Thanks Jforchimpanzee..:)
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Chapter 13.
There is a field..
"I shredded the divorce papers".
Dr. Neville Mallick, PhD, Psychotherapy, settled back in his leather chair and met Lavanya's gaze. There was simmering defiance in them, which, he noted, she made no attempt to hide, indicating satisfactory participant-therapist trust.
"Hmm", he said, before picking up his cup of green tea and taking a sip.
"What were you thinking when you did that?, he asked, casually.
Lavanya, looking chic in a knee length, brown tartan skirt, and indigo blouse, crossed her boots clad legs and glanced at the raindrops splattering against the window pane.
"I was angry...", she said after a while and paused..."And..".
"And?, encouraged Dr. Mallick, waiting patiently, while Lavanya tried to unravel the painful tangle of thoughts, that raged unabated inside her mind. Complex web of myriad conflicting, yet inextricable linked emotions, unfathomable motives and unpredictable reactions, hounding a fast unrecognizable self.
"I don't want to...hand him what he wants", she began haltingly, "Everything neatly arranged on a platter...while I'm living this nightmare, while I suffer every single f***** day...".
With her lips curving bitterly, she said in a voice that was oddly childish in it's vehemence, "I don't want him to move on and find happiness, while I'm stuck...stuck in a rut...It's only fair that like me, he should suffer too...suffer every single day of his blasted life".
"Tell me why you want him to suffer?, her therapist asked, leaning slightly forward, his trained eyes noting the sudden evasiveness, that his question caused to creep in his client's brown eyes..
"He...", began Lavanya but couldn't continue as none of her reasons made any sense all of a sudden...
"There has to be a reason for everything. Right, Lavanya?, he prompted, gently.
He observed keenly, with part empathy and part clinical detachment, as she bit her lower lip and struggled with angry tears.
"Because he hated me...", she said finally, tears rolling down her cheeks in long, shining streaks.
"Hated me even though I loved him so much. That ...bas***d never had the slightest regard for my love".
"And it was because of him...because of him...that Aarav died...".
"...My baby...died..."
Gently pushing a box of tissues towards her, Dr. Neville Mallick let her indulge in those therapeutic tears, and then turned towards his key board to add a few quick notes to Lavanya Raizada's extensive case history.
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"How old is your son?
The unexpectedness of her question threw him off and Khushi's heart squeezed with sudden realization as his face blanched and his eyes turned murky with pure, unadulterated grief.
Time and reason stood still and with a silent sob, she swiftly bridged the gap between them, and throwing her arms around him, drew him into an embrace..
"I'm sorry", was all she could manage against his shirtfront, even as her eyes overflowed with warm tears...
Arnav struggled to regain his balance, even as he firmly wrapped his arms around her delicate form and rested his cheek against her head..
It was after quite a while that he managed to speak in a voice that was near normal, "He would have turned four in September. September, 7th".
As Khushi recognized the date, instictively, her fingers curled around his shirt, even as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
"That's the day, you flew out of Cleveland..the day ...we met at the Amsterdam airport ..", she said slowly, feeling her heart jolt in realization as a lot of puzzle pieces finally fell together to reveal a picture that was almost unbearable in it's fathomless pain.
"Yes", he said quietly, the shadows in his eyes grossly inadequate in providing a glimpse of the personal hell, he'd been trapped in for so long, because somethings in life are like personal crosses, you have to carry on your own, that no matter how hard you try or another person tries, are incapable of being fully shared with or fully understood by another.
"It was his birthday that day".
Even as Khushi's tumultous mind struggled to encompass the unimaginable enormity of his grief, a sudden thought flashed across her eyes and conscience, making her relax her fingers and attempt to step back from him.
Arnav released her at once and watched as she took a couple of steps back and spoke in a voice, that was barely above a whisper, and addressed more towards herself than him.
"Poor Lavanya. What must she be going through?, she said, while tears finally spilled over and ran down her cheeks, unchecked.
"And...why are you here...with me?", she continued, her voice inadvertently getting laced with a little anger, a little accusation, "Shouldn't you both be with each other? Being each other's anchors...supports...sharing your grief".
"I wish, Khushi", he replied, a bitter little smile curving his lips as he recognized the accusation in her moist eyes, "But that's over-simplistic expectations of people, and relationships and life is not always this uncomplicated".
Silence stretched between them, while twilight slowly gave way to moonlight, radiating from a large full moon, directly above them. After long, tension filled, silent moments, Arnav sighed and turned towards the house.
