OS Series- Vignettes - Part 8. This day, that year - Page 2

Hello all!

Here comes the eighth part.

A peek into the past...This is a long piece, long enough that I wondered whether I should break it into two posts. But I couldn't figure out a way to do that without ruining the emotions that i was trying to bring out.

This is a very emotional piece and took a lot out of me. So, please do take the time to let me know how you find it.

He didn't know what to do, how to prepare. The topic hadn't been discussed much, well, actually never, and it was by chance that he'd overheard Payal telling Anjali in the morning that it was "that" day tomorrow. Now that he knew, he couldn't help hovering, watching his wife like a hawk. Tomorrow would mark the sixteenth year since the passing of Khushi's parents.

According to Payal, who he had cornered after breakfast, Khushi preferred to not talk about it much, opting to go for a quiet pooja in the Mandir and spending the reminder of the day as per her usual routine. Payal voiced her regret at the fact that in spite of living with Khushi for over fourteen years, she had never been able to get her sister to share her pain on this day. This time, however, Anjali had convinced Khushi to have the pooja at home, so that the entire family could be there for her.

Unsure of how to make himself useful, he'd made it a point to reach home early, so that he would be around whenever his wife needed him. Khushi had been surprised to see him sitting in the dining room when she came downstairs with Anjali.

"Chotte, when did you reach? And you're sitting here quietly without having yelled for your wife? Anything wrong? You two didn't have a fight, did you?"

Looking at his wife who was eyeing him suspiciously, Arnav replied, "Nothing like that, Di. Mami had told me when I came that Khushi had gone upstairs with you just then, so I thought I'll wait till you guys come down."

"Hmm...ohhkay. Usually, it never bothers you that she comes running from God knows which corner of the house at your yell on reaching home...", she smirked but seeing Arnav starting to get irritated, quickly added, "Khushiji, I'll be in Nani's room. Do call me if you need anything..."

"Ji, thanks, Di."

As Anjali walked off, Khushi turned to her husband who had gone back to drinking his coffee quietly. "You okay? How come you're home so early? And why didn't you call me?"

"Nothing special, Khushi. Work got over early, so I came home. What were you doing with Di?"

Sitting down next to him and automatically starting to brush his hair away from his forehead, she replied, "I was just making sure that I had everything ready for tomorrow's pooja. I always do it at the temple. I'm keepiing it at home for the first time, nah. I need her guidance, so that nothing's left out."

Catching hold of her hand and resting it against his cheek, Arnav asked, "Khushi, are you okay? What can I do to help?"

"Arnavji, you came home early just for me, what more do I need. What do you think, I didn't knw that you'd called Di fifteen times today just to check on me?"

"I just can't bear to see you in pain, Khushi...", he said, softly placing a kiss on her hand which was still held captive against his cheek.

"I know...but I will be a bit sad, Arnavji, its the anniversary tomorrow. But you don't worry so much. I'll be okay. Haven't I been handling this alone for these many years? Just be with me, it makes facing everything easier if you are with me..."

Waiting until he finished his coffee, she said, "If you're done with your coffe, I'll just go see Nani. I have a lot of work pending for tomorrow."

Grabbing her into a bear hug before she got up and went to Nani's room, Arnav wished that the day would come and go quick. Khushi might be putting up a brave face, but he knew that neither this night, nor the next day would pass without him having to see her cry her heart out.

He also knew that she would keep away from him as much as possibble, lest she lose the iron-grip she had on herself and weaken in the face of his concern.

"She had already started doing it", he thought, as he watched her walk away. Her usual habit was to dance around him till he had changed and settled down, updating him of every detail about her day. But today, she'd walked off as soon as she could manage to do it, as if she was afraid of spending time with him.

He knew, since he'd gone through the same thing earlier in the year. He'd held himself together until Khushi came up to their room after the pooja. Having someone this close to your heart meant that in times of sadness, one glimpse of them can break-down your carefully built barriers. You might hold strong in front of everyone else, but with them, you desperately seek comfort, reassurance. So, until you have the luxury of doing it, you keep away from the refuge.

"We're much more alike than you think, Khushi..." Arnav murmured, sighing.

Deciding to leave her in Di and Nani's capable hands, he headed up to their room. Freshening up, he came back down and settled himself in the family area with the newspaper so that he could keep an eye on her. For an casual observer, there wouldn't have been any difference in Khushi's routine. She was, as usual, running around doing a million things at once, the preparations for the pooja apparently over. But to his well-trained eye, which had spent thousands of hours watching her, the forced quality in her laugh, in her chatter, was visible as day.

