not help the tears that rushed to her eyes. She wanted to reach out to the baby, but she was paralyzed in spot. Mitali felt sadness wash over her. The fact that they had to even hesitate to reach for Pari was unfair to them. No matter how many differences they had, Adhira and Mahir had no right to keep the child away from them.
She looked at Mahir, willing him to do the right thing. Maahir took the baby from Mitali's arms, pain radiating through his shoulder, but he stifled the wince. He could see the look of abject pain in Nitya's eyes. If he had seen anger, he would have waited until she calmed down to introduce her to Pari, but he had no defense against the love shining in her eyes.
He walked towards her with the baby. Nitya had eyes only for the little angel. When Mahir handed her the child, she hugged her to her bosom, breaking down in sobs. Maitali rushed to her side, wrapping her arms around them both. Maahir had to look away. He did not know that a woman like Nitya had in her to love anyone that much. He had only heard about it in Adhira's words; now he was seeing the proof. That made him feel guilty.
Pari was overwhelmed by all the new faces she saw. She started crying. Both Nitya and Mitali tried their best to calm her, but she continued to sob. Mahir wanted to reach for her but resisted. They had been denied Pari for so long; he could not come between them now, but Pari did not stop crying.
"Ba-ba," she wailed when Mahir did not reach for her.
Nitya pulled back, giving the baby room to breathe. She realized she had been holding her too tight.
"Ba-ba," Pari continued to call out.
Maahir approached Nitya carefully. He was prepared for her anger, even braced for it, but when she did not react, he was confused. Pari extended her chubby arms towards him. Maahir took the baby back gently.
"It's okay, Pari," he wiped off her tears, "She is your bade mumma. See, bade mumma." He introduced. Pari was still reluctant to trust her. Mitali looked away to hide her tears. Her son had not offered her the same courtesy. She was still a stranger to the baby. Nitya had more right than her. She stepped away before she could betray her emotions. Mahir would never know how much he had hurt her. It was not his fault that he wanted to stay away from her; she must have really done something wrong.
She went inside the kitchen to school her emotions. Tears threatened to spill over, but she did not let them. She plated the porridge in a bowl and took it back outside. Mahir and Nitya were seated at the dining table. Neither speaking a word. Pari still clung to Mahir, refusing to let go.
She placed the bowl in front of Mahir and stepped back. She was about to go when she saw the telltale sign of pain in his eyes. His hand must be killing him. He had been shot a few hours before. Her heart shook, recalling the incident. Her child had been shot on the very day he had been born. She wished to take him in her arms and protect him against the evils of the world, but she knew she could not. He had taken away the right from her.
Yet the mother in her could not resist.
"Put her on the table, Mahir. You are straining your arm."
Maahir nodded his head. He was in too much pain to speak. He tried to put the baby down, but Pari wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to let go. Mahir could not stifle the wince of pain. Nitya gently pulled the baby back from Mahir's arms.
"No, you are hurting Papa," she chastised gently. The baby stopped struggling and looked at her; her gentle reprimand got through to her. Mahir was grateful.
"Dawai kaha hai tera?" Mitali looked at him worried. Mahir pointed to the room. Mitali rushed to get the medicines.
Maahir took a minute to compose himself. The pain was dulling down now that the baby was no longer in his arms. He looked at Nitya. She was not even looking at him.
"Bhabhi....."
"Nitya," Nitya cut him off. Their eyes met. He could see the anger shining in her eyes. He was surprised that she was behaving so calm when she was seething inside. The Nitya he knew punched first and spoke later. He was surprised by the change he saw in her.
"I am not your brother's wife anymore, Mahir. I am sure you do not know that. It's best to be honest about relationships. Something else that you do not know."
Maahir sighed. She had not changed that much after all. She could still slay people with her words.
"Aapka gussa samajh me ata hai bhabhi, I......"
"It's Nitya, Mahir. Nitya, don't ever call me bhabhi again. Humare beech bas ek rishta hai ab. Let's just respect that. You are my sister's husband....."
"Bhabhi...."
"Don't, Mahir. Right now, all I want to do is rip your heart and feed it to the dogs."
Mahir cringed. He knew she would do just that if given a chance.
"If it was up to me, I would hang you by your arms over a slow flame and roast you....."
"Alright, Nitya. I got the picture. You hate me."
"More than you can ever imagine, Mahir. You walked out from this very house, promising to come back in a few hours. Do you know how long I have waited?"
Mahir did not answer. Nitya forced the anger down. She could not let her anger destroy her only chance.
"I am sorry," she forced the words out. Mahir looked at her, shocked.
"Just don't be upset okay. I..... should not have said those things to you. I am really sorry"
"I am not upset bhabhi" Maahir looked back at her. "You do not have to aapologize"
"I do Mahir. My arrogance costed me...... I am not....." She took a deep calming breath reminding herself that she could do it. "Ira kaise hai, Mahir?" Nitya strived for a calm tone. "Is she fine? Is she coming?"
"Woh theek hai bhabhi, she's in California. Uske exams chal rahe hain. She will come back once her exams are over."
Nitya looked at Pari. She was confused.
"Pari uske bina rahegi?"
Maahir nodded his head. Pari was used to staying with him.
"Kab ayegi woh?"
"Ek mahine mein."
Nitya closed her eyes. 30 days. It sounded like an eternity, but she could wait. She had waited so long. Another 30 days did not matter.
"Is she still mad at me?"
Maahir looked away. If only he could tell her the truth!
