Part VIII
"I abandoned my family, I abandoned by my only child," the painful words escaped Bani's mouth a second time. "Krishna died because of me. My baby daughter died because of me. I killed her."
"Bani, no," Sudha clasped her daughter's chilled hand and held on. "The doctors explained to you. Nothing you could have done would have changed things. The miscarriage wasn't your fault."
"You're wrong," Bani wrenched her hand from Sudha's grasp and whirled around, once again shutting her and her words of reason out.
Sudha's hands hovered over Bani's shoulders, frozen and uncertain. She felt powerless, unable to prevent her daughter from hurtling down the train wreck of emotion she was on.
"She died because of me. Because I was stupid and selfish and so desperate for affection I didn't think of anyone else or their feelings. Only mine. She died because…I didn't love her like a mother should." Bani's shoulders slumped and her voice dropped to a ragged whisper that Sudha had to strain her ears to hear. "Deep down I resented Krishna and Atharva. My own children," she faced her mother again, a broken woman. "I resented them for coming between me and my chance at happiness with Jai. Did I not love him enough that he had to go to Pia? Did he not want the kids that he in return went back to be with my sister? A constant reminder of my weakness and his lack of faith? I…I couldn't. God help me, I couldn't, and today, I wish I was dead for the choices I made, for my actions, for the constant reminder that the man I sacrificed everything for in return took my child away from me. Not only did I lose Krishna but I also lost Atharva to Jai. God wasn't happy with taking one child away from me that he had to take the one that was left as well. If it wasn't my fault, then whose was it?"
Sudha remained silent while Bani took a shuddering breath, visibly trembling as she spoke her next words, her eyes filled with shame.
"I didn't cry when I lost Krishna. I didn't scream at God. I…I felt…relief. The guilt and the tears came later. But my life wasn't over, the last link between me and Jai was gone, and all I could feel was this overwhelming sense of relief," Bani whispered softly. "What kind of person does that make me? What kind of mother? Atharva deserves better. My sweet, sweet little boy deserves better. Jai is right. I DO hurt everything and everyone I touch. I'm poison. You're better off without me. All of you."
The depth of her daughter's self-loathing shattered Sudha, and she wept silent tears for the fragile heart laid bare for her. "Don't. Don't you ever say such a thing again. You are a good mother. A good, decent person, Bani. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise," she hissed vehemently, cradling Bani's tear-stricken face between her hands. "You are a good mother. You're not poison. You're not evil. You're not anything like Pia. Bani, look at me," Sudha pleaded. "You're good and kind and everything Pia is not. Don't you forget that. You're human, and because of that, I love you even more. I don't want to hear anymore of this nonsense about my being better off without you because it just isn't true." She opened her arms, and Bani crumbled into them. "My life is better for you having been in it. Atharva's life is better. Whether Jai accepts it or not but his life isn't anything without you either. Believe me!"
Bani hugged her mother tighter, desperately wanting one thing.
To believe.
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Like his parents, Atharva had a nose for excitement and a knack for searching it out, even if he was, in this case, a couple of hours late to the party. Trudging into the living room, bleary-eyed and sleep-softened, he still shot Jai an accusing look when he discovered his cousin had arrived and he hadn't been awakened. "Papa," he grumped.
Jai held a finger to his lips, shushing any further protestations Atharva might make.
Beside her jiju on the sofa, Rano smiled at her little nephew and reached out a beckoning hand.
Atharva climbed over Varun's prone body, stumbling over the socked foot peeking out from beneath the bed of blankets scattered on the living room floor, and went willingly into Rano's open arms, snuggling against her sleepily. "I knew you'd come," he yawned, rubbing at his eyes with his small fists.
"Of course," Rano murmured against Atharva's golden brow, her lips curved into a smile as she teased him with a little tidbit gleaned from her brother's lips. "Too bad I missed out on the cake though. That Pushkar. He's such a pig."
Jai hid his smile at the guilty expression Atharva tried to hide as he nodded his head beneath Rano's chin, strands of his hair sticking up in every direction.
"Simran too," Atharva ventured.
"Simran too," Rano agreed, meeting Jais' laughing eyes as she smoothed her hands down Atharva's flannel-covered back and up again. She tickled her nails across the nape of the little boy's neck soothingly as she pressed her cheek against his silky crown.
Atharva relaxed even more in her arms, his growing legs stretching out across Rano's lap and his bare feet coming to rest against Jais' jean-clad thigh. Sighing softly, he twirled his fingers around the necklace around Rano's neck. "Did Varun get to come too?"
"Tucked him in with Anu an hour ago," Jai answered the question in the affirmative, relieved to find the ice was melting between them when the comment earned a small grin.
"You tucked Anu di in?"
"What? You saying she's too big to be tucked in?" Jai tugged playfully at one of Atharva's toes, capturing the small feet in his hands when they tried to squirm away.
"Your papa used to tuck Sahil chachu and Ranveer chachu and Anu di in all the time," Rano divulged, casting a fond look at Jai as she revisited the bittersweet memories of his childhood.
"What about bua?" Atharva frowned, his forehead crinkling in confusion just before a jaw-cracking yawn had him blinking sleep-heavy lids.
"Jigayasa bua," Rano paused to mull over her response, "She loved them, but she couldn't be with them all the time, so papa tucked them in every night with a kiss from bua and a promise that she would come home soon."
Silence fell upon them, the only sounds in the dimly lit living room the crackling fire while Atharva seemed to consider Rano's words, his responding question breaking and opening up Jais' heart again.
"Rano masi, does she not love us enough? Is that why we're not a family?"
Once again, silence fell upon them as Rano looked at Jai, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She knew how he felt about this whole issue. She sighed. Once again, they were back to square one.
"No baby, she loves you and papa very much. Sometimes things happen and we have no answers for them. Don't ever think that your mama doesn't love you. She loves you more than life herself. Not only her, everyone loves you, including me!" Once again Atharva seemed to consider Rano's word as she kissed his forehead.
What Atharva didn't see was the tears in both Jai and Rano's eyes.
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Her tears had been many, but they were dry now.
Her face was solemn, her eyes full of a new determination.
The door creaked shut behind her, and the glowing candlelight flickered in the draft the movement created.
The chin-chan of her anklets sounded loud to her own ears, but nary a soul stirred as she closer to the mandir.
The room was empty, and yet she could feel them all around her, the ghosts of her past, the faint memories of the miracle her life in Mumbai had been for too short a while.
She could hear the faint echo of Jais' "I love you" within these hallowed walls, and she could picture their friends and family standing before them with smiles on their faces, patiently waiting for them to pledge to love each other.
They'd come so close to having it all, so many times, and she'd clung to those bittersweet memories fiercely as she'd lived, drifted along really, in a pale imitation of life ever since.
She couldn't do that anymore, she decided, as she lifted her face and prayed to God for the strength to do what needed to be done.
It was time to love them enough to let them go.
To be continued…
Kumkum Bhagya
Anupamaa