She was a little subdued when the family sat down to dinner. Her determined efforts to not catch his eye let him in on the fact that she was close to her limit. Taking care not to touch her or talk to her, Arnav finished his dinner quickly and went to his room. He waited by the poolside until he heard his wife come in and go to the washroom. Going back in, he got into bed and sat leaning against the headboard, waiting for her.

As Khushi came out, one glance at him holding out his hand to her was enough to make her throw the towel aside and rush headlong into his arms. The initial silence giving way to harsh gasps, she lay there, securely held against his chest. His heart breaking for her, Arnav did what he did best, gave his silent support. He'd seen Khushi weeping, all-out crying, but never in this state, where she wasn't shedding a single tear, but was all the more worse for it.

After a very long time, by when his wife had gone back to lying there silently, Arnav whispered, "Talk to me, sweetheart."

She didn't respond for so long, and lay so still, that he wondered whether she'd fallen asleep. Just as he was about to shift her to her pillow, she tightened her hold on him. "No. Please let me stay here with you a little while longer."

Eyes tearing at the rasping whisper, he crushed her to him, offering his warmth up for as long as she needed it. Speakig so softly that he had to strain to make out her words, she said, "We had a sweet little house. Small, a little away from the village, surrounded by fields. I've never told you, nah, my Babuji was the math teacher in Malhiabad school. And Amma, I thought of her as a fairy sent to the earth just for Babuji and I. Afterall, someone so beautigul, who sole intent was spreading joy, couldn't be anything but a fairy, right?"

The wistful tone wrecking havoc on his control over his emotions, Arnav listened quietly. He had a feeling that like him, after the accident, Khushi had moved on with a single-minded determination and had never allowed herself to think much about her life with her parents. She did talk to them, her stars, but she had kept a firm lid on the memories, the memories that would remind her of all that was lost, that would remind her that the stars would never come back down to meet her, to hold her.

"I had a cute little pet goat, Laddoo. That's why I love our Lakshmiji so much, she reminds me of my Laddoo." Pausing a beat, she added, "After everything happened, I had to leave her with my neighbour. What would she have done in the busy roads of Lucknow?"

Drawing a deep breath, she continued, "One day, after Amma had fallen ill, Babuji brought Mausi home to look after her. I was up on the mango tree behind our house when Amma called me. I kept quiet, watching her searching around for me. If I'd gone down, she would've seen the state pf my clothes and scolded me, nah?"

Almost smiling as he picturized a tiny Khushi sitting atop a mango tree, hiding the stains on her dress from her mother, Arnav kept listening quietly.

"Amma and Babuji were going somewhere. As they were leaving, I heard Babuji saying that Mausi would go back only after the child comes. I didn't even understand what child he was talking about. Then I got scared thinking that they'd become so fed up with my antics that they were going to bring home a new kid in my place."

"By the time I managed to climb down, so that I could ask them if that was what they were planning, they had already left. And...then...", Khushi stopped suddenly, breathing in short gasps, clutching his sweater tightly.

Almost choking on the words, she continued, "I didn't even understand that I was about to become a big sister. Babuji was taking Amma for her monthly check-up."

Oh Lord, there had been a third life lost that day, one that hadn't even had a chance to arrive into this world. Unmindful of the tears slowly dripping down his temple, Arnav rubbed her back, her shoulders, her arms, wishing that he could take away the pain, take it onto himself, anything that would spare her the agony.

"Shh...Khushi, you don't need to talk. Just...", his voice broke.

"Let me speak, Arnavji. Di had told me long ago that Mamma used to say that we should let out our tears and our pain, rather than keep them supressed. And you're the one person in my life who I can talk to like this. Let me talk, maybe I'll finally be able to breathe."

His pain at the agony almost becoming a physical ache, Arnav continued running his hands down her back, as if trying to rub away her suffering.

"One last time Amma had called me and I didn't go. Maybe, if I'd gone, she would've spent sometime in changing my clothes and missed that rickshaw..and maybe it wouldn't have been smashed by that speeding car...Or maybe, she would've taken me with her, and I wouldn't have been left alone like this..."

The monologue and the implied thought becoming unbearable to him, Arnav cried out, "Shhh, Khushi...why are you hurting yourself like this? You yourself tell me always, that we should remeber only the happy time from our past and let go of the sad. It was an accident, sweetheart. You couldn't have prevented it, it had nothing to do with you.'

Continuing as if she hadn't even heard him, she said,"A little while later, I saw the village head-man come running and say something to Musi, at whish she just screamed and fainted. Every single neighbour of ours came running, but no one thought of me. When Mausi regained consciousness and started crying taking my parents' and my name, they suddenly realised that I'm also there. But I couldn't understand what was happening."

