This part is dedicated to four very special readers of mine. Special not only because they've always shown such kind interest in my words but also because they're brilliant writers I myself fangirl about. I'm thrilled each time I see their like, comment or feedback 🤗 or just know that they're still reading this super-annoying story :)
Thanks Ana, Aami, Semanti, Chaitali..love you loads and eternally grateful.
Will be back with more :)
Chapter 45
Love Demands Patience.
Aashiqui sabr talab aur tamanna betaab,
Dil ka kya rang karoon, khoon-e-jigar hone tak.
Cole Eye Institute.
Cleveland, Ohio.
July, 2014.
The air in the Operating Room was hushed as a diamond keratome delicately held in a surgeons's gloved hand hesitated yet again over the cornea of a patient's eye. To Phil, the anesthetist, and rest of the OR staff, it was clear that something was amiss.
Sitting on the operating chair and focusing through the microscope on the outer edge of his patient's blue iris, Arnav took in a discreet deep breath. The fine tremor in his fingers was imperceptible to all around him, yet, it seemed to appear like a flailing red flag to him.
Tiny beads of sweat precipitated on his forehead even as he closed his eyes and mentally shook himself. He could hear the soft notes of Chopin's Raindrops ebbing and flowing in the background. The scrub tech, well versed with Dr. Raizada's OR music preference, had played it in advance, but today, instead of soothing and helping him focus, it only served to grate on his overwrought nerves.
With a swallowed profanity, he dropped the keratome on the instrument tray with a clank and raised his masked face off of the eyepiece of the operating microscope.
************
An hour later, he emerged from the Department of Ophthalmology's chairman's office with his mind more tranquil than it had been for the past three months. He had made a decision and was relieved to be out of the ambivalent indecisive phase that had preceded it. Dr. Shiener, a tall, fit, sixty-five year old with a ruddy, good-humored face had been extremely understanding. He was aware of Arnav's turbulent personal life, and had always admired his seemingly inexhaustible supply of superhuman strength.
"A sabbatical will do you good", he'd concurred after a long conversation that had ended with him accepting Arnav's resignation, albeit a tad reluctantly. He liked Arnav and it was saddening to see such a brilliant surgeon in this state.
"Don't read too much into it", he'd however added with reference to his tremors, meeting his gaze reasuredly.
"I'm sure it's just a temporary, stress related occurence and you're not the first surgeon to experience it either. Take a break and come back...you'll do just fine".
As Arnav rose to leave and they shook hands, Dr. Shiener assured with an avuncular smile that he looked forward to having him back soon.
*************
His mind was a cacophony of words, ideas and memories as he drove on the summer roads aimlessly, trying not to dwell on the prospect of being away from his work for an indefinite time. It had never been just work for him. It had always been his passion as well and at times, his coping mechanism.
It was a singularly hot and humid afternoon and after an hour of driving, Arnav pulled up into the parking lot of a neighborhood park. That park. At the behest of his subconscious mind, he'd driven there without even realizing.
Getting out, he soon strolled down a paved pathway, his face pensive, his hands thrust in his trouser pockets. He was headed towards the edge of the lake. Towards the latticed gazebo.
The breeze became a lot cooler as he approached the lake, it's touch calming to his restless body and mind. His mind began to indulge in whimsical thoughts that were highly uncharacteristic for a no-nonsense pragmatic person like him.
He imagined her waiting for him in the gazebo again. He relived their embrace again, his mind finding a much needed solace in it's mere memory. He remembered the single tear that'd escaped from the corner of her eye. How he'd stopped it with his finger. Even as every fiber of his being yearned with renewed vigor, he replayed their ill-fated conversation in his mind again. Deleting and replacing what he'd said with what he should have...
*************************
April, 2014.
Khushi's words wouldn't leave him alone after he'd turned his back and left Khushi standing alone in the gazebo. Arnav had always prided himself on his self confidence and the imperviousness of his defenses. He rarely allowed anyone's words, not even his own mother's, to penetrate his defenses. Just as he seldom accorded them with the weight and power to hurt him, and hurt him sufficiently to actually acknowledge that it had hurt.
Khushi's words had done just that.