"I think we should go back inside, it's getting cold", he murmured in passing as he purposefully strode towards the house, leaving her alone on the windy quay, gazing after him with her eyes filled with yearning and self censure in equal measure.
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Arnav was immediately accosted by his mother, when after walking around the house, he tried to discreetly enter through the open front door. He had unexpectedly arrived just an hour ago, and after meeting his surprised yet ecstatic mother, he had gone upstairs to change, promising to join her downstairs in just a little while. It was seeing Khushi from his window, standing all alone on the quay, that caused him not only to forget the party, but also his better judgement, and head outdoors to be with her.
"Arnie, where were you?, Astha asked, looking elegant in a silk sari, mauve in color and adorned with a border of intricately woven silver and dusty rose threads. Crossing the foyer to enter the drawing room, she was surprised to see him entering from the front door.
"Had gone for a walk", he replied in a dry tone calculated to discourage further prodding for information, that his mother and perhaps all mothers were adept at.
Astha was hurt by his flippant tone, especially in light of the yawning distance that had slowly crept in their relationship, following a spate of acerbic arguments over the future of his relationship with Lavanya and just before he had left for US.
"Mr. Bhat told me that he was expecting you tonight", she said in an accusatory tone.
"So?
"You called and told him but didn't think it was necessary to inform your own mother about your travel plans..".
"It must've slipped my mind, don't read too much into it".
"Arnie, stop behaving like this. Why are you always mad at me, these days?, she cried, placing a hand on his arm to forestall him as he attempted to open the door to the drawing room, "Have you any idea, just how much you hurt me by this cold, flippant attitude?
Exhaling sharply in irritation, he turned to face her and said, "First off, please stop calling me Arnie, perhaps that's the first step you need to take to stop thinking of me as a twelve year old. Secondly, yes, I'm mad at you and please don't tell me you don't know why".
Astha had had a lot of time to mull over their bone of contention while Arnav was away, and now, after being silent for a while, she began, haltingly, "Arnav, I'm sorry if I've ever given you the impression that I don't care about your happiness...it's just that ...after...Aar...after..what happened...my heart goes out to Lavanya too and I...don't want to be that typical, insensitive, selfish mother who always sides with her son...no matter what...".
As tears shone in her weary, wrinkled eyes, Arnav's anger melted away in a heartbeat and he had soon folded his mother in a sudden embrace.
"It's okay, Ma, I understand", he said, his voice thick with emotion, "Can you trust me, and believe when I say, that I know what I'm doing, and that a divorce would be in the best interests of both of us..".
"Alright, if you say so", Astha said, picking a tissue from it's box on the console table and carefully wiping her face, "I'll never bring up this topic again. After all, there is just one thing that I want from my life, before I die. To see my old Arnav once again".
His lips curving in a small smile, he attempted to lighten the situation with the kind of lighthearted humor than once came so effortlessly to him, "Ma, are you trying to pull a Nirupama Roy on me?
Astha smiled back, and replied in the same vein, "For someone who professes to hate Hindi movies, don't you think you are suspiciously well versed with Bollywood trivia?".
Arnav laughed and opened the door for her, and as she passed in front of him to take care of host duties, Arnav closed the door behind him and scanned the crowded room. His eyes found her at once. She was sitting in a chair by the french window, a plate in hand, hurriedly finishing her dinner as it was getting late for a Sunday evening and she wanted to leave early for Pampore.
Sensing his eyes on her, she looked up, and across the crowded room, their gazes locked and held, each sensing the yearning in the other. They looked away almost at once, a process greatly helped by Arnav's staff, who having finally spotted him, drifted towards him one by one, to greet him and engage him in polite conversation.
After dinner, Khushi decided to find Astha and gently remind her that it was getting late for her. Finding her, she stood next to her, waiting for her to finish talking to a guest, when a whiff of a familiar cologne and the sudden erratic beats of her heart, heralded his presence, right at her elbow.
When Astha looked at them questioningly, she said, "Aunty, I will have to leave now. It's getting late and I have to get up early for work. Is Mohan Free?
"Yes, of course", Astha said worriedly, looking at the clock, "I had sent Mohan on an errand, he's not back yet, I don't know what's taking him so long. He should be here anytime now".
"I'll go and get my things ready, meanwhile", Khushi said, before turning to go, keeping her eyes studiously averted from him. Without a word, Arnav too sidestepped to let her pass, his eyes studying her stiff face with an indecipherable expression in them.
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Almost an hour later, there was still no news of Mohan and a worried Khushi stood in the portico, thinking in her desperation, if she should call a cab, when a car, a black sedan pulled in right beside her.