Her voice suddenly turning child-like, Khushi said, "They brought Amma and babuji home the next day, but they didn't even look at me, maybe because they were asleep. And then they took them away. I tried a lot to make them stay, Arnavji, But no one listened to me...they took them away..."

Suddenly remembering the harsh words he had spoken to her the year before on the day of his parent's death anniversary, Arnav drew in a shuddering breath. She had known enough and more about what it feels like when the house is bereft of the two people who make it your home. And she had been hardly seven or eight, just a baby, unable to understand or process what had happened.

He felt a rush of gratitude to Garima and Shashi, who had taken in the broken child and made sure that she grew out of the tragedy, grew up to become a fine, strong, happy girl. It was nothing short of a miracle, Khushi being Khushi after all that she had suffered.

Weeping now, Arnav stroked her cheek, cradling her face against his heart. Feeling him shake, she looked up at him. Stunned to see his tears, she leaned up to wipe them away, "Don't cry, Arnavji...please, don't cry...". Unaware that tears had started flowing from her eyes too, she continued wiping his face, until he drew her down again.

Feeling his shuddering breaths, Khushi hugged him tight. She knew, just as it had been unbearable for her to witness his pain on his bad day, her husband was struggling to be strong for her.

Lying there silently, Khushi let her tears wash away the burning ache that had been building up inside her since morning, maybe, since the day she had lost her parents. Afterall, this was the first time she had relived the most horrifying day of her life. Maybe, the fact that her husband was the one person who could understand her agony, would help in healing her.

Finally finding peace in her Arnavji's arms, she slept, leaving Arnav to a sleepless night, a night where he kept vigil for his wife. It was his form of paying respects to those gentle souls who had brought her into this world, into his world.

*******************

Khushi sensed his gaze on her even before she came awake completely. Blinking open her aching eyes, she took a moment to listen to the steady beat of his heart before looking up at him. His expression a mixture of love, pain and apprehension, she could tell that he was waiting for some sort of clue from her as to how to proceed with the day.

Giving him a faint smile laced with sadness, she told him, "Don't worry, Arnavji, I'm okay. It is the night before the anniversary that was always hard on me, but this time, you were there. The whole day today will go in the pooja itself. Just...be with me...near me..."

"Hamesha...", he replied, hugging her to him.

*******************

The day passed in a blur of activity. Khushi's Amma, Babuji aur Buaji came early to help in the preparations and it brought tears to the eyes of the entire family to see Garima weeping uncontrollably, holding Khushi in a tight embrace.

The sombre mood persisted for the entire day and all Arnav could do was stay right beside his wife, trying to give her as much comfort as he could, with his presence. To everyone watching, it was clear that Khushi was able to get through the day only because of him. She would look up at him intermittently and lean into him when he touched her in response, as if drawing strength from her husband, as if reminding herself that, in spite of the terrible past, she was here, with him, safe and loved.

Once her family had left after the evening tea, Khushi excused herself and went up to their room, pausing for a moment to let Arnav know that she wanted him to come with her. He found her waiting for him at the poolside, looking up at the darkening sky. Coming up behind her, Arnav pulled his wife into his embrace, "You okay?"

Leaning back against his chest, she nodded, "Thank you, Arnavji. For last night as well as for today. If you hadn't been there, I would've got through the day as always. But this time, for the first time, I'm at peace after the pooja, not in pain."

Hugging her tighter, he whispered against her hair, "I promised you, I'll be with you, every step of the way...Hamesha..."

Smilingly softly, Khushi turned to him, safe in the envelope of his arms. A little while later, she stepped back and looked up at the sky again, "Amma, Babuji, I'm fine now, in the truest sense of the word. How could I not be, after you sending Arnavji into my life..."

Looking back at her husband who was watching her silently, Khushi murmured, "Hamesha..."

This was very difficult for me to write. I'm not sure how many of you will understand when I say that it had to be written.

When you lose people, you tend to shove your grief into a corner of your heart and get back to the practicalities of daily survival. Then, some days come around during the year, when every waking moment torments you with memory after memory. It leaves you so exhausted and broken, that it doesn't leave you with the strength to even cry. A huge hole opens up in your chest and every breath you take ends up failing to reach your lungs, leaving you gasping in agony. On such days, you just want to burrow deep into something, someone, who'll keep you safe from breaking apart, who'll prevent the hole from opening wide and consuming you as a whole.

All you can do is to just ride out those days, hoping that as the sun comes up the next morning, you'll be able to get back to your daily grind, the latch firmly back on that compartment in your heart. And go about your life, drawing strength from your loved ones, those who remind you that the world is not all pain and grief, there's joy in it as well.

I hope I've done justice to the piece.

P.S : I'll be back on Friday with a lighter OS, just to make up for the gloom.

P.S.2 : The other OSs can be found here :