Reality can be so tricky.
There was a time when I found it boring, for reality doesn't have background music.
And then there's now. When reality is harsh. So harsh that sometimes I feel like I am ensnared in a nightmare that simply wouldn't let me wake up.
And then I wake up. I do wake up.
Surrounded by her pictures, the feel of the harsh floor and the discomfort from it making me aware yet again that what I was putting her through.
But at least I had memories of her all around me, something I could wholeheartedly cherish, fond memories. And I wish I could have given her some fond memories to cherish too.
But I was tied within the cobwebs of duties, conditions, and the vile motives of a sinner.
I couldn't help but think, how as a child, I was always fascinated by the fact that the Moon always followed us wherever we went, no matter at what speed dad drove the car.
Growing up, even after knowing all the scientific reasons for it, I still chose to stick with the fact that the Moon was way powerful than any other thing.
And that's why, with the highest of the highest speed I drove my car at, the trees came and went, shops came and went, people came and went, but the one thing that stuck around, bigger than anything else, was the Moon.
And today, I couldn't help but personify the same Moon as my Avni.
She was the sole celestial being in my life, who made everything else fade away, turned everything else into background noise.
The trees could be my past, Juhi, who I once considered to be my all, the shops could be my principles that I once considered the citadels of my life, and the people could be every other person in my life, who seemed to matter only so less, when it came to just one person, my Moon, my Avni.
When it came to her, all my other priorities always had to take a backseat.
Neither could Juhi take her place nor anything else. Neither could my principles dampen my love for her nor evidences that weren't in her favor.
I knew her too well.
Even better than she ever knew herself.
Yet every day, I died a thousand deaths to face this same harsh reality once again, that I, who love her, worship her, had to snatch away her freedom from her.
I die a thousand deaths to see her wear that yellow uniform that classify her as a prisoner, convicted of crime, when I fathom like no one else does that she hasn't committed any crime.
I die a thousand deaths to see her devoid of her mangalsutra, her sindoor: the things I had to rid her of, just so that I could protect her. The same symbols of marriage that I had always wanted to her to adorn. If only she knew that I still carry her mangalsutra, the real one, with me in my pocket, wherever I go. Be it as ACP Neil Khanna, or as Neo. Because the truth is, regardless of my identities that the world sees, from the core of my heart, I am only her Neil.
Avni's Neil.
I die a thousand deaths to see her long hair cut so short that it barely reached her shoulders. How I miss her long locks, and reckon the number of times I would gently tuck them away behind her ears whenever they would disturb my view of seeing her face.
I die a thousand deaths every time she looks at me with that accusing gaze where her eyes burn my soul as they convey her disappointment that I didn't trust her. If only I could just tell her out loud, that I trust you as much as I love you, Avni. More than anyone else in this world.
I die a thousand deaths every time I cannot avoid eating exquisite dishes at professional meetings, knowing very well how Avni won't be able to taste any of those, and eat that bland food that prisoners have to eat.
And I die a thousand deaths, every time I have to look into her eyes and pretend that I don't trust her, act as if I am punishing her, and feign anger to distract her and keep her away from the thoughts of escaping this jail, that currently is the only safe haven I can give her, to save her from the clutches of that sinner Vidyut.
For this is the only way I can make sure she can return to her real safe haven where she truly belongs, as soon as possible. In my arms.
.
.
For every harsh word I utter to her, every allegation I put on her, and every time I am strict with her, a part of me dies, it aches, and all I can do is wait for that one fine day when I would be able to get her rid of all the criminal charges against her.
I would beg for her forgiveness.
I would wait till eternity, if it takes that.
But I would never let her go.
She is indispensible to me. She is my life. My lifeline. It is only if she exists, I can ever be.
And for her survival, for her existence, for her protection, I can break all rules, do whatever it takes, not just now, but every time.
Until then she can be my hater, but I still ought to be, her guardian, her protector, her husband, her lover.
Hers.
Till the end of time.
-
Neil Khanna
January 4th, 2018
A/N:
I just felt this urge to pen this down. Neil's POV is something we have all wanted to see, but unfortunately, it has only come as too vague and monologues too dicey.
I am not liking the present words that Neil is lashing out on Avni, especially due to the lack of his side of the story. But I also cannot overlook the fact that Neil Khanna is head over heels in love with Avni and won't let this fact dwindle in my head, because of the writers' fallacy in story-telling. To me, the Neil Khanna I know, would have thoughts similar to what I drafted as a small section of his journal entry, inside his head. This is who he is, underneath the mask of a stringent IPS officer. And in my head, I would have loved it if one day, Avni got her hands on this journal.
Nevertheless, would love to hear your views on this, as always. 😳
Love,
Simi ❤️
Indian Premier League
Anupamaa