"Then, why did you paint your marriage and Lavanya all black? When I'd asked you in Tampa if you'd ever loved her during your marriage, why didnt you tell me the truth? Why did you say that your marriage was a compromise from beginning to end? How does one reconcile your statement in Tampa with what I heard in your apartment".
Her words were sharp little lancets that always left his heart with the bitterness of his own response in their wake.
"So let me get this right. According to you, I had loved Lavanya during our marriage but deliberately lied about it in Tampa. Not only that, I had also, with wrongful intention no doubt, let me quote you, painted my marriage and Lavanya all black. You didn't mention the reason but let me guess, to lull you into not only a false sense of security but also into having an affair with me".
He had wallowed in anger for days on end telling himself he was a fool to have believed in love, believing it was Khushi's own second thoughts and doubts about him and their relationship that had made her distance herself from him.
"And judging by the amount of baggage I'd brought into our relationship, by all the ugliness I'd dragged her through, her cold feet are not surprising", he'd concluded one rainy April evening spent in the company of his favorite bottle of Scotch.
"It'd always been too good to be true", he'd thought with cynicism seeping like poisoned blood from his emotionally scarred heart.
"All that spiritual connection bullshit that I'd imagined", he'd muttered angrily before pausing to take a sip. His Adam's Apple bobbed as he struggled to tear away memories of Srinagar and of her from his burning heart. Like a caress, a prayer, an unwanted panacea, they stubbornly lingered, enraging him and his pride.
Rising, he angrily strode across the living-room to reach the kitchen and splashed the remains of his drink into the stainless steel sink. Memories continued to hound him.
She was in the kitchen again.
"Arnav..drinking won't help", she said quietly but firmly, "It never does".
"I don't remember asking for your f**king advise", he bit out in his buzzed state, telling himself that her words, their memories, didn't really matter to him.
*************************
The first week following the breakup was torturous with memories of their last meeting creeping up on Arnav at the least expected times and places.
Repetitively replaying it in his restless mind, he became increasingly convinced of the correctness of his decision to suggest a breakup.
"She didn't even once try to stop me", he kept returning to this thought, sometimes while driving, sometimes in a classroom, sometimes while looking out at the glittering skyline, shedding a few tears into a narrow-necked bottle of beer, "It was almost as if she'd wanted a breakup too".
Cynicism and skepticism colored his recollection of her words and her embrace.
"You are getting it all wrong. That is not what I meant, Arnav, of course, I didn't. I never doubted your intention, your love for me. I never doubted that our future belonged together. I just wish there was a way we could've avoided whatever has happened in the last month. I wish...".
Even of her profession of love.
"I love you. Nothing and nobody can change that".
"Maybe you did, Khushi", he thought with a bitter twist of his mouth one Saturday afternoon as he drove back home from the hospital, "But not enough".
As his phone rang, he glanced at it with an eagerness that set his heart aflame with self-directed anger. The disappointment he felt upon seeing his colleague's name on the phone screen did nothing to alleviate it.
*************************
It was later that night, exactly a week after their breakup that Khushi's call finally came. He was lounging in bed with a lap top, catching up on medical reading and trying to work on a presentation for the next morning. Even as his heart leaped, his pride let the phone ring for a few long moments before he finally picked it up from the bedside table.
"Arnav", her voice had sounded strained, miserable, hesitant as if unsure of her welcome, "I'm sorry".
Without waiting for him to say anything, she'd begun speaking, words jostling with each other as they emerged from her mouth, desperate in their urgency to be understood.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I realize that it might have sounded like I was doubting your honesty, your intentions, but I wasn't. I swear, I wasn't. And how could you think that I was having second thoughts about our relationship? I needed some time, just a little time, because I wanted to free myself from this tangled web of thoughts I found muself trapped in after Lavanya's suicide attempt. And I am also waiting for the right time to make an attempt, at-least one honest attempt, to have my parents, especially my dad, see our point of view. Arnav, please try to understand".
He'd been far from mollified.
"Well, now you have all the time in the world. Go in a cave and reflect to your heart's content", he had replied with biting sarcasm, squashing a little voice that tried to reprimand him for behaving like an impatient little child who was being denied, asked to wait, for his favorite comfort-toy, "Call me when you have your little Eureka moment of enlightenment".
