"What took you so freaking long?" I holler as Alisha walks through the door with a parcel of food in her hands.
I eye the white plastic bag filled with food and wheel myself closet to her, crying when my hands suddenly get stuck in between the chair and the wheel.
Alisha's eyes go wide as she sees my pathetic state. She drops the bag without thought and runs to aid me.
Do not cry, Krithi.
You cannot cry when two lives are depending on you., I tell myself. Alisha places her hands on my stuck arm, slowing pulling it out of the wheelchairs' clutches.
"Took you long enough." I murmur in pain. She shakes her head, turning her back to me to obtain the food from where she dropped it.
In that moment, I clutch my right arm, grateful for having it on my body.
There's a few bleeding scratches, but it will heal. With time, any wound can mend. Our brain and our body could only remember so much.
I close my eyes again, trying to calm myself. "Krithi?" Alisha suddenly voices, her back still facing me.
"Yes?" I growl, trying to keep the sadness from my voice.
"You aren't really good at acting or hiding things." She pauses, as if thinking. "Has anyone told you that?" She asks, picking up the plastic bag from the floor.
I was never good at drama. My drama teacher so much as told me so. I never really liked to reveal my patients' conditions to their families, because I always told them very forwardly, just wanting to get over the worst. I was never good at keeping secrets either, my eyes spoke more than my mouth.
I vaguely remember Aniket telling me about my lack of talent in acting before we got married. The thought made me blush, since at the time, I had been blindfolded by my cousins, and strategically positioned in Aniket's room as he came out after showering, half dressed.
I placed my right hand on my cheeks, feeling the sadness rush through my whole spirit as I remembered him.
My heart is lost. the only one who could return my pulse is the love of my life, and he is nowhere to be found.
No, I haven't even tried.
Guilt replaces the sadness and I suddenly feel as if I've been slapped. My gullible Aniket trusted me even when he lost his memory and what am I doing? I am breaking his vast trust by not even searching for him. If it were me that was kidnapped, he would be ripping his hair apart trying to find me.
I swallow the guilt, digesting it before it could eat me away. I will find him. After gaining some energy. After solving the nurse issue, and leaving my hospital in good hands. Because, a lot more lives could be saved in this cause.
"What are you thinking about?" Alisha asks, bringing the food closer to me.
"Nothing. I—
I can't tell her anything. She will restrict me searching for my husband in this condition if I tell her anything about my current situation.
I have to prove to her how good I am at keeping secrets. She may have found out that I didn't like to show vulnerability, but I will be really vulnerable if I don't find Aniket.
He's my one weakness.
Even before my mother and father.
"Why did you kiss him?" I ask instead, trying to vainly distract her from my thoughts. If she was anything like my mother, not even my thoughts was safe.
Her expression changes. All her muscles focus on frowning and I wonder how she could not have gotten a cramp from smiling one moment and frowning the next millisecond.
"He kissed me. He took my first kiss. I'm not at fault here. I'm your best friend, Krithi. I would never betray you."
I believe her; at least now she won't ask me any questions about how I got my bullet wounds and why I was in such a hurry.
"Why? He knew he was going to marry me. Why did he kiss you, of all people?"
I suddenly realized how I sounded. "That was not what I meant, Alisha—
He frown deepened as tears brim the edge of her eyes. "Please. Save your excuses." She puts her hand up, fed up with me.
I didn't mean to make her think that she was unattractive in any way. She was beautiful, my best friend. She always wore her heart on her sleeve, never minding how vulnerable she might seem. She always listened and never complained about her own issues, which I know are more heavy than mountains. She smiled despite her troubles, and never let her sprit vanish. After all, that was her last possession: her spirit.
I know my best friend more than anyone and I give five minutes before she apologizes to me. No, she pities me.
I scrunch my face, disgust of myself pouring in like a snowstorm from the darkest parts of my vulnerable brain.
"I'm sorry." She says, not even turning away to hide her tears.
I wipe her tears with my recently injured arm, since the left one betrayed me and fell asleep after sitting in this damn wheel chair for almost an hour.
Her long lashes look up at me. She crouches down at my feet in front of me, silent for a moment before she smiles again. I see myself in her; she's so much like me, we could be twins. It was one of the reasons I warmed up to her in college so quickly.
I never let anyone close to me before that, because they either came for my brains or because they thought I offered protection. It was ironic, considering how small I was. Although, I was one of the best fighters. Thanks to my TaeKwonDo Masters.
Her hand reaches her peach-colored hijab, a nervous habit I've witnessed her develop from college. She was always so pristine, whereas I didn't care so much about how I looked or what I did.
