No bounds...
...for love and hatred
"Grudges are for those who insist that they are owed something; forgiveness, however, is for those who are substantial enough to move on." (Criss Jami, Salom: In Every Inch In Every Mile)
01
"You believe that I would-"
"I don't believe anything, Miss Nisha. I have seen the proofs, I know."
"Why would I want to ruin your reputation and mine alongside with it?!"
"Well, how about you answer this question? Why did you do it? Because of money? Fame?"
"How can you- you- you know me!"
"That's what I thought, too. But apparently, I was wrong. Very much so."
Splash. Another pebble flew across the wet earth and over the border of white pebbles and stones around the pond, hitting the surface of the water with a loud Splash! before being swallowed by it, leaving behind little ripples. It wasn't enough. Not even nearly enough. There was not the usual calm that overtook her whenever she was here. The weight on her shoulders didn't lift slowly with each throw, it seemed to get heavier.
Nisha bent down and grabbed a handful of small stones, ready to throw them into the dark water. She could hear her own blood pulsating in her ears, with every heartbeat a new wave of hot anger shot through her veins. A veil of numbing anger was wrapped around her mind, clouding her thoughts and blending out everything around her.
She couldn't remember how she had reached the clearing, her clearing. Her safe haven. All she remembered was the photo on the front page of the newspaper and the idiotic remark of the women who had been standing next to her at the bus stop. Looks like Rathore Sir has found someone worthy of him.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Nisha increased her motions, hardly seeing or hearing the stones reaching the water, but she didn't care.
It was pathetic. So goddamn pathetic! It had been months and still, a photo was enough to throw her back into a turmoil of emotions. Why? Why did she, even today, care what Viraj Singh Rathore did in his life? Whether he found someone else to replace her or not? Why did her chest still hurt whenever she allowed herself to be carried away by the past? Time healed all wounds, they said, but apparently not hers. Time just covered them with a thin layer of illusion, so thin that the mere mention of his name was enough to break that layer and make her wound bleed viciously, again.
Was it love? Was she simply unable to forget? Too weak to leave behind that ugly chapter of her life? Was she jealous of that woman who had been standing next to Viraj on the photo, clutching his arm? Was that it? Disgusting.
"No," Nisha muttered ever so quietly but with so much vehemence that, for a moment, she was startled, herself. She knelt down and grabbed two more stones, bigger than the ones she had used before them. "It's just so unfair!" She was still trying to piece her world back together, unsuccessfully so because there were too many pieces to find and gather and keep together and- and then, there was Viraj who seemed fine. Perfect, even.
It wasn't fair that he could move on while he had left her behind, completely shattered. And not only her, her whole family was still suffering the aftermath of Viraj Singh Rathore - how did he get to be happy?
"Autsch!"
Surprised, Nisha flinched. She blinked, once, twice, the haze around her mind cleared slightly. Breathing heavily, as if she had run a marathon, she stared at the guy a few feet away from her- he was clutching his forehead. Though, when he looked up and removed his hand, Nisha saw a red stain on his temple, just above his right eyebrow.
"Alright, tell me whatever I did to you- because it might be that I wronged you once, who knows? People get easily offended by me and I don't even realize it!- before I might consider forgiving you for trying to kill me."
"Wha- I..." Am such an idiot. Looking down at her empty hands, Nisha cursed herself inwardly. How hadn't she noticed that she wasn't alone, anymore? Stupid! "I'm sorry, I was..."
"Imagining your horrible ex and how wonderful it would be to break his skull?" the guy suggested, a lopsided smile on his lips.
"What? No!" Nisha walked over to him, noticing absentmindedly the large bag next to the guy's feet, and bent forward, standing a little on her toes to examine the wound. "Let me see."
Before she could touch him though, the guy grasped her wrists and shook his head. "Don't worry about that, my skull is harder than any stone! But we should worry about this." His fingers gently turned her palms up so that she could see the scraped skin and in the middle of the right one, there were dark blotches. She hadn't registered the pain...
Hastily, she withdrew from his grasp, looking past him at the lake. It was rather dark, by now. "That- it's fine. Just scratches."
"Hm!" The guy sat down, obviously not bothered that the earth was wet, laid his arms over his knees and looked up at her. Like a puppy... "Just scratches - on your skin. And what about those on your heart?"
