Hi fam!
We touched a milestone today.
30 chapters. 100K views.
9.5K comments.
And such a beautiful journey.
Team Stars, y'all rock.
Happy Reading! I have a feeling this is one of the most awaited updates.
✿ ✿ ✿
name: Cursed
word count: 4300 words
published on: 17th Oct, 2019
✿ ✿ ✿
100K special.
[ unedited ]
Important: You have to remember that five years have passed away. Five years is a really big time to hold a grudge against someone. It doesn't necessarily mean forgiving them or giving them a second chance; but letting your anger subside a little in the overwhelmness of seeing someone you love after a long, long time is human.
Please try understanding the situation both ways instead of picking sides, however, most of you are already on Manik's, so I have written this part in Nandini's PoV.
It's important to keep in mind that she has too, been through a lot. And after going through life changing accidents, trying to live again is not easy. It requires a lot of strength and courage.
' You can be mad at someone, and still miss them.'
– To All The Boys I've Loved Before.
N A N D I N I
"I– what?" I could barely take in what he just asked and this was an immediate response. "Murder? Did you just say murder?"
"I think I did," he replied back, casually.
"I haven't murdered anyone," I asserted, crossing my hands against my chest. I wanted to apologise, yes, but that doesn't mean I have to take in a blame for something I had not done.
He stood silent for a very long time, his gaze fixed at one place outside the window and I couldn't quite point at what. Probably it wasn't really that long, a few minutes, but that silence was enraging in a way I couldn't really understand.
Couldn't he just tell me what played in that thick head of his?
He then turned towards me, only for a brief second, his eyes a little lost, as if conveying something I couldn't put a finger on. I felt puzzled, and that's exactly how I kept looking back at him before he turned away again. The sunset was so beautiful, why would he want to even look at me?
"Tell me...," he said, his voice tired yet raspy, and I knew he was debating all this time, "Do you know where Mukti is?"
"I–," my words dried in my throat. "What do you mean?" I asked, slightly horrified of what the answer to my question could be.
He turned to me, his expression stone cold as he opened his mouth to say something but stopped when the cabin door opened.
Jeff walked in.
"Manik..." she was in a trance but her voice faded when her eyes reached us standing in a very distant corner of the room and talking with cold expressions. "Sorry, should I come later?"
"Yes." "No." I and Manik answered simultaneously.
I looked at him with a bewildered look. Did he just say yes? I mean, that's plain rude.
"Good," she rolled her eyes, " 'Cause you both need to suck it up. The meeting that y'all were presenting for, the venue's changed to Paris. Ralph called."
"What do you mean changed? It's a board meeting, it's supposed to be in my company like every year," Manik seemed pissed.
"Manik, it's in your company," Jeff said in a bored tone, "Just at the branch in Paris, not London. And it's just a 6 hour car ride. Or two and half hour train ride. Or just an hour with your jet. Hop, skip, jump."
"Right," Manik scratched his forehead, "Call Ralph up and ask him to get the jet ready. We'll fly out soon. The meeting is still scheduled for tomorrow right?"
Jeff nodded, and then stopped, "We?"
"Yeah, we," Manik said, pointing at the two of them.
"Manik, I'm the designer, I don't think I should be the one to present with you," she said with a sheepish grin. Manik's eyes knitted for a moment before they both looked at me.
I shifted consciously. "Nandini, how far do you live from here?" Jeff asked.
"Ten minutes walk," I said, softly.
"Good. Get packed and meet Manik at the airport in an hour," she smiled victoriously.
"I– what?" I repeated, dumbfounded. I looked at Manik, hoping for hesitation from his side, but he didn't even spare me a glance.
Ouch.
But again, I one hundred percent deserve this.
"Okay then," Manik said, "I'm going to drop you home and pick you after an hour. Let's go."
He didn't wait for an answer as he walked out. Did he expect me to follow him? I looked at Jeff, puzzled, and she gave me an obvious look.
