Arnav stormed into his sister's room. If it was any other day, he would have waited for her permission to enter, he would have seen that she had had a long day just like him, he would have noticed the plate of food, her dinner, lying untouched on the bedside table.
But it wasn't any other day; it was a devastating day.
It was the day he mustered up the courage to visit the girl he loved after three long treacherous weeks; it was day he saw her more shattered than ever before; it was the day he understood he had wronged her perhaps as much as she was wronged by her father.
It was a day he would never forget.
Anjali looked up from the book she was reading. "What's wrong? Why are you soaking wet?"
"You knew," he breathed, stopping a foot from her bed. "You knew Khushi's mother passed away three weeks ago."
Anjali's face hardened. She set down the book and said coldly, "And?"
"And you didn't think it was important enough to tell me that the girl I loved needed me?"
She snorted. "So Khushi is the girl you love now? That was a quick transition from being your brother's girlfriend."
Arnav took a deep breath, struggling to contain his frustration. "This is not the time-"
"Oh, yes it is!" she interrupted, her delicate features contorting into rage. "It is just the time to discuss how ridiculous you have been acting for the past three weeks!"
"Anju," he warned.
"Oh, stop it Bhai!" she answered, rolling her eyes. "Stop pretending that you are the older one, that you know better than us. Because you don't."
Arnav was too livid to speak.
If truth be told, he was expecting it. He hadn't so much as looked at her for the past three weeks, preferring to pour all his time locked up in his study, absorbed in work so he could ignore the longing burning inside him. It was only when he received a call from a nearby hospital two days ago, carrying the news of her accident, that he realized just how foolish he was to ignore the only sibling who still had any sort of respect left for him.
"You could've just told me," he finally muttered, looking into her accusatory eyes.
Anjali crossed her arms. "Why should I have told you Bhai?"
Arnav was sorely reminded of his mother. She too used the same stance every time she reprimanded him for doing something wrong.
"I begged you," she continued. "I begged you not to do something stupid that day, I told you not give up because Akash is your brother, but you went ahead and did it anyway. You ignored everything you were putting at stake because you cared more for your brother than you did for the girl you love!"
He rolled his hands into fists. It was so much worse hearing what he had done said out loud.
"But I still tried anyway," Anjali said. "I waited all evening that day to tell you what had happened. But you never came home. You didn't pick up my calls and neither did you think it was important to tell me where you were."
He closed his eyes. He had spent that fateful day in his favorite nursery just outside the city limits. It was the only place that kept the suffocation of his actions at bay, that gave him the space to understand the consequences of his choice. He had returned home late, determined not to regret his decision to stay away from Khushi, to find his sister pacing the living room.
Anjali pressed on. "And when you finally did come, all I got was "it's over" before you locked yourself up in your study... for three weeks. What did you expect me to do?!"
Never, even in his wildest dreams, did Arnav imagine this to be the outcome of his decision that night. He had assumed –woefully– that Anjali wanted to discuss what he had done to Khushi. Having no interest in what would have been a painful conversation, he retired to his room, not realizing that his sister wanted to tell him something else entirely.
How ignorant could he be?!
"You talk so much about doing the right thing na Bhai, but did you ever stop and think what that right thing was? Khushi loves you. More than she knows as far as I can tell. And you just let her go like she wasn't worth anything, like she was just another person who had the misfortune of crossing paths with you!"
His shoulders fell in defeat.
"And if that's what you were planning to do since the beginning, what was the point of isolating yourself from everyone? Do you have any idea what I have been through these past three weeks?! Akash was gone – I had no idea where the hell he was. And even though you were here, you were just as much absent. In both of your haste to prove the other wrong, you forgot that there is someone else in this family too!"
Arnav watched his little sister, feeling as if she suddenly grew up. "I'm sorry," he whispered, dragging himself to the bed and flopping down with a sigh.
He was exhausted.
"I don't need your sorry Bhai," she replied curtly. "Whatever happens between you and Akash should stay between you and Akash. It's not my fault or Khushi's that we care for both of you. Not just one."
"I know," he said, burying his face in his hands. "I never wanted to let her go. My conscience didn't let me live in peace even for a second in these three weeks, because I knew I broke her heart into a million pieces... she trusted me, probably the only one after her brother. But I still did it because I knew she could survive. She could survive this... and Akash couldn't."
