[ N I S H A ' S P O V ]
Two tall buildings sat opposite to each other; each wearing its own beauty and elegance. My head turned to the right, swallowing the white church situated in the middle of the ground, surrounded by vast expanse of what seem like freshly cut grass and cluster of people. While I was gazing at one church, Rahul and Harshit struck their eyes to another. Reddish brown church with artwork that was faded with time, and it looked like it was on verge of falling into pieces of its own making.
People were going out of one church and scurrying back to another. My lips formed a cruel smirk, looking at the cameras in their hand, the poses they made, the snapping that happened. Rare would be those who came here for the God, most for the pictures.
"Old Goa, huh? And Church?" Harshit asked from behind. "That's what the fuss was about?"
Ignoring him, Rahul wore his glasses and died down the ignition.
"I thought it was a bar. Thanks for clearing my confusion." I slapped Rahul's hand for playing his sarcasm again. We both knew Harshit didn't get sarcasm easily. Well, he had low IQ for that.
"I'm not going." I leaned my head at the back, kicked the slippers off my feet and folded the legs on the seat. "You both go, do whatever you want and come back soon."
"What's with you now? You love all this stuff."
"Will you both excuse me?" Before I could reply, Harshit thrashed open the car door and ran out of it in hurry. Our eyes remain struck at the disappearing figure of his, going where I had no idea about but for what he was going that I was aware of.
A hard and rough gripped mine and squeezed it lightly. "Why don't you want to go? You pray and you believe. Or is it because of a Church? You want to go to a temple?"
"Oh, shut up." I snatched my hand away from his grip. "I'm not the devil you make me. I just don't believe in God anymore."
His mouth parted, shock plastered in his eyes and fingers twitched. Not able to handle it, I changed my gaze to the white church, gazing at the people, wondering what would be inside it. Were the dead bodies of father was still there? Were we allowed to candle the lights now? Was anything at all?
"You pray."
"I used to." I leaned my head against the window. "I used to pray everyday, asking Gods—any God—to give me the freedom, to make my life better, to let me make my own decision." I heaved a heavy breath. "I prayed the whole week, asking to change the news and say some survivors were left. And at last, they didn't listen. Kabir burned nothing. I saw nothing. I believed in them so much and what did they do? Took away my everything. What's the point of praying and believing when he doesn't listen at all?"
Shutting my eyes in a close lid, I grind my teeth together. "So Mr. Khanna, I'm done with all those stuff. Believing disappoints."
He didn't say anything, just the opening the seat belt echoed in the car and he left me alone, muttering he would be back in some minutes. Biting my lip, I saw his back walking inside the gateway of the church, his feet walking through the pavement as Harshit joined him, and took his phone out to take the picture but Rahul ignored him and walked inside the gate cut through in the middle of the building.
After what seem like fifteen minutes, they both appeared again, and didn't bother to go to the next church but settled in the car, joining me and my loneliness.
I stared at their faces in bewilderment. "What? Other church?"
"I've seen that. Pray in any Church. All that matter is praying. Why go to another to pray again?" With that, Rahul swirled the car out of the parking, and the tapping sound played against the window.
Talking with Radhika helped a bit to feel better than before, but even when I was talking to her, I wished it was Alina. Why wasn't she calling me? She never behaved like this. No matter how much we both fought she always called back, she always tried to made me felt better and patched our things. Didn't she know I was stupid when it came to friendships?
And then the plan I was initiating. Would it be fruitful? Would I get the answers I was seeking? Was opening old graves were good thing?
Leaving the boys, I traced my finger to the raindrop sliding down the window, and when it was swallowed, my finger got to another one. As if to irritate me, the window slided down and the drops of water were sticking to my face. Groaning, I swirled my head to see Rahul's smirk and shrugging of shoulders.
"You should use it," He said snidely. "God knows how much you smell. Did you hear anything of bathing? If you haven't, I can teach you the process."
"Hey! That's my girlfriend," Harshit said annoyingly. "It's better if you know some limits, Rahul."
I gritted my teeth together, clicked the button on the door but the window glass didn't rise up. I clicked it thrice, and the same happen.