"You're being patronizing", she'd replied, sounding close to tears, "Just because our personalities are different and we have different ways of coping with situations? My problems might not make sense to you, they might seem stupid to you, but they are very much real. I feel them".
"Yes, I want a little time but I also want it to be a mutually agreeable decision", she'd continued in a conciliatory tone, " And yes, I want to maintain our physical distance until my talk with Dad but not at the cost of letting go of our emotional closeness".
"I love you, Arnav", she had then added, apropos of nothing, her voice breaking.
A dense fog of cynicism, misery and faithlessness had covered his heart, effectively suffocating all positive thoughts and rendering it impervious to her emotions. He recalled the numerous times Lavanya had professed her 'love' for him. As if 'love' were a magic word whose simple declaration could rid him of the misery, she herself was responsible for.
Like all failed relationships, his relationship with Lavanya wasn't without it's baggage either. Only, he neither saw nor felt it. Through invisible strings, it pulled his heart in inexplicable, unforeseen, ways.
"Lavanya loved me too", he replied in a quiet voice and was met with a stunned silence. It was a low blow and he recalled a part of his brain realizing that as soon the bitter words had escaped from his mouth.
"What is that supposed to mean?
Suddenly exhausted, he replied in a frigid voice, "Like I said the other day, maybe I need time too to decide whether or not I'm completely done with women and love".
Without waiting for her reply, he had hung up, all rancor evaporating from his heart at once and leaving him with the bleak heaviness of unacknowleded remorse.
Arnav remembered lying awake till the break of dawn that night, his misery heightened by an intuitive knowledge of the state Khushi's heart must be in.
***************************
Descending deeper and deeper into a quagmire of skepticism and emotional negativity, he deliberately ignored her persistent calls and texts for the next two weeks, trying in vain to extract a poor sort of comfort in his vengefulness.
"What is your problem, isn't that what you wanted? Why are you wasting your precious time in pestering me? Shouldn't you be busy sorting out your freaking thoughts instead?, he texted frustratedly, two weeks after their phone conversation, after a series of missed calls on his phone. Even though all he secretly wanted was for her to come barging into his apartment.
"No, Arnav, I already told you, this is not what I want. I can't stand your being angry with me".
"Please stop calling me", he typed, adding a final sting to deliberately hurt her, hurt her like he was hurting, "You know who all this hounding reminds me of?
Her silence was more eloquent than a million, well chosen, words in telling how accurate his arrow had been in hitting the mark...and when that silence stretched to almost two weeks, his heart burst into confounding flames of pain and disappointment.
"If I matter enough to her, if she loves me enough, she should come to me".
**************************
The showers of April made way for the flowers of May. The sun shone brighter and longer in the deep blue sky with it's revelers seen on every road, park and beach, trying to make the most of it's short-lived warmth.
After a silence of two weeks, her emails started in the second week of May. Popping up in his inbox at regular intervals, they remained unopened, unanswered yet undeterred.
His heart's yearning to see her at his doorstep had long spiraled into a silent yet stubborn demand. By not responding to her texts and calls, by not opening her emails, he somehow wanted to force her to come to him. He wanted her to prove the veracity and strength of her love by breaking all shackles that held her away from him.
He needed that affirmation to vanquish the cynicism brewing in his heart, to be able to believe in love again.
*************************
June, 6th, 2014.
Bab's Underground Lounge.
He shouldn't have come.
That was the first thought that came to his mind as he settled back in his plush, leather upholstered chair nursing a drink and looked across the glass top table at Phil and Tess. Phil was perhaps the only person in he knew in Cleveland who came even remotely close to the category of friends.
An anesthetist at the Cleveland Clinic, he was a gregarious, funny, happy go lucky guy, whom Arnav had had an instant connection with, when he first started working there. Over the course of the last eighteen months, Arnav had, by and large, shunned all forms of a social life, ignoring many heartfelt attempts by Phil and his wife Tess to draw him out of his shell.
While they waited for a fourth person to join their little party, Arnav listened to their good humored flirtatious banter with a little, socially appropriate smile, forcing himself to take part in the conversation when it veered towards NFL and it's latest scandal painting the headlines.