...an annoying puppy. "Who's said anything about a broken heart?"
"You, just now," he grinned. "And your eyes. Did you know that our eyes speak more clearly than words?"
"Did you know that you're rather annoying?" she retorted, irritated.
"Yes, I hear that often," he chuckled. "And hey, I just thought that you might like to talk about it. Get it out of your system and all."
Was that guy for real? Her arms crossed in front of her chest, Nisha gave him a hard look. "Why would I share my feelings with a stranger?"
"There are no strangers, only friends you haven't yet met*," he shot back and, after a moment's consideration, added: "I read that somewhere."
"Good for you," Nisha muttered sarcastically before turning around.
"But I mean it!" he called after her. "Talking to strangers can feel better than talking to friends- strangers are not involved, they won't judge!"
Nisha faltered, only for a split second, thinking, maybe... No. She picked up her jacket that she had discarded carelessly earlier and put it on. What was she even doing talking to that weird guy? Someone who was so comfortable with a complete stranger surely wasn't alright in the head. Maybe she had hit him harder than thought?
"Wait! You owe me!"
Seriously? Annoyed, Nisha half-turned around. The guy had stood up and lifted his bag, all the while grinning at her. "Oh, really?"
He indicated the wound on his temple. "Of course? You tried to kill me, after all."
"I did not. It was an accident!"
"That's what you say," he replied lightly. "But I have the proof for any judge to see!"
Nisha huffed, not sure whether she should be amused or irritated. "But you don't have any proof that it was me. Your word against mine. And it's not hard to find someone to confirm an alibi for me."
He frowned thoughtfully before smiling brightly, eyes opened wide. "Just a coffee?"
"At this time?" Who drank coffee in the evening?
"Please? Pretty please? You can even abuse me as your target, if it makes you happy!"
It was a mistake, Nisha was sure about it as soon as she found herself give in under that look. Damn.
###
"So... I'm Kabir."
Lifting her chin from her palm a little, Nisha glared at Kabir who was sitting opposite her at their round table. The place Kabir had found for them to have coffee at was almost empty, only two other tables were occupied. They had chosen a niche close to the door and at a window.
Kabir raised his brows, stopping in his movements of mindlessly stirring his hot chocolate. So much about coffee... Of course, he was the chocolate-loving kind of guy. "You know, if someone introduces themselves to you, you should do the same."
She continued to glare.
"Someone's having a really bad day," Kabir muttered quietly, though his smile never faded. Why did he smile so much? Didn't his cheeks hurt from over-exertion? "Okay, let's try this again." He reached out his hand for her, "Hi, I'm Kabir Rathore, your stranger-soon-to-be-best-friend."
Nisha's heart stopped for a split second. Rathore. Was that some kind of sick joke? "Kabir... Rathore?" she repeated and couldn't help that little surprise to seep into her voice.
Kabir opened his mouth though before he could say anything, they were interrupted by one of the waiters who handed them the bill and left. Picking the bill up, Kabir read it and pushed it over to Nisha. "What?" she asked, puzzled. "I'm not going to pay for your hot chocolate."
"But I don't have any money with me," Kabir replied innocently.
Oh, give me a break. "You don't have money? Why did you want to come here, in the first place, then?"
"I came with you, didn't I?" he clarified.
"So, you just wanted a free drink," Nisha said in a matter-of-factly tone. "Offering to listen to me was just an excuse."
"Of course not!" Kabir said, sounding indignant, though she was sure he was only acting it. "My offer was sincere. You didn't take me up on it."
Leaning back in her chair, Nisha crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I don't have any money with me, either. And now?"
Kabir looked down at his cup as if considering not to drink but in the end, he lifted it to his lips and started to sip at it. No self-control, whatsoever. "We could just run. I'm sure we're faster than these waiters."
"Are you out of your mind?" Nisha wasn't someone afraid to take a risk but... she really wasn't in the mood for any stupidity, right now. As if she didn't have already enough problems to take care of. "How about you call someone from your family to bring you some money?"
Kabir paused, blinking a few times before smiling sheepishly at her. "Not an option. I'm, uh... kind of, running away from home."
"Running... away... from home?" Was he serious? "And you didn't take enough money with you? How old are you, anyway?"