"Right, sorry," I murmured as I ran behind him and followed him into the lift. We stood awkwardly at the two ends of the lift as it streamed down but suddenly, there was a little jerk and the lift stopped for a second before starting again.
My breath almost hitched in my throat and I hugged my arms closer, thinking the lift might've stopped, but when it started again, relief was written all over my face.
"Scared of a little lift-jerk?" Manik peered, not looking at me.
"No," I lied, "Just claustrophobic."
From the corner of his eyes, I saw his brows knit but he covered it up instantly. I knew he realised I didn't have such a phobia earlier.
Ofcourse he noticed.
But he didn't pry. Thankfully.
I followed him to his car, at the very awkward ride began. Thank god the car ride is just for a few minutes. He drove looking straight ahead and didn't even look at me, not even when I routed the directions to my house.
He stopped where I asked him to, and I unbuckled my seatbelt. "Thank you," I murmured. No reply.
"Uh.. Manik?" I asked. He removed his shades and looked at me with disinterest on his face.
"How many days are we going to be in Paris at?" I asked.
"Five," he replied, "Meeting tomorrow. You can take the next two days to yourself, as well enjoy yourself when you're there. On the fourth day, I have an exhibit to attend, and I'd like you to accompany me. Fifth morning we'll be back."
I nodded in return. "I'll see you in an hour I guess?" I asked, unsure.
He drove away.
✿
Needless to say, the plane ride wasn't going to be like Jeff described it: a hop, skip, jump.
I couldn't take in more silence. Manik had picked me up just after an hour as he promised. He was waiting in the car after sixty minutes dot, and didn't even bother to call or inform. He kept waiting in his car, and thank my stars I came out to check where he was and saw him already waiting.
Would he have waited out all day had I not checked outside the window?
I kept my question to myself. When I got in his car, he was talking on the phone. He kept talking on the phone for the twenty minute ride until we reached the airport and didn't speak a word to me as we completed the required formalities.
Not. A. Word.
The talkative person I once knew hadn't even spoken a hello since we met, which was an hour and a half ago. We simply were two strangers travelling via the same plane, which I may add, was his private plane.
I tried not talking to him as long as I could. It's alright Nandini, I told myself, if he doesn't want to talk to you, you can give him the peace.
Needless to say, I couldn't. His silence was killing me. I didn't enjoy the hastlefree airport entry making me feel so special, or the giant private jet he owned, or the lush luxuries inside it, or the windows or the leather seats or private air hostesses or looking at London minimise when the plane took off. All I cared about was him. And I really, really wanted to hear his voice.
"Manik," I called him, ten minutes into the plane ride when we were both busy in our own laptops, making the presentation we didn't in the office.
"Yes?" He looked up from his laptop too.
"About what we were talking in your cabin..." I started. I must be a fool to pick this conversation again, really. But he deserved his closure just as much as I deserved mine.
"Right," he breathed, keeping his laptop aside and I followed the same, "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" I repeated, more than surprised.
He nodded, "I crossed a line there. I have all the right to be angry at you, yes; or to shout and ask you questions, but what I asked you was just wrong. I can't blame you for something you haven't done." A weak smile lingered on his lips and that, most honestly, scares me.
"I don't know what to say," I say, softly. I was puzzled, very honestly. I felt like while I knew my side of the story, I was missing out a big piece, something major that happened and I had no idea about.
And I would do everything in my hands if it were possible to reverse time and take me back to that very moment that I decided to leave. I would have begged my old self to stay and fight like I had always done instead of walking away. I'd do anything I could even now, to just relive those moments once again.
But alas, time once lost, never returns.
"You don't have to," He said, "Can I just ask you for something?"
"Anything." I agreed in an instance. I should be the one asking for his forgiveness.
"Can we just forget everything for a moment?" He asked, "Can we just forget that you left or that I'm angry or that you have to tell me something or I have to know something? Let's just leave all of it aside for a while and be you and me again. We never got to say a proper goodbye. We never got to put a final epilogue to the story we once started."