"Maahir, I am not the same person I was before," Nitya pleaded. "I know where I have gone wrong. I have changed, okay? I will be in my limits. Ira.... I will not ask her anything. It's her life; she has the right to choose her life partner. I will be happy in her happiness. Can you tell her that, please? Tell her that I am really sorry for everything," Nitya struggled with tears. "I will wait for her to forgive me; just don't shut me out from your lives. Please..... maybe I can just visit once a year? I promise I will not impose......"
Maahir could not even look at her. A proud woman was reduced to begging them. They had brought her to this situation. There was a time when Nitya's attitude rubbed him the wrong way. Now he just wanted the old Nitya back; he wanted her to fight with him, not beg.
"Mahir, please...."
Pari began to fuss. Maahir looked at the baby. She was hungry.
"Use khelado, bhabhi. Bohot bhook lage hai use. Main abhi ata hoon." He got up and rushed outside. He could not sit there a second longer. He was not prepared to face the consequences of their actions. He was going to his room when he saw his mother standing near the staircase. She must have overheard everything. Her tears were proof enough.
"Mumma?"
She handed his medicines without a word and walked away. Maahir shut his eyes in frustration. He had hurt too many people. He just did not know how to set things right anymore. He felt helpless.
Mahir sat on a rocking chair near the fireplace, staring at the embers, looking for solutions. Pari had drifted off to sleep in her new cradle. He was surprised when Maan had a cradle delivered to the house. His bhaiya thought about everything. He was happy to let Pari sleep beside him, but a cradle was more comfortable for the child. He wanted to regret his actions, but he could not. Because if he did regret, he would have to regret Pari, and his angel was a blessing in their lives. She was worth all his regrets.
The clock struck four when he heard the bike entering the porch. He walked to the French windows and looked down. Maan hopped off his bike and made his way inside. To say he was surprised was the understatement of the year. His bhaiya never allowed them to stay out of the house after 10. The boy had been out all night. His bhaiya had come in at 2 in the night; if he saw Maan, the boy would be in trouble. He rushed down to open the door for his brother before anyone could see him.
When he reached the hall, he saw his mother doing just the same. He looked around, worried that his bhaiya would come down. Manny walked inside, as if he did not have a care.
"Yeh bhi koi time hai ghar lautne ka, Manava?" Mitali sounded furious. "Kaha tha ab tak?"
"Bahar," Manav's reply was brisk and rude. Mahir was taken aback. Manny never used that tone with anyone, least of all with his mother.
"Kaha Manav?"
"Bola na bahar, kyun chilla rahe ho aap mumma? Bahar tha main. Aab aa gaya na main wapas. Chill karo aap."
Mahir gasped. Manav was not even trying to keep his voice down. He was sure his bhaiya would have heard him if he was awake. His eyes darted to Maan's room. The door was still shut. He breathed a sigh of relief, but then anger bubbled inside. How dare the boy take that tone with their mother. He marched down to confront him.
"Kaha rehta hai tu Manav? College bhi nahi gaya tu aaj? Kya karta hai tu bata? Aaj tujhe jawab dena hoga. Bata kaha tha tu....."
"Why do you care mumma?" Manav shot at her, "why do you even bother with me? Main jo bhi karu usse aapko kya farq padta hai, kise ko kya farq padta hai. I am 18 mumma, I do not have to justify my actions to anyone. I am a legal adult. I..."
He stopped when he felt a sharp sting on his face. He looked up hoping to see Maan, was shocked to see Mahir seething in anger.
"How dare you take that tone with mumma, Manav, how dare you......."
Manav did not let him finish and hurled himself at Mahir. He had missed him so much. His eyes filled up. He was glad he was back.
"I missed you Big-b! I missed you so much," he pulled back wiping his tears, "bataya kyun nahi ke aap aa rahe ho?"
Mahir stepped back. He wanted to pull him back into his embrace, but he could not ignore the way he behaved with their mother.
"Yeh kya tareka hai mumma se baat karne ka Manny? What got into you? Bhaiya sun lete to......"
Manav's scoff shocked him much more than his behavior.
"Dekhlete to kya big-b? Kya karte woh? Kuch bhi to nahi."
"Manav...."
"I am tired, big-b. I need to sleep it off. Are you staying? or is this a temporary arrangement?"
Mahir did not know what to say to that. The Manav who spoke on the phone always sounded distant, but he did not let that bother him. He was just happy to talk to him, to hold on to something familiar. He had not been prepared to see the change in him.
"If you decide to stay for a couple of days, let me know. We can hang out. There is a good pub in town. You will enjoy it. It's completely your type, big-b. Kal chalenge. Now I have to go."
He gave him a smile that did not reach his eyes. Mahir was a showman; he could see an act when he saw one. His younger brother was giving an Oscar-level performance. But the real question was why?
"Aap bhi so jao mumma," Manav addressed his mother, "stop wasting your time on a useless person like me. Now that your favorite child is back, spend time with him. I am sure he will not stay over for more than a few weeks. Make the best of this time. We never know when he will come back again. You can waste another two years crying for him. I am so prepared this time."
Mitali looked away, hurt. Manav walked to his room as if he did not have a care in the world. He hesitated by Maan's room for a second. Mahir would have missed it if he had not been paying such close attention. He could not see Manav's face; he wanted to see what he was playing at. Manav moved away to his room. The door shut with a bang. The sound echoed in the whole mansion. There was no way his bhaiya had not heard that. Maan was a very light sleeper.
If he had done the same thing two years back, his bhaiya would have made his ears ring. Maan was a very cool guardian, but he expected them to behave. If they ever crossed a line, he made sure they learned a very hard lesson. He must have known that Manav was back home. Why did he not come down even after he heard the commotion? His head was spinning. Everyone had changed so much that he had a hard time reconciling to the new reality. He just could not see his family falling apart, and the realization that somewhere he and Ira were responsible for everything did not make it any better for him.