"Probably around your age," Kabir huffed. "And sorry, it's my first time running away so I miscalculated how much money I'd need!"
"You- urgh!" Disbelievingly, Nisha covered her facer with her hand. God, what had she gotten herself into?
"By the way, I still don't know your name! What should I call you? Grumpy-girl? Stone-abuser? Stewing coffee? No-"
"Nisha," she pressed out through gritted teeth. "It's Nisha, you idiot."
"Nisha," Kabir said slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. He nodded and smiled, again. "So, Nisha, pray tell me why my name shocked you so much?"
Caught off guard, Nisha stared at Kabir, opening her mouth and closing it without a word leaving it. Kabir had noticed that? He didn't seem like the attentive guy. "Nothing just... Rathore. It, uh, sounded familiar is all."
Putting his, now empty, cup down, Kabir, too, leaned back and tipped his forefinger against his chin. "Well, Rathore isn't such a rare name, is it? You might also have heard of my lovely older brother- he's rather famous."
"Brother?" Nisha knew, the very moment she uttered it, that she shouldn't have inquired any further. That she should have just let it slip - after all, she wouldn't see Kabir ever again, would she? So, what did his name matter to her? But sometimes, the tongue was faster than the mind.
"Viraj Singh Rathore," Kabir smiled. "You might have heard about him."
Nisha pressed her eyes closed tightly, taking a deep, shaky breath. Of course, only her life would pull such a cruel joke on her. Unbelievable.
"You don't talk much about your family. Why is that?"
"What's there to talk about? My family is... not really a family."
"But they can't be that bad, right? Family is supposed to be loving and a great support."
"Well... mine is complicated. There's just..."
"What?"
"For me, family is just me and my brother."
"Your brother? So, you care for him a lot?"
"Obviously, Nisha. If I didn't care for him, I probably wouldn't care for anyone, at all."
"Hey, are you alright?"
Snapped out of her memory, Nisha startled. Kabir was watching her worriedly, he looked like he would jump from his chair any moment and walk over to her. He was an open book, his emotions easily visible on his face. So unlike Viraj.
"Yah," she finally said. "Just... nothing. Felt a little dizzy, but it's fine, now."
"You sure? Should I get you some water?"
"No. No, it's fine," she declined hastily. "I, uh..." Pushing back her chair, she stood up. "I'll call one of my cousins for the money, okay?" She didn't even wait for an answer before turning around and walking out of their niche, until she was a safe distant away from Kabir.
It really felt like a bad joke life was pulling at her. Just today, some old wounds had been ripped open mercilessly and the one guy who had made her forget it, for a while, turned out to be the little brother of the man who was the reason for her misery. Great. Just wonderful. Maybe... Maybe she should just leave. Kabir was bad news, especially since he shared the same blood as Viraj. It would be easy to just leave...
"Obviously, Nisha. If I didn't care for him, I probably wouldn't care for anyone, at all."
Nisha bit down on her lower lip and glanced back over her shoulder. Kabir was moving his cup between his palms, smiling absent-mindedly. Although, she hardly knew Kabir, it was difficult to believe that this guy was related to Viraj, in any way. They were... complete opposites. Where Viraj didn't know how to smile properly, Kabir didn't know how to stop smiling. And Viraj would have never tried to cheer up a stranger, let alone forgive them for throwing a stone at him.
Kabir... who was Viraj's younger brother. The only person Viraj truly cared for- she was sure about that. Obviously, Viraj had never really cared for her. But that one time when he had told her about his brother... there had been an unfamiliar warmness in his voice and his smile had been so soft, lost in memories.
Viraj- who had hurt her and her family. A hurt they still hadn't learnt to cope with - while Viraj himself was happy in his life. It wasn't fair. He had no right to be that happy.
Heart pounding viciously in her chest, Nisha watched Kabir. An idea was forming in her mind, an idea that was so unlike herself. Something she probably would regret greatly - or maybe not. Maybe this wasn't a cruel joke her life was playing with her, maybe this was a sign. A chance to deal with the pain Viraj had caused her in a different way than forgetting.
And anyway, Viraj Singh Rathore didn't leave much of the old Nisha, did he?
_______________
*A quote by William Butler Yeats
Edited by Ekstase - 10 years ago