I stared at him, not knowing what to say. What was he implying?
"And what do you want us to do?" I ask, desperately wanting to do anything to gain his forgiveness.
"You tell me that," he pointed, "I just want that when we return back, we do it with neutral terms, no grudges. I just want to let go of the past and free both of us of it."
"We have five days ahead of us, Manik," I propose, "Can we, for the next five days, forget about the mishap that happened and be us again? Let's just finish the incomplete story so that we can both move on in peace, and not with pieces of us lingering with each other, because no matter how much you deny it, I know pieces of the past and me are still lingering with you too."
"I–...." He began, but nothing came out, "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," I said, "I just want you to be the nineteen year old Manik so that I can be the eighteen year old Nandini once again, and we can live this five days like college; no talks about the past, just us. And when we're back from Paris, we fall back to our routine but this time, with a proper end, the way it was supposed to be. I offer you that."
"I'd love that," the words left his mouth before I could comprehend. A wide grin spread on his lips, "I would really, really love nothing more than to give you a closure and receive mine."
"Does that–" I hesitate, "Does that mean you can forgive me someday."
He stood for a moment, before his eyes bare straight into mine, "I don't think so."
Hurt spreads over my face as my heart falls. Perhaps that was too much to ask for.
"I'm sorry," he immediately retarded, reading my expressions, "I just think–"
I cut him off, "It's okay." I press my eyes. He gives me a surprised look.
"Maybe one day, you will find it in yourself to forgive me. I know that anger and hatred can't just disappear overnight, but I'm sure we'll get there some day. Baby steps. It's going to be a long time, but I have all the time in the world; because you're right here, and this time, I am too." I smile back.
I knew my words caught him surprised and he gives me a smile, without bothering to hide his amusement.
Even if just for five days, we're doing this again.
And this time, I'll do it just right.
✿
We spent rest of the journey completing the presentation together. Turns out, when your heart is calm, your mind finds peace too.
The plane journey was short. When we got down, we were assisted by Manik's chauffeur to the car, and the next car ride was barely seven minutes.
Paris was beautiful. The air, the vibe, it was so different from anything I had ever come across. It screamed exquisiteness, fashion, posh and beauty in a way I couldn't quite collect. The sky was a dark shade of purple and blue with no clouds but samples of stars, adding to the beauty of the lighted city in a way that made my heart warm. It's crazy to think how the world shares the sky yet the one overhead at Paris was easy amongst the most beautiful nights I have ever lived.
I was content when Manik looked over to me with a smile to make sure I was okay and I smiled back in assurance, so I didn't ask Manik where we were going, but my question was answered when we stopped by a huge house.
"That's my house," he smiled as we got off his car, "It's actually my grandmother's. She loved Paris."
The word grandmother brought back a picture in my mind: Amms. But I pushed it back in the back of my mind the moment it came, not ashamed to accept that I enjoyed this illusion. I enjoyed pretending that this was still college times and everything was fine, that Abhi and Amms were still in Mangalore and I and Manik had just driven back home from college, teasing each other and waiting to meet out friends the next day. For a moment, I let myself believe that my life was fine and not falling apart from everywhere.
I should've been ashamed to be wanting to live in an illusion for the next five days but I wasn't. I wasn't in the least bit embarrassed.
For five years, I kept running away from the truth, I tried doing everything from making me remember the old days again to avoid one simple fact: it made me happy.
Manik made me happy. And this time, I was not running away from that.
"Your house is beautiful," I smiled, as we walked inside, the chauffeur carting our bags. It took me a minute to take in the finest of furniture and interior designs in the two storey big house he had, and if this had to speak for anything, it would be his grandmother's beautiful choice.
"Thank you," He smiled back, "It's actually entirely designed by my grandmother herself. She's out of town at the moment, but we might get to meet her on our last day here."