Anjali didn't reply.
"But I was wrong. Seeing her today... talking to her... she is so hurt, so guilt-ridden. She has been let down by so many people in her life that it's a miracle she is still standing on her two feet. And instead of helping her, I did the worst thing I possibly could've; I let her down too."
Her face softened considerably. "Bhai..."
"I know it's too late," he said, looking down at the carpeted floor. "I can't fix what's already broken."
"We only break to be put back together... you told me that."
He gulped. "I don't know if I can. I don't think I can ever win back her trust. I know she will never say it, but she will never be able to forget that I abandoned her during the worst time of her life."
Anjali had no answer to that. He didn't expect one either, for all Arnav could think about was Khushi's tears as she poured out her grief that evening. How much he wished he could just swallow her misery and make it disappear. There was probably nothing in the world he wouldn't give to see her happy and whole again.
He felt Anjali's hand on his shoulder. "I may not know much about your relationship Bhai," she said soothingly. "But the fact that she talked to you today, instead of shutting you out like what she has been doing all these days is a good sign. It means she forgives you or at least will consider forgiving you."
He snorted. "She slammed the door on my face when she first saw me. I hardly consider that a good sign."
Anjali unexpectedly giggled.
"It's not funny."
"Well, what did you expect her to do?" she said, failing miserably to contain her smile. "Run into your arms?"
"Why are you so amused by this?"
"Because I can't imagine anyone shutting the door on the famous Arnav Singh Raizada, let alone the girl he madly loves."
Arnav shrugged. "Well there is a first time for everything."
"Clearly. So, is Khushi... okay now?"
"As okay as anyone who lost a parent will ever be."
Anjali nodded, the grin falling from her face. "Shyam is so worried for her... she doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep. She barely talks to anyone. It's been a rough three weeks."
Arnav's stomach knotted in guilt.
"I wanted to tell you so many times," she continued. "I thought maybe she would feel better talking to you, but Shyam wouldn't let me."
A line appeared on his forehead.
"You left her," she explained. "How would you feel if Shyam did the same with me."
The knot in his stomach tightened even more.
"I tried to convince him, but he was going through enough as it is... I didn't want to push him. Besides, I didn't even know if Khushi wanted to see you. She was so lost the last time I tried talking to her. I didn't even know if she heard at least half of what I said."
"It will take time," he murmured finally. "A long time for her to get used to it all."
She sighed desolately. "I just feel so helpless... I can't do anything except visit them everyday. I don't get through to Khushi and the fact that I can't, pushes Shyam away even more. The only thing I do is make sure he is eating and sleeping on time. There is nothing he wants to say and there is nothing I can say..."
Arnav placed his hand in hers. "I'm sure the fact that you are there makes all the difference in the world."
She half-smiled, though the worry was still etched on her face.
"Speaking of which, didn't Shyam visit you even once in the last two days?"
Anjali pressed her lips.
"He does know that you got into an accident, right?"
"Yes, he knows," she answered, hesitant. "But with Akash back... I didn't want to risk it."
Something else ringed in Arnav's mind at that. "Did you know Akash broke up with Khushi?"
It took a moment for the news to sink in, but when it did Anjali's mouth hung open. "He did what?" she shrieked. "After all that yelling he broke up with her?!"
Arnav nodded. "The same day her mother passed away actually. It couldn't have been a more awful timing."
She clamped her mouth in horror. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled. "So, she thought both of you broke up-"
"Yeah."
Anjali fell into a deep silence. It seemed, like he, even she struggled to comprehend the drastic turn of events. Arnav vaguely wondered if Shyam knew the full details of what had transpired that day; but no sooner than the thought hit, he quickly dismissed it. Even if Shyam didn't know, he was sure to find out by the end of day. Arnav could only imagine his anger upon finding out his sister was abandoned by two of her closest people.
"When Akash comes back from his dinner," Anjali said suddenly, in a resolute voice. "I'm going to kill him."
* * *
Khushi stared out the window, feeling the air pulse with a life of its own. It was the day after her conversation with Arnav and for the first time since her mother's demise, she could think about something other than that day. It was if someone suddenly turned up the volume and she was back in the hustle bustle of everyday life.
Of course, it wasn't perfect. She still preferred her seat beside the window, she still refused to answer Jaya's useless questions and she still wanted to mourn in complete silence. It would be a long time before she could even think about changing her routine, but for now the fact that she could acknowledge all that was enough.
