03
"So, who is he?"
Startled, Nisha unwrapped her arms from around her knees and turned around on her bed, facing the door. Her father was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, and was watching her carefully. How long had he been standing there? She hadn't even noticed.
"Has Sukku calmed down?" she asked, ignoring his question completely.
Her father huffed and rolled his eyes. "It will take him a moment, I guess. He really should get his temperament in check."
"Thanks, Papa," Nisha mumbled and smiled slightly at him. Sukku had been annoying her non-stop with Kabir- who he was, where did they meet, why he was here and so on. She didn't know what she would have done if Ramesh hadn't intervened and dragged that nuisance away- maybe strangled him.
For a moment, Ramesh looked hesitant, a troubled frown marring his forehead. He even glanced over his shoulder as if to ensure that no one was there before he fully entered the room and closed the door behind himself. Nisha couldn't help the slight feeling of uncomfortableness stirring in her chest as she watched her father crossing over to her and slowly lowering himself next to her on the edge of her bed.
They didn't say a word. Not yet. Ramesh took his time, letting his eyes flit over Nisha's face, back and forth, taking in everything. Trying to read her, to absorb all the information he could and she wouldn't share. Nisha didn't know how well that worked for him but it surely helped her ease somewhat. Of course, there was the nervousness creeping up inside of her; the fear her father could truly see all her secrets.
And on the other hand, there was relief. One thing Nisha hated a lot was to hide important matters from her parents, from her dad- and yet, she kept doing it again and again because this was how she was. Because she couldn't bear to trouble them more with her own problems. Having the suspicion that her father was able to see through her and read anything she tried to hide was a great relief- and illusion of it, yes, but more than she deserved.
"You were on your way home," Ramesh finally said. "When we talked on the phone. It would have taken you less than ten minutes - how come it took you more than two hours?"
"Kabir..." Nisha started and trailed off immediately. She had no idea what she wanted to say. Her throat closed off, a lump of nerves that had slowly started to form in there further blocking the path- for words to get out and enough air to get in, at the same time.
"It's a straight way from the bus stop to home," her father smiled sadly. "How could you have run into Kabir and caused him to fall off stairs?"
Though, this situation was anything but funny, Nisha felt the corners of her mouth tilt upward. No one but Ramesh would have ever noticed these details. "How do you always do that?"
Ramesh reached out his hand and rested it against her left cheek; instinctively she leaned into the warm touch. "I'm your father, am I not?"
"The one and only," she agreed. Silence once again engulfed them and stretched over them, the only sound that reached her ears was the tic-tac of the clock hanging over her door. It felt like an eternity - but it wasn't uncomfortable. Not a tensed silence.
Nisha knew that if she decided not to say anything, her father would accept it, albeit begrudgingly. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be happy about that or hate it- she wanted him to prod and question because on her own, it was so hard to share. It was stupid but it was the unfortunate truth. There were things in her life she simply couldn't be open about by her own yet, she hated to keep them secret. But, of course, nothing was easy in life.
"I saw a photo," she finally gave in and lowered her gaze, feeling her heart beat furiously against her ribcage. "Of... of Viraj Singh Rathore and the new woman in his life."
She felt the very moment the air shifted around them- it tensed just like her father's posture next to her, and thickened uncomfortably. "You saw it at the bus stop," Ramesh clarified, though it sounded more like a statement than question. "And it... hurt you?"
Damn. And that was exactly the reason why she hadn't wanted to tell him about this. He didn't sound angry or disappointed about the fact that Viraj could still hurt her in a way, no. It was the sadness and the slightest hint of guilt tinging his words that cut deep through her chest. God, why did she always have to ruin everything?
"Papa, I..." She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. "I don't know what- what came over me. I was so angry. So, so angry. I just- I needed to get sorted out. I'm sorry."
Ramesh sighed and suddenly, she was pulled against him, his arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace. "Nothing to be sorry for," he whispered into her hair. "Love is a strong feeling. We can't switch if off completely at the blink of an eye. It takes time."
"Love?" She laughed bitterly and pinched her eyes closed in an attempt to stop the burning in them. "I hate him. He's... he's ruined me, Papa. Me. Us. Everything!" He doesn't have any right to be happy after all he put us through!
