Why had she come here, to this room, this place where he came to leave everything behind? A place that was a reminder that he had not always been the Maan Singh Khurana; a man who never displayed his vulnerabilities, who never smiled, who shielded himself from his emotions, keeping everything and everyone at a distance. It was a memorial to who he had once been, a testimonial to the journey that made him who he was.
He kept his feelings locked away inside, just like he did those reminders from his past -hidden away in this room; as if the physical evidence of his past hurt, his mistakes, would somehow stop him; stop him from hurting himself again, from leading himself astray again. They reminded him never to open the doors to his heart again; locked like the doors of this room, the keys to which only he held.
What more did she want? Had she not pushed him far enough; away from her and away from who he had become around her, from who he wanted to be with her, for her. Had she not broken him enough; that she had to come to this room, to leave her imprint, always to remind him of what could have been but was not.
In telling her how he would not trust another innocent face, other beguiling eyes; he had told her, how much he had in fact trusted her; entrusting her with his heart, his vulnerabilities. How he had looked for his missing self in her, wanting to feel complete with her. Even now, she held the power to affect him; with her downcast eyes and her soft spoken words. Why, oh why could he not let it go?
He wanted to make her feel some of the pain that he was going through; scar her heart some, the way she had wounded his. And so, he had stopped her; stopped her to remind her, that there never had been an "us". But instead, it had merely served as a reminder to him that he himself had been wrong. Wrong in feeling what he did, in reading what he thought he saw in her eyes, in thinking there ever could be a "them". His anger, hurt and frustration rose once again, making him want to lash out at her, to outwardly let her know how unaffected he was by her. He had then given her, her freedom - freedom to leave, freedom to walk away from them; letting her know there were no bonds to keep her here.
And then, he had waited. Waited, compelled by his foolish heart, for her answer, waited to see if she really was as unaffected by it as she would have him believe. Her eyes seemed to tell him that she was indeed affected; showing a hurt, a momentary flash of pain. But then, her words along with her seemingly forced smile had dismissed it as a deception of his mind. He realized, he should have known better than to try and read her eyes and glean something that did not exist. It was then that he had left; left her standing, amongst his memories, his mistakes and his past – to be a part of his past.
He had let her go, freed her from her responsibilities, giving her - her Freedom. Freedom to sink into despair, to grieve, to mourn the loss of what could have been; to love him and expect nothing in return, to let him go, to rejoice in his happiness. Freedom to hold him in her heart; like the taveez held Babaji's blessings.
Her love for him was a compulsion she could not deny; but she would not let him get dragged down for it. She would fight with him for him, his joy, his happiness; even if it meant hurting the one she loved. She knew, he might have understood if she had revealed her reasons, even loved her despite them, but her love for him could not accept that, would not let her embroil him in the turmoil that was her life. Knowing he needed perfection– be it in his work, his partner in life or anything else and she was not that perfection, she could not be his Perfect Imperfection.
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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