Chapter 1: Hasi
'The best stories are the ones with the unexpected plot twists that no one would have guessed, even the writer.' — Shannon L. Alder
"Sai bai, you'll be a doctor like your Aai, won't you?" ACP Kamal Joshi whispered to his guddiya as he cradled her in his arm. His nine-year-old daughter was far wise beyond her years. A motherless child, as the villages called her. ACP Joshi often met with complaints of Sai longing for a mother - the discomfort from other mothers in school, her chastising and the neighbourhood ladies telling Joshi-Saab to re-marry. Yet for all his flaws, ACP Kamal Joshi could never replace his wife Savitri Joshi or marry anyone else. So the doting father chose to take on the responsibility of being both mother and father to his only child. Thus, he lovingly became her Aaba. Sai's only world.
Sai Joshi, for all her brilliance, never understood her Aaba or his decisions. To her, despite all the silly things Aaba did, her Aaba was the best. Sai Joshi had to be the only child anyone encountered who paused her Aaba to no bounds and picked up fights in his honour. Little Sai often came home all bruised and battered, armed with a sad pout, annoyed as Abba fussed over her often chastising her for putting herself in harm's way. In all his chastising, Abba never once admonished her angst on basis of her gender. Instead, he said to her, "Sai, fight for your dreams. No matter the fight, no matter the struggle, and no matter what comes in the way. Remember to fight for your dreams. Even if it takes you away from me."
A lone tear trickled down Sai's face landing on the pillow she hugged as if her life depended on it. Four years. It had been four years since Abba left her. Three years of which she'd spent staring at the moon, talking to the stars, and praying to all the God's Abba prayed to - things she'd never believed in until Abba had left. She remembered the last time Abba hugged her, moments after bandaging her wounds, and ensuring her that his safety meant everything to him. Then days later on his death bed he had done the unthinkable - he had promised her to his mentee the ACP who would take his place. ACP Virat Chavan.
Sai never understood what Abba saw in ACP Virat Chavan. She had spent years decoding the message Abba had left for her. She had done her best to be a good wife, daughter and sister. A Chavan bahu. It never seemed enough. Her hard work never accounted to much. Her grades suffering meant she wasn't working hard enough, her studies meant she wasn't being a proper bahu, and failure in both meant she was simply breaking bread and wasting resources. A lot had changed in Chavan Niwas since she had married into the house. Shivani bua met the love of her life in a filmstar and moved to Mumbai. Mohit bhai and Karishma bhabhi welcomed their first child - a cute naughty boy named Shivam. Samrat dada met a pahadi ladki Sonia and brought her home. He never really divorced his wife Patralekha and Sonia eventually left to marry someone else. Sai could often see the disappointment and longing in Aai Baba as they watched Sonali kaku and Omi kaka play with little Shivam. And Virat, her husband, he had remained the same, nonchalant.
Sai could no longer define the relationship they shared. She wasn't his friend, partner or lover. She was his wife. Someone he lay in bed, rolled in the sheets with and turned around and walked away. She no longer knew what his days composed of, who he met, spoke to, the things that made him smile, the moments that upset him, or the difficult cases he struggled to crack. She knew he woke up at the crack of dawn, worked out, occasionally played football with his friends and then left for his day. She knew he came home to her every night - mostly after she lay fast asleep in bed. She'd be woken up in her sleep for mere seconds as he ruffled through the room and shower. On days she'd stay up on the balcony, she'd hear him talk to Pakhi di and share his day with him. Their laughter would ring through the house along with little Shivam's giggles.
Shivam. Sai sighed. Shivam who refused to come anywhere near her. "Sai chachi doctor hai," he'd tell his friends terrified. But then kids learn from their elders, don't they? Sai had always been the bad apple. The manusiyat. The unwanted one. There were days, at the beginning of their marriage, that Sai wished for her relatives to come to save her. For Aai's parents to come or Baba's. To have aunts and uncles who claim their rights on her and take her away - who would give her the option to leave the four walls of the Chavan Niwas. There were days, between studies, books and movies that Sai would sit on the lone balcony and fantasise about the Chavan Niwas a few hundred years ago. Then would begin her theatrics, throwing her arms in the air admonishing the rules and regulations as Aai would smile and have a morsel ready for her. Bite after bite Sai would take turns to dance around the balcony taking turns between books and bites of foods as the night breathed into evening and darkness clouded their little world.