Ramesh didn't say anything to this and only kept rubbing over her back in calming motions and humming lowly. Nisha was grateful that he didn't comment any further- Viraj Singh Rathore was a sour spot for both of them. Her father had never been impressed by her feelings for that man... she should have listened to him. His gut was seldom wrong, after all- but she had this stupid habit of messing up badly, didn't she?
"And where does Kabir fit into all of this?"
Everywhere. "He... well, he saw me while I was trying to calm down." She didn't mention the lake nor what she meant with "calming down" but that wasn't necessary, not really. "And decided to cheer me up- after I hit him with a stone, accidentally."
"Cheer you up after you hit him?" Ramesh chuckled. "He sounds as crazy as you. Though, he looked pretty battered- a stone doesn't do this much damage."
"We went for a coffee," she confessed, her voice still hoarse. "And got talking and all. And... well, there was a little accident when we were leaving the restaurant, so."
"He can stay for as long as he needs to."
"Thanks, Papa."
Nisha had almost drifted off when her father changed his position and laid her down on the bed. He hovered over her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Even through the fog of sleep that was thickening around her mind, she could hear him perfectly fine.
"I know you're angry at Viraj Singh Rathore - but don't do anything stupid in your anger, Nishu."
Kabir's face flashed in front of her, his childish smile and the laughter in his eyes- a cold hand wrapped itself around her heart. Too late, Papa.
###
"...Sir- hng!"
Whatever she had wanted to say was cut off by a pair of lips pressing against her own and sending her mind into a jumble. Again. Her vision was blurry so she closed her eyes in order to relish the sensations more. There was a hand on her hip and another had slipped beneath her white dress, caressing her thigh. And that tongue that had intruded her mouth, nudging impatiently against her own...
She has never felt anything like this before.
It was amazing.
The foreign lips left her own and trailed down her throat, sucking on the skin where throat morphed into shoulder. A sudden shock went through her veins and had her head thrown back. "A-Arti..."
Wrong. The voice from the back of her mind was surprisingly sharp, cutting through her haze - she blinked, frowning slightly. There was- she didn't understand. Something felt off about the whole situation. Something she couldn't exactly point her finger on.
They went for dinner, in a hotel, and ended up at this room, fumbling and- and... what did he say? What did he call her? Why was her vision so blurry and her mind unable to catch up to the situation?
The backs of her knees hit something solid and she found herself falling, the warm, comforting body following her- and just like that all thoughts left her completely.
#
Nisha sat upright in her bed, eyes opened wide, heart hammering fast in her chest. She could hear her own blood singing in her ears and her skin was still prickling everywhere from the remnants of ghost touches. Hastily, she threw off the sheets and jumped from the bed, blindly running out of her room and into the hallway, not bothering to switch on the lights. She knew her way quite well.
It was still dark outside and briefly, she wondered for how long she had been asleep. But the moment she rushed into the bathroom and shut the door loudly behind herself, all rational thoughts left her.
She pulled off her clothes and let them fall into a heap at a corner before moving under the shower and turning on the water. As soon as icy droplets hit her heated skin, she flinched violently and accidentally crashed her elbow into the tiled wall. Her breath hitched in her throat and she groaned as pain shot through her arm- but she didn't move away. She let the water and pain, both wash over her and reached for the soap resting on the floor.
Remove everything.
Her vision blurred as she started to scrub all over her body. Tears or maybe just water, she had now idea and didn't care, to be honest. She was way beyond caring.
"You want me to believe that it wasn't you although each and every proof is against you? I should trust you blindly, Miss Nisha? Well, I already made that mistake once- and learnt from it."
It wasn't enough. Goddammit, she could still feel his fingers caressing her back and her thighs and her b- It wasn't enough! Harder. She had to scrub harder- to erase every remnant of his touch.
"I hope that you got a decent amount of money for your little scheme, at the very least. Because, believe me, finding a good job? Will be almost impossible for you. Running that shop of yours? Well, if people don't care about this ugly stain your family has been marked with, there shouldn't be much problem."