Covering my face, I said, "Childlock, Rahul? Seriously? A child lock? Close the damn fucking window." I swirled my head to the back. "And thank you."
When Rahul treasury of fun was fulfilled, he removed the child lock and closed the window. But it wasn't well for me. My shirt was almost soaked, making it appear transparent and the details of my inner to outshine and grab it. I grabbed my wet hair from the back and tied them into a knot whilst my eyes were too engaged to glare at Rahul.
"Thank you so much." I flew my hands to my shirt. "Now I'll be the attention of the universe to where ever we're going next."
"Universe? That's too over bit, don't you think? I mean we've no idea what and who lives on another planets. They could be worse than you." He changed his gaze to my shirt, lingering his eyes too down before I coughed and his gaze went ahead. "Harshit, grab a jacket from the back," He said horsely. "That would undo the damage."
A brown jacket was thrown in my lap rather than handing me carefully. Perplexed, I stared at Harhit, who didn't bother to look at me and gaze outside the window. Weird.
I wore the jacket, untied my hair and ran my fingers through them to untangle the messy knots. The voice of GPS was left in the background while I dissolved myself in the work of messiness and wetness.
Rahul parked the car for the second time of the day.
"Now we're in Dona Paula." Rahul gasped and stared at me. "Would you honor this place with your precious attention, princess?"
"I thought we would go to the waterfall."
"Yes, we would've but it's two or three hours ride and I'm not in the state to drive much--"
"You're in state of not driving at all." I peered at this red shirt, hiding the wound and the bulk of bandages.
"I didn't ask for your advice. As I was saying, the monsoon is near, so they had to close it down." He paced his head back and forth. "You both go. I'm hungry. I'll come after eating something." He got out of the car and walked to the near shop. I gave a small smile to Harshit, and without replying to the gesture, he got out of the car and banged the door.
Confused, I got out and followed him to the path leading to the top. On one side, shop stalls were placed covered with blue plastic sheets but the mouth of the shop was gaped open to sell shirts, hats, dresses etc. While on the other hand, the vast ocean was rumbling and thrashing and my feets were busy following my mad almost boyfriend.
"Harshit!" I called his name, feeling exhausted because of my black wedgies.
The sea breeze cut through my body, freezing my bare legs but I kept on moving. What the hell was his problem now?
"Harshit!" I grabbed his hand at last. "What happened? Is everything okay?"
"Yes," He groaned, taking his hand out of my grip and settled on a seat.
I joined him, concerned and confused over his behaviour. "Why are you being so grumpy?"
"Me? Grumpy?" He crossed his arms against his chest. The water colliding against the rocks, splashed bits of it on my face. "Don't you think you and Rahul talk without any lines?"
"What line? We speak in lines," I joked.
"I mean friendship lines, Nisha." As if noticing my scowl on the word friendship, he rectified his sentence, "Any lines you both have."
"What? We know our limits."
"Really?" He uncrossed his arms and flew them in the air, anger and frustration marked on his face. "You flashed him your chest in the car!"
"I didn't!" I laugh bubbled out of me. He was angry on this?
"And now you're laughing. Great!" He clearly didn't find the humour in this. "On top of that, he insiuating to bath with you and you said him nothing."
"Rahul is like that. We both know he's not serious."
If our last night kiss said it was nothing serious.
"But Nisha, this doesn't look good. Your inners---"
"You can say bra, you're not a baby and it's not a word to be ashamed of. You men wear inners, we girls have bra."
His cheeks got red and he looked around. But they weren't because of being uncomfortable, it was as if he was ashamed I would the word in the public. But what's so bad about it?
"Harshit, chill. It's not like I said let's go and have sex."
He groaned, and pinned me a glare. "I'm not from your society, Nisha. I'm not bold as you and it doesn't look good if a well mannered girl from a good family background says such words."
"What society am I from, Harshit?"
"Leave it."
"No, tell me. What society am I from?"
"Fine!" He got up angrily. "The society which have no moral values. I mean look at your brother and your friend. They both were in a living relationship. We're not western people, we've some traditions and morals to follow. I don't know how your parents got ready for it. You all have fathers filling your pockets. Spoiled brats, okay?"