He realized with a sharp stab to his heart how they were studiously avoiding talking about their son, Mike. Mike had been Aarav's friend.
Soon, Madison, Tess's recently divorced friend and the person they'd been waiting for, arrived. As he thrust his hand to shake hands with her, he wondered with a flash of his old humor if he was being discreetly set up, so to speak.
Within an hour, it became clear that set up or no set up, Madison was interested in him. She insisted that they'd met once before, many years ago in Michigan, and had even exchanged numbers. And for the life of him, he couldn't decide if she was telling the truth or utilizing a particularly ingenious pick-up line.
The flirtatious glances, the subtle innuendoes, the feigned unawareness of her dress riding up her thighs, the accidental touches...they all came fast and furious, leaving Arnav unmoved and faintly contemptuous.
"Desperate to get laid", he thought irritatedly as he rose from his chair and declined to go to the basement dance floor with the rest of them.
As he weaved his way through the Saturday crowd towards the bar, his heart was suddenly assailed by her memories. Her smell, her touch, the feel of her bare bosom against his rough cheek. The yearning was a physical pain, a knife twisting in his chest, a lacerated heart.
How could he have been patient when his yearning was this powerful? When it did this to him?
"Do you miss me like this too?, his heart asked in an unguarded moment that was rare these days, even as he took seat on a bar stool and rested an arm on the cold, granite counter.
***************************************
It was while waiting for his drink, vodka martini with a single olive, that a voice made his heart flutter and glance sideways towards the space where sofas were grouped around giant screens in intimate seating arrangements.
She was with a group, a group of happy, normal people, whose lives weren't probably as messed up as his, he thought darkly as he saw her grin at something a tall, good looking man at her elbow said.
Lazily, he ran his hollow, blood-shot eyes down her slim person, drinking in her alluring curves, pausing on her bare arms and neck. They lingered on the sparkle of her eyes, the sheen of her chestnut hair, the gloss of her lips and before he knew it, a potent shot of desire was coursing through his veins.
It wasn't long before that desire left a scorching trail of rage and frustration in it's wake.
How could she be happy while he was sitting here like a fool, burning in his own private purgatory, he thought, tilting his head and downing his entire drink in a large swig, how dare she enjoy herself in his absence while his heart couldn't stop yearning for her?
She has the f**king time and inclination to come here but she can't come to him?
Turning his back to them, he signaled the bartender for a repeat and then shot a cursory glance at the person who'd come to stand beside him to order drinks.
It was the man Khushi was talking to, he noticed, taking an instant, irrational dislike to him.
A dislike that spiraled into fulminant hatred when an acquaintance walked up to him and addressed him by his name.
"Hey Aman, good to see you, bro. And good to see you with Khushi again", it was clear that his friend was buzzed, "Keep it up, man, don't let her escape your clutches this time. Show her who's 'the' man...sorry 'a'-man", he'd finished with a loud guffaw before standing next to Aman to order another drink.
That was the day Arnav realized what jealousy was. That painful constriction in his chest. That blinding throbbing in his head. That nearly irresistible desire to commit murder.
***********************************
It had been a few minutes later when their eyes finally met.
She was standing by a pool table, apparently engrossed in the game, when he'd unknowingly willed her to look at him, beaming his intense gaze across the room at her.
However, he had been too immersed into the abyss of jealously, and too far removed from reason when Khushi had walked up and come to a standstill next to him.
He remembered how he'd ignored her, keeping his gaze angrily focused on his vodkatini glass instead.
"Did you check my emails ?, she had asked.
"No, please, stop wasting your time", had been his terse reply.
"Arnav, please look at me", she had persisted, refusing to leave. Although he remembered turning his head to look at her, he'd didn't quite recall what he had planned on saying.
His simmering fury must've reflected in his eyes because he had never been able to forget how her eyes had flinched with fear.
A moment later, Madison had interrupted them.
"Shall we go, Arnav? Phil and Tess are waiting for us".
He'd gotten up at once, allowing Madison to link her arm with his and looking over his shoulder just once to briefly glance at her.
She had looked frozen, rooted to the ground, her eyes wide and flickering like a wounded animal.
Hurt her. Punish her.