The soap slipped from her grip and skidded to the other end of the room. Nisha stared at it and slowly closed her right hand around her shoulder, digging the nails deep into the skin. She could feel a scream bubbling in her throat and bit down on her lower lip to stop it from escaping her mouth- she could taste blood.
"I believed the Gangwal family to be honorable, but can a family be honorable whose daughter shamelessly seduces a rich man?"
"Why did you try to ruin a reputable man such as Viraj Singh Rathore?"
"Gangwal Sir, don't you have anything to say about your granddaughter's illicit affairs?"
"How come a girl who has almost been-"
"Stop it!" Nisha yelled loudly, gripped her hair with both hands and stumbled backward until she slid down the wall. This time, she knew perfectly well that it were tears that rolled down her cheeks, intermingling with the cold droplet that were still pouring down on her. Sob after sob wrecked her body till she was quivering uncontrollably. "Just... just stop it. Please."
For months, she had successfully locked away all those horrible memories. What had happened has always been with her like a shadow- she had seen it everywhere; in her home, within her family, in the city, in the eyes of people. But the memories, those she had been able to push away. Yet...
One photo was enough to rip open all the unhealed wounds.
She hated it.
"Nothing to be sorry for. Love is a strong feeling. We can't switch if off completely at the blink of an eye. It takes time."
Nisha blinked, her father's gentle voice tinged with suffocating pain ringing in her ears. Whether anyone else had remained with her or not, her parents had always been there. "No," she whispered and threw her head back so that the water from the shower could wash over her face and take away any signs of tears. "You can't do this, not again. You can't fall apart, not after everything. Don't do this to Maa and Papa."
Taking a deep, relaxing breath, Nisha pushed herself up and turned off the shower. No, she wouldn't be weak - she wouldn't let Viraj have this much power over her. Not this time.
Looking around, she realized that she had forgotten to grab clothes for herself. "Duffer," she muttered quietly and walked over the room, stopping in front of the mirror over the basin for a moment. One look at her red-rimmed eyes was enough to make her resume her steps.
There was a cabinet at the other side where the soap was lying now, and she opened it and took out the first towel she could grab. She didn't bother with her hair and wrapped the green towel around herself- it barely went over half her thighs, but better than nothing.
##
It was dawn, the sun was rising outside, its first rays breaking through their windows. Nisha stopped, her right hand resting on the banister, and looked down. No one was awake, yet, as it seemed. The kitchen was empty. But she knew that soon the daughters-in-law would be up and working down there - three for the family and her mother for just them.
People talk, she used to say a lot in the past, especially when someone voiced their worries about her life-style and what others would think about it. And they did talk after the whole fiasco with Viraj, they did even today. Nisha wasn't one to care but... it wasn't her problem what outsiders thought about her yet, when her own family didn't hold a better opinion about her...
It had taken so long for her to mend things with her cousins, somewhat at least. They were good but she still felt the bitterness and disappointment within them, especially Kirti. The silent accusations and anger. But the elders, her uncles and aunts, her grandfather... they barely spoke unless it was about business.
Though, the worst was the cold treatment her parents were dealt with. The split that had formed inside their house.
The cracks had appeared during the Viraj mess when even after everything, her parents had defended her against the onslaught of insults. It got worse when Ramesh quit his job in the shop and later, decided to give music classes- something he had always wanted to do. Lakshmi had supported him through and through and Nisha and Sukku obviously too- the family hadn't been thrilled.
It burnt her chest again and again- they lived under the same roof, Sukku and she even worked in the shop, surprisingly enough, but it was as if a bunch of strangers had come together to form an awkward union.
Damn. Realizing that she had been clutching the banister so hard that her knuckles stood out white, Nisha let go immediately and turned her head to the side- and froze.
There, right in front of her, Kabir was sitting on the terrace, back to the wall and eyes locked to the mobile in his hands. The ghost of a smile was lingering on his lips. What was that idiot doing here? Why was he even up this early in the morning? She wouldn't have pegged him as an early riser.
Unconsciously, Nisha took a step back- but stopped the same moment she realized what she was doing. Kabir Singh Rathore. He seemed peaceful in their home. Content.
"I'm sorry, Viraj! I thought you had forgotten the bracelet, so..."