She stared in surprise as Arnav sitting at the wheel, glanced at her and said, casually, "Come on in, I'll drop you".
"It's okay", she said, "I can wait...".
"Oh...just listen, Khushi, I'm too tired to argue with you", he said and added, "And if it makes you feel any better, Ma asked me to drop you".
Five minutes later, he drove in silence, pulling the car out from their drive onto a treelined, moonlit boulevard, on the way to the highway to Pampore, while Khushi sitting equally quietly in the passenger seat, gazed at the moon following them and wondered if it was all a dream.
It was when the car was on the moonlit highway, sharing it with several large trucks that Khushi swallowed nervously and shot a sideways glance at his sharply etched, aloof profile.
"Do you have any experience driving here?
Turning his head to glance back at her, his face broke into a sudden grin, that made Khushi catch her breath in her throat.
"Isn't it too late to ask that question?
Smiling just a little in response, Khushi averted her eyes and didn't reply, and had soon become embroiled in a fierce internal debate...
To ask or not to ask...
They were half way there, when Khushi finally broke the uncomfortable, tension filled silence, that encompassed them, by asking softly, "What was his name?
"Aarav", he replied quietly, showing no indication of being surprised by her question, in fact appearing as if he'd expected it. Frowning, Khushi wondered why the name appeared so familiar and it took her just a moment to recall the message on the book, Arnav had left behind at Cleveland airport, and figure with a strange pang that little Aarav was, in all probability, named after his great grandfather.
There was so much more she wanted to ask but fear of invading someone's privacy, that of scratching healing wounds and making them bleed again, made her hold her tongue and sit in miserable silence, her clenched hands resting on her lap, in unbearable tension.
Just how much pain is a human heart designed to hold, she wondered, before it gave up on life. She marveled at, what seemed to her, inconceivable invincibility of human spirit, which in-spite of such unexpected and seeminly fatal blows meted out to it, still found it within itself, the will to rise from the depths of despair and hopelessness, the will to survive, the will to rise above it's ashes, phoenix like and attempt to live life once again.
As the car skidded to a halt, she snapped out of her reverie and dazedly looked around her, gasping inaudibly in delighted surprise. The car stood by the side of an isolated dirt-road, but what caught Khushi's attention was the view.
From their vantage point, they could miles and miles of blooming saffron fields, stretching till the distant, hazy horizon. The full moon, slightly yellowish in hue, appeared extraordinarily large as it hung low over the horizon, bathing the profusion of divinely fragrant, light purple flowers with a surreal glow.
Getting out of the car, he walked over to her side and opened the door for her. Wordlessly, she got out, almost as if visiting moonlit saffron fields in the middle of the night was the most natural thing in the world.
"This is unbelievable", she whispered, walking over over to the rail, her eyes getting their fill of this almost otherworldly beauty.
"Can you smell it?, he said, quietly coming to stand beside her.
"Yes", she replied, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath..
"When I was a kid, my grandfather once brought me here", he spoke with a faraway look in his eyes, "It was so long ago but I still remember his words. 'This is all yours, Arnav', he had said, 'And mark my word, one day you will come back to it. After-all, you have saffron in your blood".
As Khushi glanced up at face, he asked, "Do you want to stay here for a while? There's a place where we can sit".
Soon they were sitting in silence on a gently slanting, grassy slope, with the silhouettes of the mountains rising behind them and the endless light purple sea rippling in front of them.
Taking his wallet out, Arnav hesitated for a second, before unfolding it and extricating a small picture. His Adam's apple bobbed as he stared at it for a few moments, and then wordlessly handed it to Khushi, who was sitting close by.
Taking it, she looked and looked at Arnav and Aarav's smiling faces, till her vision was completely obscured by warm tears flooding her eyes.
"He drowned, Khushi. Drowned in our swimming pool...", he said, with his eyes unnaturally dry, even as he took the picture back from Khushi and carefully put it back in his wallet.
"And you know what, Khushi, that day something else died too. Our marriage...".
"Why?, asked Khushi in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
While Khushi's heart pounded in anticipation of his reply, Arnav mulled over the question for a little while, and then said, "I guess, a marriage, whose foundation is built over lies, deceit, resentment and compromise, doesn't have any real chance of surviving to begin with".