"You think I'm a spoil brat?"
"Not you."
"You think Kabir is a spoil brat? Or Alina, Rahul, Dhruv?"
"Nisha--"
"I can't believe this. You're getting angry on me just because I said some words or showed my transparent shirt to Rahul? It's not like I went naked in front of him. Have you fucking lost your mind? Whatever Rahul appears to be, he's a decent guy. And for the record, it was nothing! And you've no right to say me to don't say those words because we both run away to Manali and shared a room. We both know what we did. Don't play such an innocent card in front of me now."
Harshit rolled his eyes. "Remove your jacket, and let me see if your decent Rahul's eyes doesn't wander there."
"He had seen me naked just because of you!" I accused my finger at him. "No matter what condition I'm in, he know his limits. Don't make him a cheapster in my eyes."
"Don't you hate him, Nisha? What siding with him then? You think he slid down the window for fun? He had an intention and he got it. You're so damn stupid."
My nose flared, and I pushed his chest at the back, not caring the jacket was getting wet or some people had staring at us. "Never ever call me stupid. I think we should leave because I don't know what's the deal with you. But sort it out."
Before he could reply, Rahul stepped between us. His brows were frowned, hands placed at my hand and he was glaring at Harshit.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yes," I gritted.
"No," Harshit mumbled and removed Rahul's hand from top of mine. "Why you keep on touching her? If you hate her, stay away from her."
"Harshit, have you fucking lost your mind? I was uncurling her hands." I stared down at my hands, noticing I had formed a fist and the nails were biting my skin as always.
"Rahul, we should go. I'm not feeling well." He diverted his attention from Harshit and placed it on mine because next minute, his hand was on my forehead, checking my temperature. As Rahul's figure was covering Harshit, I mouthed a please and he nodded back.
"Wait!" Harshit called from back and stood in front of me. "Remove your jacket. Let's see."
"We're not doing this!" I hissed. "Stop this nonsense, Harshit."
"Why are you so scared now?"
"Because you're being stupid." But he didn't listen me, and in a flash, the zipper of the jacket was opened. The shirt was still wet, and it had become more prominent than before and before I could gather what was happening, Rahul struck his fist against Harshit's jaw.
Everything happened in a fast motion, Rahul struck his fist against his jaw and Harshit blew his fist against his stomach and I screamed at them to stop. People had formed a round circle around us; some even dared to ask if their was any problem but I shook my head and told them to go on their way.
Between all this, Rahul and Harshit were busy glaring at each other and I stepped between both of them.
"We're going back to hotel," I said to Rahul, and turned to Harshit. "You need to sort something out in your brain. If you think opening my jacket will make me think again on my beliefs, then you're wrong. Sex, bra, sex, bra. See? No shame I have. Neither should you because I remember correctly how excited you were while doing all those stuff. Shove your chauvenism to your fucking face."
I grabbed Rahul's hand, walked us down the same pavement I went through fifteen minutes ago. I didn't hear Rahul's protest, and told him to shut up because I wasn't in the mood to have a talk on how Harshit humiliated in front of him, how we both went through a fight just after two days of being together.
Without any exchange of words, Rahul sat in his seat and drove away, leaving Harshit alone to think over his stupid and idiotic words.
"What was that?" Rahul hissed.
"I don't know," I replied. "But I think he just pointed a finger on my family morals."
Rahul dropped the car keys on the receptionist table, and without passing any flirty comment, he started walking away to the direction of the elevator. His hand was on his stomach, back was tensed. In the whole ride, he didn't say anything, let the music drown the silence between us and it gave entry to the thoughts tresspass and trouble me.
Was Harshit right? Did I forget all my limits when I was with Rahul? Was I missing on something?
How would he react if he get to know Rahul and I kissed?
Suddeness of the thought halted me on my tracks, and I rubbed my hand against my face. Everything was getting too much complicated and messy. Why would I even thought of responding back? Why would I even thought of tangling my hands in his hair? Why couldn't I forget it when he had made it crystal clear that we should move on from it?