She was so self conscious, so I guess that's where we differ. Even twins have their differences.
"I shouldn't have said that. I was jealous." I pause, biting my lip as she gets up, looking down at me. Suddenly I felt like a wounded dog, with her pitying yet caring look. "I wanted to be his first kiss, his first love, his first everything. And I felt like—
"Like I took it from you?" She asks, voicing my thoughts.
I nod, lowering my head, and unable to meet her gaze. She sighs, her lips slightly lifting at my guilt. "You want to know why he kissed me?" She asks, trying to stop from laughing.
I swear, you could never keep up with this woman's mood changes. I thought I was bipolar until I met her.
I nod eagerly, banishing the other thoughts from my head before they could distract me.
Wait, wasn't I trying to distract her? Oh never mind, she was indulging the secrets Aniket has kept from me and I want to know every part of him.
"He threatened me at first. I've seen him on the same bus as ours, every morning. He always got off a stop before ours, but he would look at you from outside. I knew you weren't interested in relationships, so I never told you since I didn't want you to be distracted from your studies because of some love-struck fool. I noticed his behaviors for a while, until one day, almost near the end of our college, he approached me. He pulled me out of class and he threatened me to give your address."
She looks down, frowning at the memory.
"Then?" I urge, curiosity burning through my veins.
"I refused. I wanted to know who he was. I warned him to stop following you. Then he came close to me, and he kissed me all of a sudden. That was my first kiss, and I felt angry that I was forced to give it away to someone other than my husband. I slapped him, but he came close to me and I freaked out that he was going to steal another kiss. I told him the way you take to you house, and he was happy enough with the information I provided to leave me alone."
I bite my lip, relieved. He kissed her to stalk me.
Wow, that was a weird thought.
Did she like it? No, you idiot. She said she was angry. But did she like it?
"I hated it. He's a awful kisser, you know? How do you manage?"
I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. Oh if only she knew how much my husband had improved in the art of seduction.
No, he was the drug itself. My drug.
"He's—
Suddenly, my stomach growls interrupting our conversation. I blush in embarrassment, while Alisha throws her head back, laughing wholeheartedly at me.
"Your baby is even more demanding than you," she says, shaking her head. Her smile grows, stretching to the full of her round face, and honestly the only thing I'm wondering is how this woman still hasn't had a cramp from so many emotions crossing her face.
"Hurry up." I whine, as she sits on the ground in front of me. I lean down, as she spoon feeds me. My left hand has gone to dreamland, whereas my right was just a pain in the neck. Literally. My collarbone is hurting too much and the pain is spreading to my whole right side.
She snorts as I gulp down the food without chewing. "I don't know know how the baby even survived after what you went through!" She gasps, giving me another spoonful of food.
I receive the goodness greedily, passively humming a yes. I am not going to answer anything else.
"You took a test?" I gasp, shocked at the news. "Aarav received you, but he came afterwards when you had to be changed. I know he did a bad job at sticking your bullet wounds, but I let it slip since he was so drowsy from working three days." She blushes deeply, and twists her hijab with her left hand. "I took a ultrasound, since I knew you would ask about the baby after you woke up. So far, the baby is fine." She says, putting a hand on my sleeping hand reassuringly. "By the way, who is Chinna?"
"Chinna?" I ask, peeking up at the sound of his name. He was at the gala; he was my husband's best friend, and yet he had not helped in our fight with the men dressed in black.
I clenched my teeth at the vague memory of him watching from the sidelines, cowering behind a few witnesses.
"He saved me?" I ask, seething. He has offered my life as charity!
I suddenly felt so disgusted, so repulsed that I wanted to rip off my skin. He was near me. He had got me to the hospital.
Why would he of all people help me?
He was chauvinistic, cold, monstrous and I didn't like his demeanor. Especially around woman.
What made him help me?
His loyalty for his friend? Maybe he had been loyal to his friend all along, and only told him to make me submissive so that Aniket wouldn't get hurt?
I was confused. As I tried to decode Chinna's true personality, Aarav came sprinting from the other end of the hallway. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of us, and wheezed, his hands on his knees. He held up his finger, signaling us to give him a second to catch his breath.
Scrawny dimwit.
"I—
He coughed uncontrollably, and Alisha put a hand on his back comfortingly, for which he smiled in thanks. Her blush is prominent as lowers her eyes, shying away from him and shaking her head.
I take a look at the two of them. She likes Aarav, but Aarav doesn't seem to notice the effect he has on her.
