SS: Abandoned Eyes. Note pg 58. - Page 22

a bit sad for khushi and arnav...
please update soon...
please pm me for updates...

Originally posted by: Juicee_Sushie

Have just picked up this SS & loving it!!!

Love your Arnav in this trying to be Khushi to bring her back to life again!!!

I am certainly interested in what Khushi is up to & what has put her into this catatonic like state (I know Shyam is involved but enough to change her personality so drastically into this mental condition I'm not so sure)!!!

Very much looking forward to the next update!

Originally posted by: Juicee_Sushie

Have just picked up this SS & loving it!!!

Love your Arnav in this trying to be Khushi to bring her back to life again!!!

I am certainly interested in what Khushi is up to & what has put her into this catatonic like state (I know Shyam is involved but enough to change her personality so drastically into this mental condition I'm not so sure)!!!

Very much looking forward to the next update!

For Khushi her pride means everything. Wait you will know the whole story.

Note:

A big Thank You for bearing with me and the irregular update habits. I apologize to keep you waiting.

The silver lining to all the waiting is once that I am done with submission I am FREEE!!!! And you can have updates more often.

Special thanks to Sanz, made me break my resolve and start writing before the 30^th. Also, to DM1810 she has been proofreading stuff so that you can get early updates. i just made a banner for this story. Do tell me how is it!!!😛

Chapter Six

Falling into an Abyss

"She associated darkness with fear.

Today, darkness shrouded her in its arms,

Shielding the blows of loneliness."

***

"Hum apse pyaar karte hai Arnavji! Kya aap bhi'"

She whispered into the dark empty room clutching the phone to her chest. Each time the call had died, it had physically hurt her. No pain inflicted could match the hurt she felt after the 15^th call to him within an hour.

She had said it then, to make him come back. Admit defeat in this battle.

"Humme farak padta hai, Arnavji."

Maybe it did not matter anymore. After all, he had said it himself hadn't he? He had cared and she had failed.

"Kahin na kahin main chahta that tum apne aap ko prove karo."

***

Time was the worst enemy. Utilization and realization of the right opportunity was the key to succeed over it. Yet, be bound in its shackles, live in its mercy.

She had missed on one such opportunity. An occasion lay out in her path to profess her love and hear it return. Today, her words returned a cool silence. She played the scene out again in her mind, ifs and what ' could have ' been, interjecting their dialogue.

"Tum theek ho?

Tum ne yeh bhi nahi socha tumhare bina mera kya hota?"

"Apko kyo fark padta hai?"

"Mujhe farak padta hai' Dammit -"

She had seen the pain and anguish in his eyes, the relief in his features to hold her close and the yearning in his words. Would it have been different if she would have comforted him instead of challenging him? Allowed him to care for her rather than withdraw? Agreed to his claim on her rather than refuting it?

***

She needed to hear his voice even if it held accusations.

Five days had gone by without him and she didn't know how she had managed it. She could account for each minute of each day but time had stood still for her since the minute he had turned and left.

"Aap ke bina hamare saasein rukh'" she had not completed her sentence, today she wished she had.

"Aap sach mein jaa rahein hai? Mat jaiye'"

Love was a rose bush with thorns. To feel love you had to suffer the pricks.

She had suffered intensely in the last five days, fighting was her nature but with him around she had found renewed strength. She felt protected when they were together and belonged giving her the courage to fight.

The last five days have drained her not just of her energy but also her will. The feeling that he had let go of her, killing her with each passing hear beat.

***

Each color holds a meaning.

She loved colors for they reminded her of her childhood, of her mother and her colored bangles, stories of the pots of gold under the rainbow, of fairs she had visited with her father and the stars.

Over the years she had associated colors to people, the way she perceived them. Her Amma and babuji were white ' pure, Jiji was yellow ' sunny and Arnavji was navy blue. His eyes reflected the expanses of the ocean under a starry night, deep and magnificent.

But, without her she felt empty, colorless. Nothing held meaning and so she needed to hear his voice. Her heart called out to him and she knew he could hear her.

***

Memories were her sweet companions.

"Tumhari aur meri dhakane mil jati hai"

He may have not remembered but she did. Hope shone from those words; he felt the same as her. He had answered more than one question that day.

The day had been colored with so many colors and she had been smeared with red. His favorite color - a symbol of love; his love.

Today, the words sounded far and distant. She could no longer hold on to them, draw strength to continue.

She needed him and only him.

***

She sat on his bed surrounded by the tit bits he had left behind ' the white shirt he liked, the discarded towel, an unimportant file and his pillow. His scent still lingered in them, but steadily fading.

Tears welled up in her eyes when these objects did not give comfort and slid to soil his impeccable white shirt. May be he would hold even this against her?

She called him a final time hoping he would answer it missing someone entering the room because of the darkness.

"Khusshiii" the man stumbled in his stupor trying to reach the object of his fascination. He had waited too long for this day.

***

Arnav felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest as he avoided taking her calls. It was nearly midnight in India, why was she not asleep? Was she ill?

Pain seeped into his limbs at the thought of her in distress but he held himself; distracting himself with the faint clink of the ice cubes colliding in his Scotch.

They said alcohol was poison for people with Diabetes, but somehow after one to many, it relieved the constant pain he felt in his heart; like he could breathe again.

He knew why, but he would do nothing about it.

His pain was Khushi and his balm was Khushi.

***

I really hope you like it. Its been a while since I wrote.

Likes, comments and criticism alike. Do leave in your thoughts.

Nice update loved it

Emotional yet lovely..

wow that was beautifully written