The doorbell echoed through the quiet house. Like a reflex, she rose to answer.
"Good morning Ma'am," greeted a courier boy. "I have a parcel for Khushi Kumari Gupta."
Khushi took the package –a lanky silver-colored rectangular box– curiously and signed the receipt of delivery, before closing the door. Upon opening it, a glittering white fabric rolled out, which she realized was a one-shouldered, knee-length dress, embellished with beautiful gems. A note was clipped to the hem of the neck. It read:
For graduation.
A ginger smile spread across her lips. Even without having memorized the curvy handwriting in what felt like another lifetime altogether, Khushi knew who wrote it. It seemed his habit of not leaving a name was yet to change.
"Who was it Meeti?" came Shyam's voice from behind.
She delicately folded the dress back into the box. "A delivery boy. There was a parcel for me."
"What is it?"
"A gift," she answered, striding back into the living room.
He followed. "A gift from Arnav Singh Raizada?"
Khushi froze. Did she hear right?
"Does he honestly think forgiveness can be bought by an expensive gift?"
Having no other choice, she hesitantly turned around. Shyam was standing with folded arms, a look of disapproval plastered on his face.
Khushi held her breath. "You know."
He took his time to answer. "You used to cry a lot as a baby Meeti. No one really understood why. Everyone would hopelessly try different things until something or the other calmed you down. By the time you were two years old, they had the protocol down: every time you cried, they would hand you off to me."
An odd silence rang through room.
"Because I could understand what was wrong. I didn't need you to tell me what you wanted. I just knew, just like how I know now. And I will always know Meeti, even if you choose to hide it."
Khushi suddenly relaxed. If it was a few days ago, she might have felt guilt pooling in her veins, but now, in light of everything they have been through, she felt nothing but relief. The messy, awkward part about coming clean with her brother was over without her even having to try.
"I didn't choose to hide it," she finally said, curling up on the beige colored sofa. "I just couldn't tell you."
Shyam looked at her, a line on his forehead.
"He is Akash's brother... it wasn't meant to work out."
"And he saw to that, didn't he?" he muttered, sitting down across from her. "He walked away before you both even had a chance. Some nerve he has sending you that dress."
Khushi felt odd to hear that. Why did her brother sound so... accusatory? "You are angry," she concluded, finally being able to pinpoint his mood.
"Of course I am angry!" he replied. "He left you, without thinking even twice what it meant. What kind of a man does that make him?"
"It makes him a brother."
"It makes him a coward. Haven't you learned anything from Maa?"
"I did learn Bhaiyya, which is why I know he trusted me to understand."
Shyam was stunned. "Are you actually defending him?"
She stopped short. She defending Arnav? Was that even possible? She looked out the window, trying to train her thoughts. "I... I am not defending him... I'm just explaining his point of view."
"So you are okay to understand his point of view, but you don't want to let me understand yours?"
Khushi felt her stomach drop. She turned to her brother, who sat meekly still, a stricken expression on his face.
"I lost her too Meeti," Shyam murmured, looking down at his lap. "She meant just as much to me, as she did to you. But now it feels like I am losing you too..."
She gulped.
"I get it that you are hurt... and when I say that, I don't mean it in the way that everyone has been telling you, I mean it in a way that means you are not alone. I have watched her more times than you Meeti... I called the ambulance more times than I can remember... I know what it feels like."
Khushi felt her throat seize up.
"But do you know how I got through that?"
She blinked.
"It was you. You are the reason I got through all that. Because every time I was convinced I lost her, I kept reminding myself that I still had you. I told myself over and over again that you shouldn't have my fate; that you deserved at the very least to have someone look after you, someone who could do the growing up for you..."
He finally looked up. She was shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes.
"I have seen enough for a lifetime Meeti... You are the only family I have left a-and I can't lose you too."
It was as if her mind suddenly cleared. Khushi stood up, determined to cross the few feet that wrenched them apart in the last couple of days. She settled down next to her brother, winding her arm around his and resting her head on his shoulder. She felt him reach out to hold her hand, clutching it as if his life depended on it. And she knew that it did, because if there was anything her brother couldn't tolerate, it was the thought that he failed her.
And if there was anything she couldn't tolerate, it was letting him feel that way.