"It's- just don't touch it again, alright? For a moment, I thought I lost- It is a gift, a precious gift."
"From... from a precious person?"
"My brother."
Kabir lifted his chin and looked up. The moment their eyes met, Nisha couldn't stop the wave of bitterness washing over her. The one person precious to Viraj.
The smile on Kabir's lips slipped off when he took in Nisha's appearance and he looked away hastily, obviously embarrassed. Nisha wasn't sure if she should be grateful or amused- considering his flirty nature, it was a surprise that he would feel shy seeing a barely clad girl. Though, as quickly as he had averted his eyes, Kabir was staring back at her, clear shock etched into his features.
Before Nisha could comprehend what was going on, the guy jumped to his feet and crossed the distance between them, standing only inches in front of her, his hands hovering uncertainly over her shoulders. "What the- do you guys have a cat that ran amok on you?!"
Startled, Nisha looked down at herself. Shit. Not only was her skin red at some spots and probably raw, there were ugly scratched on her arms and shoulders. One on her left side was even bleeding nastily. How the hell hadn't she noticed this?
"You know what?" Kabir continued frantically, not even waiting for her answer. "You go to your room and I'll be there in a minute!" Already running into the direction Nisha came from, he paused suddenly and glanced over at her. "Where's your room?"
Without saying a word, she indicated down the corridor.
###
"You could have at least dressed completely, you know?"
Nisha rolled her eyes and shrugged. Normally, she would have. It's not like she loved running around half-naked and to be stared at by anyone but she simply didn't have the energy to dress right away, as strange as that sounded. Though, she had pulled on jogging pants, only the top was still missing and without it, it was easier to treat her scratches. It wasn't like the towel was revealing anything. "It's easier that way, smartass."
Kabir hesitated for a moment, apparently uncomfortable, before he walked over and slid down next to her on the floor so that he was sitting sideways while Nisha was facing the opposite wall. He placed the first-aid kit between them, opened it and took out cotton wool and a small glass bottle, disinfectant. This was going to burn.
Pressing the cotton wool against the opening of the bottle, Kabir tipped it a little. Though, when he bent forward to Nisha, he halted, uncertainty flashing over his face. "Uh... if you want, you can do this on your own. I can leave. I mean..."
Idiot. Why did he have to tempt her? Yes, she didn't want to have him this close, especially when she wasn't even properly dressed. Yet, what had to be done, had to be done. He couldn't leave this quickly. "It's okay. You carry on," she smiled and hoped that it didn't look as forced as it felt.
Still somewhat doubtful, Kabir pressed the cotton wool against her collarbone on the scratch that had been bleeding. Startled, she hissed at the sudden burning sensation coursing through her - and Kabir flinched back as if she had hit him.
"Shit! Sorry, that was- I didn't mean to- I-"
"Shut up, Kabir," Nisha sighed, turned a little so that she could face him and offered her shoulder once again. "Obviously, it will hurt. Don't be such a girl."
Kabir frowned though, continued where he had left off, albeit very carefully.
"Wouldn't have pegged you as the shy type," she teased him. Talking also distracted from the pain. "And here I thought you're some kind of womanizer!"
"Just because you can't resist my charms?" he countered, smirking mischievously.
"What charms?" Nisha snorted. "How to be clumsy and trip over people?"
"Not people, your cousin. Hey!"
Nisha retreated her hand and watched in satisfaction how Kabir rubbed over his head. "Not a word against Umesh Bhaiyya, got that?"
Kabir huffed, looked down and got a plaster out of the kit. "You guys are pretty close, huh?"
"Best of friends," she whispered. At least, we once were.
"Friends," Kabir muttered and the tone he used had Nisha confused. Sad, somehow. "I never..." He shook his head as if to get rid of nasty thoughts before he bent over and pressed the plaster against the cleaned wound. Then, he took a gentle hold of her arm and started to examine the scratches on there, as well. "So, I've been thinking."
"Hope you didn't hurt yourself!"
"Well, I'm not the one who looks like he's gone through a shredder," he retorted sarcastically. "And I'm trying to be serious here as weird as that mind sound."
"Weird? Sounds like a joke, actually," Nisha pointed out unhelpfully and shrugged upon receiving a mock-glare. "Alright, what has that tiny brain of yours come up with?"