Huh. I hate him for making it complicated.
I had come to Goa to move away from my troubled thoughts, but it seemed to make more troubled.
Swiping my card, I opened the door and entered just to see Rahul laying on the floor with his back supported with the help of bar table. His hand was enclosed on top of his stomach, sweat covered his face and he mumbled incoherent words.
"Rahul!" I screeched. My handbag fell on the floor as I ducked and bent on the floor next to him. Removing his hand, I saw the dark patch covering his shirt. Without thinking, I opened the buttons of his shirt, let it slide past and saw the bandage was covered with blood. Looking around, I snatched the knife resting on the fruit basket placed on the top of the table and cut his bandage. I was met by a gushing fatal wound. "Oh my god! How?"
"I—I don't know," He mumbled in pain.
"Don't speak." I hushed him. "Hospital. We need to take you to the hospital." I stood up, ran to the nearest telephone but his mumbling halted me.
"Don't. Please. Don't."
I swirled and pinned him with a glare. "What's your problem? You need stitches. Why are you so scared?"
"They'll ask," He swallowed, closed his eyes and panted. "I—I—"
"I'm calling the ambulance."
"You do it," He panted, tried to get up but fumbled back on the floor with a thump. His blood was no where on the stop. "You're a doctor. You do it."
"I can't. I'm not a doctor."
"Nisha, please." He leaned his head against the bar. "Please," His voice died down to merely a whisper. Scared, I dropped the phone from my hand and slid down next to him. His eyes were dropping and bits of breath were emitting out of his mouth.
I patted my hand against his cheek. "Rahul, get up." I panicked and repeated the process again. Small lids of eyes opened. "Rahul, please, I need to take you to the hospital. It's an emergency."
He shook his head a bit. Why was he so adamant to not go to the hospital? No doubt they would ask the reason, and we both knew the reason. But why was he so scared?
I closed my eyes for a bit, and then acted fastly. I slid his arm on my shoulder, and slid my arm to his torso. Gathering my strength, I tried to balance him on his steps but he stumbled down.
"I need to take you to the room." He nodded, pasted his hand on the top of the counter and stood up. With small little steps, we entered the room and he dropped on the bed.
As soon he was on the bed, I ran to my luggage, rummaged through my clothes, threw them out in the hurry and took out of the first aid box. My next stop was the bathroom where I filled the mug with water until it brimmed till the top and ran to the room, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Inspecting his wound, I took the cotton out of the first aid box and wet it a little. "Try not to scream." I swiped the cotton ball against his stomach to clean the blood and while doing so, it went to his wound and he screamed. I panicked and dropped the cotton ball on the floor.
"I can't do it," I cried. "Rahul, I can't. It's dangerous. I'm not even a proper doctor. We need to--"
"Stop panicking, would you?!" Rahul screamed. "I'm the one laying with a cut. Stitch it, you stupid little girl. I need your help. You can do it. Please, princess." A shaky hand rested on top of mine. "You can do it. I trust you."
He trusted me with such a stupid thing. His life was on my hand; either I could help him or in road of helping him caused a never ending pain. But I had to do it. He needed my help and I couldn't be scared and give up on him.
His glazed eyes stared back at me, silently telling me to go through it and leave the consequences to the future. But they couldn't be left in the future, because a small mistake of mine could land him in a death bed, my one mistake could take his life but this boy wasn't understanding it.
Why was he trusting me with his life?
Nodding, I plucked another cotton ball and cleaned his wound, and unlike last time his screams weren't coming out. He had seen nothing. I didn't have morphine to curb down his pain neither I could give him anesthesia. When the cleaning was done, the wound was clear, the tissues could be seen and the blood had stopped coming out.
Getting up, I marched to the dressing table, opened cabinets and took the smallest needle I could find and the most reliable thread. I sighed relieved seeing the thread was still unused. My actions seemed feeble when I took out the sterlising solution and equipments from the box and went to the bathroom to wash them with the help of the solutions.
When all the steps were done and the equipments were cleaned, I sat next to Rahul, who offered me a weak smile.