Khushi didn't know how long they sat there, never uttering a single word. As odd as it was, the silence seemed to do all the talking for them.
"Do you remember the time you tried to explain to me what handcuffs were?" she finally said.
He took a moment to answer. "Wasn't it the day the divorce got finalized?"
Khushi nodded. "Yeah... and I was complaining about that guy making fun of me in school."
"It was Pranav, right?"
"Yeah, I think so. But do you know what you said to me then?"
She lifted her head to look up at his blank face. "You said if Pranav ever made fun of me again, you would beat him up."
Shyam smiled at the memory.
"That's how I know you will never lose me Bhaiyya... because you are the only one who knows how to take care of me. And if it wasn't for you, some Pranav would still be making fun of me."
It seemed he had no words for an answer, for he simply kissed her forehead. But for Khushi, it was enough because she knew she was forgiven. Relieved, she said:
"So now that we proved I am not completely heartless, can I ask you something?"
"You are not-"
"Why didn't you tell me about Anjali?"
Shyam froze, shocked at her blatancy. "H-how...?"
"Save it. You are not the only one how can be clever in this family. The point is why did you go out of your way to hide it? From what I heard, it's been going on for a while."
He sighed. "I... I didn't want to keep it a secret. I was just waiting for the right moment. Things were chaotic with the chemo, your internship, my cases... I felt it was almost selfish to bring up our relationship."
The little bit of anger she had been struggling to hold on at him, vanished without a trace.
"But with all that waiting, I lost the chance to tell Maa..."
Khushi leaned on his shoulder. "You know what I think? We should stop feeling guilty – a lot of the things in our lives aren't our faults."
He didn't reply.
"You wanted the right moment. It never came. So what? That doesn't make this any less important. Maa would've been happy then, and if she was here, she would be happy now."
Shyam rested his head atop hers. "You sure grew up fast Meeti."
She smiled. "So tell me – how is she like?"
"Who, Anjali? She is... hmm... I actually don't know. She is sweet; she cares about everything around her, whether it's her work, her precious flowers, her brothers... She is the type of person you would want to meet on a really bad day, she makes everything just disappear. She is very innocent; sometimes I feel like I need to just hide her away for her own good. There is so much more, but I don't think I will ever stop if I start. So why don't you just meet her –properly– and see for yourself."
The only thing Khushi heard in all of that was the affection in her brother's voice and it told her everything she needed to know: He loved Anjali and even if she, Khushi, tried, she will never understand why.
"It was actually Anjali who wanted to keep this quiet," he continued. "She was waiting for Akash to come back... so she could tell him and Arnav about us. Of course, that meant I couldn't tell you because you would tell-"
"Me and Akash broke up."
Shyam sat up, jolted. "What?"
She stared at her hands, avoiding his eye. "After he read that article in the New Delhi Times, he thought I-I cheated on him. So that day, before I went to see Amma, we met up a-and he broke up with me..."
Silence.
Khushi stubbornly kept her eyes down, not daring to look at her brother. She already felt so guilty for pushing him away, she couldn't face his reaction upon finding out she hid much more than her grief at their mother's passing.
"I guess that was coming," he finally said.
She was surprised. "It was... but it happened for all the wrong reasons."
Shyam stood up, and walked to the window she took refuge beside for so long.
"Don't worry," she continued, not knowing what to make of his silence. "I don't feel bad for what happened. I had it coming after all that I have done..."
He was quiet.
"Really Bhaiyya, I'm fine-"
"I know when you lie to me Meeti," he interrupted, still keeping his back to her. "Even those times you had sleepovers" –his hands made quotation marks in the air– "at Lavanya's house."
She looked away.
"So why don't you tell me what you are really thinking?"
"I... I don't want to think any-"
"Do you love him?"
The question was so direct, so unexpected that Khushi was dumbfounded. She didn't know how to answer him. Upon receiving no reply, Shyam glanced back and said:
"Is the answer so complicated? Or are you confused who I am talking about?"
She shook her head. "I know who you are talking about. It's the question that is complicated, not the answer."
"Okay, let me simplify it then – can you love him despite knowing that he is always going to pick his brother over you?"
Khushi stared out the window, his words bringing forth the turmoil she had successfully avoided since meeting Arnav last night. But it seemed bringing it out into the open was not of much use, because her answer was the same as it was yesterday:
She did not know.