"Actually, Lavanya and I were quite good friends, once, even-though the idea seems almost laughable right now. We were both ophthalmology residents in the same year and the fact that we were both from the greater New Jersey area and our families knew each other, helped start our friendship. During that time, though I dated on and off, I had neither the time nor the inclination to get into a serious relationship, and when Lavanya showed an interest in taking our relationship beyond friendship, I had refused and was grateful when she took my refusal sportingly. Apparently, at-least. Expectedly, our friendship was not the same after that".
Khushi gazed at him as he spoke, his eyes staring vacantly at the purple blossoms.
"Then a night, towards the end of residency ...changed it all..", he said, turning his face to meet her gaze, "It was the night of our graduation. I was at a bar with a group of friends and Lavanya was there too...".
Averting his eyes, he added, "I woke up in her apartment...and ...a month later, when Lavanya called me and said she was pregnant with my child, I didn't for a moment think that she could be lying...".
"Lying? You mean?
"Aarav wasn't my biological son. And I discovered that when he was two. While having a conversation with one of Lavanya's friends , I don't even remember what it was about, I found out her blood group. Even the most basic knowledge on how blood groups work would have sufficed to tell me that Aarav couldn't possibly be my son. Later, I got it confirmed with a DNA test".
"But then , I discovered something else, Khushi, ", he paused, meeting Khushi's gaze, his eyes turbulent with deep, painful emotions, "I discovered that a father-son bond is so much above such things like DNA, blood groups etc. Finding he wasn't my biological son made no difference to ...our ...relationship...to my love for him".
"And just for him, I tried to make our marriage work. But it was a loveless marriage, constantly weighed down by Lavanya's guilt, her neurotic insecurities, my resentment...and ...our everyday fights".
A flash of pain crossed his moonlit features as his most painful memory finally reared it's head, "We were fighting that day...too busy fighting to notice that...Aarav had slipped out from the patio door... ".
He paused, unable to go on, and suddenly, Khushi saw a heartrending glimpse of hell in those turbulent brown eyes..
"He must've slipped...".
"Stop", Khushi whispered, before wrapping her arms around him and holding him close to her.
"I don't want to hear any more", she cried against his shoulder, while Arnav buried his face in the crook of her neck and continued to talk..
"Lavanya said, I wanted him to die...".
"That's not true..", she sobbed, willing him to stop talking because there was only so much that her heart could take..
"That I was happy, he died...", he said and before he knew it, he found himself crying against her lilac scented skin.
"I'm sure she didn't mean it, Arnav", she said, holding him closer, weaving her fingers through his thick hair, and realizing that if she could buy just a little of his happiness with a piece of her soul, she would gladly do that.
After a while, he finally raised his face, and taking a deep breath said, "It's getting late...".
With her arms still loosely around his neck, Khushi looked in his eyes and whispered, apropos to nothing, "I love you, Arnav".
His body stiffening, he gazed back at her and even as he parted his lips to say something, Khushi smiled and craning her neck, pressed her lips against his, "Words are still not necessary".
Inhaling sharply, Arnav claimed her lips and soon, they were kissing hungrily, as if unable to have their fill of one another. Sucking her bottom lip, Arnav tried to draw her body closer and failing, lowered her on the grass, to cover her soft pliant body with his hard one and kissing her with the kind of soul searing passion that had her wantonly arching her body up to meet his, and feeling his arousal pressing against the softness of her stomach.
After a long time, he finally raised his head a little, and looked down at her...her skin that gleamed like porcelain in the silver light, her lips that were red and swollen from his kisses.
Smoldering passion fought a fierce battle with cold reality, and even as he parted his lips to express his regret, Khushi forestalled him by instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. With one hand lovingly caressing his face, that looked so touchingly vulnerable without the glasses, she ruthlessly ignored an inner voice that warned her against playing with fire..
Perhaps there really was magic in the saffron scented breeze as the folklore claimed, mused Khushi , because never in her life had destination seemed more important than the way, wrong so perilously close to right, and prospect of getting burnt so irresistibly enchanting..
"Khushi", he said, huskily, making it sound like a caress, before claiming her lips once again, neither willing to let go of the other.
A million butterflies fluttered inside Khushi's stomach as Arnav slipped a hand under her sweater to tantalizingly caress the silkiness of her belly, before moving up to feel her breast. As he caressed, molded and teased, while continuing with the kiss, Khushi finally broke away from the kiss and said, "We should go...".
Agreeing at once, Arnav got off of her and soon, they were climbing uphill, towards the road, with their hands firmly clasped.
Hey ..:)
This is perhaps the longest I've ever written...hope you enjoy it..!
Plesae let me know of your thoughts on this chapter, your feedback is really inspiring to me :)
Love
Jenny :)
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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