Encompassed in the illogical haze of jealously and aflame with a deep-rooted misery, that's exactly what he'd wanted to do that evening.
**********************************************
They stayed at the Lounge till closing time, which was four AM, and by that time, Arnav was able to convince himself that it were better to be single and free and just live for the moment than be deluded by foolish notions like lasting love and lasting happiness. That was going to his mantra from now on, was his miserable thought even as he angrily decided to put it to immediate practice with Madison.
The lyrics of the song playing in the background suited his dark mood even as he surprised Madison and himself by slowly beginning to reciprocate her overtures.
Like the legend of the Phoenix,
All ends with beginnings.
What keeps the planets spinning,
The force from the beginning.
We've come too far
To give up who we are,
So let's raise the bar
And our cups to the stars.
She's up all night till the sun,
I'm up all night to get some.
She's up all night for good fun,
I'm up all night to get lucky.
A man's slow descend into the darkness of mindless, self serving pleasure.
*****************************************
It was almost five by the time they reached his apartment. An angry, deeply conflicted man wanting to drown his misery and sense of betrayal. A woman wanting to shed some of the baggage from a recently failed relationship in a single night of lust.
With the door clicking shut after them, Madison shot him a drunken smile and eliminated the intervening distance. Pressing her curves close against his body, she stood on tiptoes with her face upturned and parted her lips in frank invitation.
Roughly cupping her neck, Arnav stared at her pretty, heavily made-up face. He could feel a small twinge of desire firing up inside him. Yet, he hesitated, pausing in midst of leaning in, grappling with the distinctive sensation of standing at the edge of a precipice. Nausea rose from his stomach in a strong wave. Raising his hand off of her, he stepped back in confusion.
Why did he feel like he was about to do something wrong? Something seriously wrong? Wasn't he officially single after his breakup with Khushi and free to do as he liked?
Words, he'd once uttered to Khushi came back to him, colored with the rays of incipient knowledge, imbued with a brand new meaning.
"I don't feel married because as far as I'm concerned, the day I decided to move out, culminating our longstanding emotional separation with a physical one, was the day our marriage ended, pending legal formalities notwithstanding. Marriage is so much more than a set of signatures on a piece of paper...I don't believe these can either truly make or break one".
He was being honest, fidelitous to his heart and beliefs at that time. And he was being honest, fidelitous to his heart and beliefs now.
There was something between him and Khushi that was still there. An invisible bond, a marriage of two existences, still tied them together. Something that might not be perfect but was far too strong to be broken by a few careless words thrown in anger. Something that was worth fighting for. In his heart of hearts he knew it wasn't over yet. Not from Khushi's side. Not from his side. However his anger, his ego and insecurities might want to deny it.
To him, it was ironical that society considered him married at that time and free now. What was considered wrong had felt right to him and what was considered right wrong..
He remembered Madison's voice interrupting his thoughts. She was staring at the various emotions fleeting across his face with confused, fearful eyes.
"Arnav? Are you okay?
Arnav had sighed, feeling like a total idiot, and awkwardly assured her that he wasn't a psychopath with murderous tendencies.
**********************************
July, 2014.
He sat on the bench inside the gazebo, hesitating before replaying the final, most heart twisting, memory.
He'd emerged out of the bathroom after a shower to find she was still in the living room, still waiting for her cab. Wanting to be rid of her as fast as possible, he reluctantly offered to drive her home instead. After accepting his offer with alacrity, she'd casually mentioned that a girl had called while he was in the bathroom.
"Did she leave a message?, he'd asked with considerable premonitory trepidation.
"No, she hung up after hearing my voice", Madison had answered with her eyes filled with a hint of accusation, "She sounded surprised".
It was later that morning when Arnav had opened the first of her emails that his heart wrenched painfully. In his mindless, double edged quest to punish her, he must have effectively slain her, he realized.
[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsY4KndrMF4[/YOUTUBE]
Dear friends,
I've never been this nervous about a chapter before and I really hope I was able to convey what's in my heart and mind! And I really hope that with this chapter, we can move together towards a more positive phase of this story...I sincerely hope so :)
Do share your honest views as usual, I always look forward to hearing from you.
Lots of love,
Jen :)
PS: We can safely expect a happy teaser for the next chapter... :D
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