I nodded back, still in awe of the beauty everywhere. He chuckled, "I have your bags settled in that room. My room is just across the hall." I nodded again.
"Dinner?" He asked, pointing at all the dishes ready on the large dining table beside the kitchen.
"Yes please," I smiled, "But maybe I could go freshen up first?"
He nodded instantly. "Of course. I'll take a shower too and wait for dinner."
I gave him a smile before moving to my room. It didn't even look like a guest room to be honest, the interiors were like that of a palace. It had a huge bed with stands and transparent curtains, and a big dressing room in front of a walk-in wardrobe attached to the bathroom.
This, most honestly, felt like a dream. I took forever standing under the warm and relaxing shower and then changed into my nightsuit. I was in my pyjamas but the Manik I knew wouldn't care.
And he didn't, when I walked out. He was himself in his jogger's and no tee shirt, cooking something on the stove, his back facing me.
I repeat, no shirt.
I repeat, no fucking shirt, his bare back and muscles on display in front of me.
"You can take a picture, sunshine; I'm sure it'll last longer," I knew he was smirking as he turned back and there– he was. Hah. How did he even know I was standing there?
I knew 'sunshine' slipped out of his mouth accidentally for the way he stopped there for a moment as if a truck of memories that hit me had hit him too; but he decided to go on and taunt me and not let that smirk slip off his face.
"I wasn't even looking at you," I lied, looking everywhere but at him as I walked towards the dining. I was, one hundred percent, fangirling over his built silhouette.
"You know I'm irresistible," he smirked, bringing something in a plate to the table where I was sitting as I leaned ahead to see what. Pancakes.
He remembered I love his pancakes.
It couldn't be just a fluke, right?
Or maybe it was just a fluke.
I mean, no man would be crazy enough to cook pancakes after spending hours in the flight and the airport; especially not for a girl he considers his friend just for five days.
"Hey, I was joking," he called softly, thinking it was him who upset me. I was about to retaliate when I noticed he had already worn his sweat shirt. Never mind.
"I know," I grinned, pulling back the smile on my face.
"So..," He trailed, putting himself food while I followed, "Is there anything particular you want to do in Paris?"
"Yup," I said heavily, stuffing my mouth with the pancake, "Eiffel Tower, ofcourse, And Louvre Museum. Except that, I want to go to designer boutiques, ancient exhibits, laid back modern bistros,........"
"Alright," he laughed, cutting me off. "After the presentation tomorrow, you can go anywhere you like."
"Wouldn't you come with me?" I asked, my eyes slightly wide. "You want me to?" He sounded surprised.
"Of course," I said, smiling big. "I'm new to this beautiful city. You're my host. Treat me well, would you?"
"Is that a challenge, Ms. Murthy?" He raised his brows, teasing.
"No!" I say instantly. "It wasn't meant as a challenge or anything. I was just– I just– I...." I panicked. I knew he was teasing but I couldn't afford him being hurt or unhappy.
I couldn't leave another person who I cared about disappointed in me.
My words had trailed and I looked everywhere, not knowing what to say or what not to. Do I apologise? Or should I just shut up, having done enough?
He just stared at me, for more than a minute, and I looked straight at my food. When it had been a long time, I looked up at him nervously, and he was still looking at me with piercing gaze as if analysing the way I breathe or something.
I took a deep breath before opening my mouth again, "Why– Why are you looking at me that way?"
"I'm just looking at how much I have to fix in this five days," he said looking at me right in my eye, making me flinch.
"F–Fix what?" I stammered, playing dumb as I continued to look down and eat food silently. He kept looking at me.
"You," He said, not even bothering to hide.
"There's nothing to fix. You're overthinking it all–" I started but he cut me off.
"No," he asserted, "Who even did this to you?"
"There's nothing wrong with me, Manik," I asserted back, defensive.
"There is," he replied, "You're scared. You think I– no one notices but you're scared. I don't understand, leaving because your grandmother died was your choice, then why?"