Wisely, he decided to ignore that insult. "I was just wondering for a while now... what exactly are you expecting to get out of this?"
Surprised, Nisha withdrew her arm from his grip and sat up straighter, furrowing her brows. "What do you mean?"
Kabir stared at her as if she was a little kid. "You brought me to your home because you know that I don't have money on me- but we're complete strangers. I might not have much life-experience but I'm fairly sure that strangers don't help each other this much out of the goodness of their heart. So, what do you want?"
The guy wasn't as stupid as his goofy-grins tempted one to believe, she would give him that. But he wasn't that smart, either. "What do you think I'm trying to get out of this?" she countered curiously.
"Dunno," Kabir admitted sheepishly. "I mean, I don't have any money. Looking at your family, I wouldn't say you guys are professional kidnappers or something. And considering your family, for that matter, I doubt you're trying to get a fling out of this- or am I wrong?" He winked, an attempt to lighten his own words, though she did hear the quiver of doubt in his voice. Uncertainty.
Nisha's stomach churned sickeningly. Kabir was joking, she knew it, and still... "With you? Not in a million years."
"I'm just kidding," Kabir chuckled. "And you have to admit, this whole situation is a little suspicious."
"What? Has no one ever done anything nice for you because they simply wanted to?"
Kabir stilled, a dark shadow flitted over his feature- so quickly that Nisha wasn't sure if it really had been there. There was... something strange in his expression. "So, you just want to help me? But I... look, doesn't matter if I only stay over for a couple of days, it'd feel strange to live here for free."
"Then find a way to repay us," Nisha said after a moment of contemplation. "However you see fit? And anyway, you need to do something about your money if you don't want to go back home, that is."
Kabir grimaced slightly. "I guess."
Why did you run away? Nish wanted to ask but bit down on her tongue to stop herself. No. Not now. They were opening up step by step, but they hadn't reached the point where they could exchange personal information. She would have to be patient.
"Uh, I'll manage the rest," she said and motioned toward the door. "Wouldn't want anyone to barge in and find us... you know."
"People might talk," he grinned.
They always do. "Then you better get lost, duffer."
"Yes, boss." Kabir saluted her mockingly and stood up, though hesitated where he was. "Err, Nisha? I... thanks. I appreciate your help."
"That you better do," she huffed. "And anyway, I couldn't have left you with a good conscious. Wouldn't have wanted your family to blame me in case you'd got yourself killed."
"I'm touched by your sincere concern," he laughed. "Though, speaking of family, I'm really surprised my brother hasn't already sent out a search commando for me."
Nisha's chest tightened. She was careful not to look up at Kabir as she reached for the used cotton wool. "Sounds like your brother really cares about you."
"That's an understatement," Kabir sighed - and didn't elaborate any further. "Well, see you later!"
Nisha waited until he had left her room before she pushed the first-aid kit away, let the cotton wool slip from her fingers and stood up. With a final glance toward her closed door, she walked over to her bedside table and pulled open the very first drawer.
Her eyes fell on the gun that was wrapped inside a white tissue, only its dark end peeking out. Her chest constricted even more, momentarily cutting off her air. With shaking fingers, she grabbed the tissue and pulled until it was in her hand and the gun lay exposed in the otherwise empty drawer. Hastily, she pushed it back, not wanting to see that damned inscription and instead, knelt down and opened the last drawer. In there, hidden beneath several books, was a matchbox which she took out.
Her gaze roved over the words written in one corner. Nothing's tough.
She placed the tissue on the table, opened the matchbox, grabbed a match and lit it up. For a second, she stared at the little flame - feeling a similar but much larger fire raging inside of her heart. Reaching for the tissue, she held it in front of her face and pressed the fire against the corner in which the words were visible. It caught fire immediately.
Nisha let it fall to the floor and watched it burn, a strange satisfaction spreading through her veins. The corners of her mouth lifted up into a sardonic smile. "Nothing's tough, huh? I hope you remember that once I'm through with you."
And she would put Viraj Singh Rathore through hell - he had played her weakness. She would play his, now. And it should hurt.
Book Talk
Shiv Shakti
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