He stops coughing—finally—and strats to utter words, which I found very useful. "I found the culprit." He pauses, as if waiting for applause.
"I was told you were sleeping on the job." I say, examining my nails. He blushes, more so than Alisha and smiles sheepishly. Clearing his throat, he says, "I was, but you, um, disturbed me in my sleep and I went to do as you ordered."
"Disturbed?" Alisha says, coming out of her trance.
Aarav blushes even more deeply, as if it were possible, and starches the back of his neck. Alisha looks between the two of us before she crosses her arms, glaring at me.
Before I could recover my thoughts, Aarav starts to babble again. "It's a middle aged doctor, in his forties, at the least. He had worked night shifts and he sneaked the cameras in the woman's room. He should be beaten to death." Aarav fists his hands, his veins making an appearance.
"Okay, there, idiot. Calm down. We feminists her are okay. Aren't we? We'll take of it." I say, partially eyeing him and his balled fists.
He relaxes his shoulders, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He says, looking like a scolded child.
I laugh at him, before exposing the plan to the both of them.
************************************************
The moment I wheeled myself outside, with my tattered dress and exhausted expression, the crowds started to quiet.
They did not know of my true identity, as the owner of this hospital, so I have to introduce myself.
There was hundreds of woman lining the parking lot and beyond, protesting for their dignity. They held various signs, but only one caught my eye: "Forget about a woman travelling at night. We can barely walk in broad daylight without men taking our dignity."
Another sign. "Imagine a minute without women in this planet. Nothing will revolve around you ever again."
Another. "The day I walk in the streets when every man respects me like his own sister, will be the day I can trust again."
"When will this end? When will I be free?" One woman yells, clear and loud, pushing over the police barricades with her sisters.
I wanted to join them, fight for freedom. Fight for dignity. My inner feminist came strolling along, fighting my other values for a chance to prove herself.
No.
I have to focus on the task.
"Bring him out." I say, raising my eyes towards Aarav.
He slouches his shoulders, exhaustion emitting through his eyes. He clenches his jaw, pinched his bony forearm, and strides towards the entrance of my hospital, wincing from the pain.
I sigh, calming myself before I speak.
"You do not need to know my name. You have no need to know my background. All I want you to know, is that I am like you.
"I fought for freedom, for my dignity and my reputation. I survived, but millions are dying at the hands of some beasts.
"Whether you're married, single, in a abusive relationship. I give you one advice. Speak. Use the voice to bring change.
"Change will not begin with one protest, one defeat of a man who took your dignity. Every single man who had the audacity to even look at you the wrong way should be punished.
"The only thing that is needed, is for you to bring out your voices. You don't need pepper spray, no need to take costly self-defense classes, no reason to be afraid of every dark street. You do not need a man to survive.
"All you need to do, is show them who we are. They depend on us, not the other way around. To cook, to clean, to take care them, their family, give an heir, take care of the child. We have many reasons to live.
"They have one.
"To serve us. We are the rulers. We are the ones who lead them, whether in the family, or outside.
"We could be so much better, if we used our words and our actions.
"There is absolutely no need to cause destruction. No need to protest with empty stomachs. No need to scream for freedom.
"We need to set an example. One example to show the rest, that if you touch us, look at us, think about us the wrong way, we will come for you. You will be punished for your sins. On earth as well as hell."
"The man comes out, dazed. He falls of the stairs, tumbling into the hands of the waiting fire.
"Make them fear you. Show them the power of a woman. After this, they will look at as their sisters, their collègues and theirs friends."
They take the chance and roll the man into the middle of the crowd, without a noise, without any drama.
One woman stands in the middle, where the Indian flag falls in the winds high above her head. She looks above at the flag, and smirks. She's got her revenge, but what about her dignity?
She places her feet on top of his chest, choking him. She cries, looking at the dark sky above her.
A lone thunderbolt strikes a few miles away, killing a tree with its electric hands.
The sky turns darker, the wind howling with despair. For her, for every woman who has cried because of a man.
The somber mood persuades her, bringing out the sadness from within her. I can see the inhalation, but before she could exhale, she stomps on his neck, while he struggles to retrieve air into his greedy lungs.
"Please. Kill me." He chokes, when she starts to cry and lifts her leg slightly, unable to handle torturing a man.
A girl next to her puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, tucking in the end of her pallu into the folds of her saree at her hip.
Trouble stirs in the air, as every woman steps forward to take control.
I am not a psychic, but I can tell there is going to be blood involved.
I have accomplished my task. Now I have to go to search for the other half of my soul.
Just wait for me, Aniket.