"You're speaking utter nonsense you have no idea about–," I shouted.
"So that's your thing then?" He riled, "Anger. You think being angry would push people away and you'd be left to yourself and those big, big walls you've made around yourself would be standing strong–"
I cut him off this time, afraid because he was speaking the truth. "Shut up!" I shouted, the tears of anger, frustration, sadness– all threatening to fall. "Stop putting this on me. If anything, it is you who's made those stop walls around yourself. Leaving you was my decision and there is nothing wrong with me. If anything, it is you who's changed."
He nodded negatively in disappointment, "Whatever happened changed who I am from the outside. It made me stronger, tougher. But whatever happened with you, it changed you from the inside. You're scared. Of what? I don't know. And now that I keep my anger aside and look at you, you're more vulnerable than you're showing. You're breaking apart, Nandini and still trying to be strong. And that's a good thing but it's proving to be toxic for you."
"I'm not breaking apart, Manik," I smiled, tears blazing in my eyes, "I already broke apart a long time ago, my life scattered into a hundred pieces and some of them are lost now and no, no matter what I do, I can't bring it back but the least I can do is assemble the ones remaining. It's taken me a lot to do that, to build these walls around me and to push everyone away and I am not going to allow you inside. I can't do this to myself again knowing it'll hurt just as much when you leave again and it might sound very, very selfish but I don't want to put myself through the pain again. I'm sorry."
I don't give him a chance to speak. "And what about you? What about how you should be so angry that I left you? You don't get to let me play the victim Manik. What I did hurt you and made you angry and I know you hate me for that. It's okay, because I deserve the blame, all of it."
My tears flew out and I just kept staring at my lap and crying silently.
I don't get to play the victim.
I don't get to make this about me.
It's me who's hurt him, hurt them all.
I should be the one fixing him.
Because I deserve the blame.
I'm the reason Abhi died.
I'm the reason it all happened.
I–
I didn't even realise Manik had walked from his chair to mine and he was kneeling down in my chair, his hands gently holding my knee as my tears fell into his hands. He looked at me with an unfathomable expression, but when I refused to look at him, he wrapped his hands around mine as he jerked me to stand up.
I tried pushing him away as he stepped forward, probably looking like a mess as I violently tried hitting him and pushing him hit his hands held mine firmly as he pulled me towards him. My head hit his chest and his hands wrapped around my back and the more I pushed him, the tighter he held me.
"Get away!" I shouted, "I'm cursed. You hear that? Cursed."
I kept chanting that, hoping he would leave me but when he just held me firmer, I gave away. I stopped pushing him and just stood there numb, absorbing his touch and warmth after five whole years.
"You're not cursed," he said softly, his chin resting on my head as he felt that I stopped protesting.
"I am," I said, emotionlessly, "Whoever I get close to, they die. Wherever I go, death follows."
"Who the fuck said that to you?" He was mad, but he did not let go of me. I did not answer, just brought my hands up to wrap it back weakly, hiding my face in his chest, clutching his shirt tightly. "Nandini, if this is the reason you left, to protect us, to protect me, then I swear to you, I'm just angrier at you."
I didn't reply back. I just let myself break apart in his arms.
"I'm okay," I whisper, asking him to let go of me. I didn't want to be a liability.
"You're not okay," he said, holding me even closer if that was possible, "And that's okay too."
I knew that. If there was one thing I learnt from him, it was this.
"I'm okay," I insisted again, my fear of being a burden taking over.
"No," he refused to let go of me.
Five years had passed.
What we had between us had changed.
The world had changed. We had changed.
But there was thing at the moment that I was very, very sure of.
I could let myself break apart in front of him, and still be sure he'll put me back again. If there was anyone in this would who could collect my broken pieces and even make a small attempt at making me whole again, it would be him.
It was always him.
Sometimes, two people have to fall apart
to realise how much they need to
fall back together.