"It'll leave a scar," I said. "And it'll hurt like a bitch." I dabbed lower lip and looked for something. Not finding anything, I patted my hand on his jeans pocket and took out the handkerchief. "Bite it, and try not to scream."
He didn't say anything while he took the handkerchief from my hands and closed it between his mouth and nodded for me to start.
Taking a deep breath, I placed the needle next to the cut with the help of the scissor and used the forcep to make the wound easy for me to see.
The drop of sweat glid down the back of my neck, goosebumps travelled in my arms. The atmosphere of the room was thick and tensed. I was closing within it, my eyes and hands were refusing to go through it, but I couldn't see Rahul in pain.
I could do it. I could do it. I had to do it. Their was no option left.
When the needle pierced his skin, he bit down hard on the handkerchief and his hand clutched my arm tightly. Ignoring him, I continued my work, stitched and knot, stitch and knot, stitch and knot till we were in the end, till his groans echoed in the room, till my heartbeat hadn't died down and I took a breath of relief.
His groans were stored in my mind for ever and I had no idea if they would disappear anytime soon. They would be my new nightmare.
Taking the scissor, I knotted the last stitch and cut the thread. Putting the utensils on the side, I cleaned the blood and bandaged the wound and gazed at him through my sweaty eyes. Air conditioner wasn't enough to hide our sweat and the pain reflecting on his face.
Inching my hand forward, I took the handkerchief out. My hands and clothes were filled with blood, my face was marked with tears and my hands were shaking now.
Getting up from the bed, I dumped the blood soaked cottons, needle and thread into the dustbin and marched to the bathroom and cleaned my hands to remove the trace of blood. As blood poured down the skin, tears marked down my eyes and I hiccuped.
It was so scary. I was too scared because of his stubborness of not going to the hospital. I cleaned my tears with the back of my hand. I hate him for putting me in a situation like this. I hate him. Turning off the tap, I walked back into the room to see him dozing off to sleep.
"Rahul." He nodded sleeply. "Do you want to take some painkillers?"
"That would help a bit," He breathed. "And sleeping pills too." Trailing through my messed room, I searched for the painkillers and handed him one tablet with the glass of water. He swallowed it and I put the glass at the side table. I started walking out of the room when he caught my hand, making me turn and look at him. "Stay for a bit."
"You need sleep."
"Please," He mumbled vulnerably. I had never seen Rahul vulnerable and mumbling please again and again.
Reluctantly, I sat next to him, gazed at him for some minutes and dropped my head on his shoulder. "Please, don't make me do it again."
He chuckled weakly underneath me. "You want to be a surgeon and you're scared of stitching me up."
"You don't understand." I shook my head against his shoulder. "And I hate you for always putting me into situations where I've no way out. Stop doing this to me."
It was like cleaning the wounds of Kabir, scared out of my wits if this would happen again in the future and I would lose him, scared something was out of the picture and he was hurting. In all these years, I had hated Rahul, loathed him from the fiber of my being because of his nature and attitude but he shouldn't go through what he had.
"When last night you told me about your mother I had no words to say," I mumbled, pulled my eyes to stare at him. "You're not your father, baby. You're a better person than him."
His fingers removed the curtain of my hair from my face and chuckled. "Thank you for everything," he rasped.
After that, he didn't speak neither did I. My head against his shoulder found a comfort I didn't want it to find. My heart was telling me to move head when his sleeping breath was heard by me, but I didn't and traced his arms with the finger, wondering about the day or rather the night I didn't want to remain in my mind.
Leaning my head up a little, I saw his eyes were closed, his brows were attached together and lines had appeared on his forehead. I travelled my finger to his forehead and cleared the lines. His face reflected his pain and fatigue. I couldn't even imagine how he got the stitches without numbing his nerves and the pain he had to go through.
Untangling myself from him, I got up and covered his torso with the red blanket. Giving him a last stare, I took the pillows and left the room to let him sleep in peace while I drowned myself in the memories.
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Long chapter, huh?
Do tell your views below because damn it was too intense and scary for me to write. I had to see how to do stitches before writing it. I'm not even a doctor. Doctor stuff is tough.
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