Every day at the Chavan Niwas was awaiting heartbreak for Sai. A constant choice to wake up, smile, dress up and begin the day. She'd begin her day rushing to Aai - sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes in the mandir, the living or on rare occasions waiting outside Aai Baba's room with a petulant pout. She just needed her Aai. Maybe that was exactly why Aai's heartbreak broke her the worst. "Kabhi socha hai? Agar tum uss jungli mulgi ko nai sar pe rakhti toh aaj hamara bhi pota poti hota" (Have you ever thought? If you didn't let that wild child sit on your head we'd have a grandchild too?"
" Arre, Ninad," Aai had said, "Sai jaise bhi hai. Hai toh woh Virat ki biwi na. Aur hum kitna bhi maane ya naamane, yeh sach badalne wala nahi hai. Toh isiliye accha hoga tum bhi iss sach ko maanlo. Aur waise bhi, Sai ke padhai me aur kitna waqt bacha hai. Jab hogi puri toh baath karenge." (Oh, Ninad. No matter what, Sai is Virat's wife. It is a fact so it's better if you accept it. And Sai is going to finish her studies soon. We will talk to her after that.) Sai smiled. It hadn't hit her yet. She hadn't cared at Baba's taunts to Aai. "Bahu ko beti banne chali hai." She would always be Aai's daughter. But was ever truly her Aai?
Sai buried her face harder into the pillow. Why couldn't she forget? The pillow was soon snatched from her arms, her stance stabilised and Sai felt herself pulled away from the ledge, lifted lightly and then placed gently on the ground. She winced as she felt her body weight on her bad leg. The wince earned her a tsk from the culprit who returns earned a strict glare from Sai.
Reyansh Raizada. Grrr.
"Pagal hai kya, Sai? Are you crazy? Who sits on the ledge like that? Gir jati toh? (What if you fell?)" lashed Reyansh earning him an eye roll from Sai as she gained her footing (mentally mimicking her commentary).
"Nai girti mai. And what are you doing in my hostel? A girls hostel?" Sai whispered back. Truly, what was he doing here? Or better, how did he get in?
Reyansh looked her, scanning her appearance in disapproval before shrugging it off. He then looked at the ceiling as if to tell God, "kuch kar is ladki ka." He took a tissue, wiped Sai's face, and then looked around. Not finding anything in the vicinity, he asked Sai to put her tongue out, and then dabbed another tissue before wiping her smeared kajal out. He shuddered as Sai made silly faces in grossness. He then tried to tame her unruly curls before instructing her to do the deed herself. She did, leaning against his tall frame. Once she was done he looked at her and asked gently, "Why did you cry, Sai? Baba ki yaad aayi thi kya?"
"Aaba," Sai corrected him.
"Aaba," Reyansh chuckled.
"Aaba," Sai smiled as she grabbed onto Reyansh for support.
He led her to her room filled with her friends, her flatmate Mira, and a truckload of sweets she loved. The latest version of her favourite Teddy, her favourite chocolates, a collection of her favourites, a screen and a playlist of her favourite movies and songs.
"Movie ya karaoke," Reyansh asked.
"Movie," chirped Sai as she held Reyansh a bit closer to gain support as he helped her get on her sofa-bed. She then pointed to the food with an angry pout earning a "Yaar, Sai," from Reyansh.
That night for the first time in four years, Sai didn't miss her Aaba's presence. He seemed present in the laughter, cheer and love that surrounded her. In the dimly lit, the buzzing lights, the old school movie that played and the rhythmic pops of the popcorn maker that fascinated Sai the whole evening along with the pink glitter-filled balloons and little strips of shining paper that lit shone the ceiling like little stars of her own. The very noise drowning the soft buzz of her phone that had an unknown number call that followed a few ten calls from another number that simply said Virat Chavan. No longer VC, Viru, Virat, Hubby, Patidev or Apne.
At his headquarters, Virat Chavan returned his secretary's phone as he shook his head. Why would she ignore him? Maybe, she was busy. He thanked Salunke Saab with a warm smile as he grabbed his coat, files, keys and wallet. Was she okay? He picked his phone to call her again. A call later he placed it back in his pocket. Why was he calling her even? To avoid questions? For Aai? Kamal sir? Virat shook his head as if to clear the thoughts that came in silence. Then the thought he pushed away ever so often came rushing along with the memories.
Or maybe because you threw her down the stairs, Virat?
And then memories rushed back. Like an unfolding flood tormenting his being. He'd saved Pakhi over her. And though he knew she never said anything against him. Though he knew she understood. Though he'd never her speak up while his family riled her with accusations. He'd remembered her whispered sobs days after the incident whenever anyone asked her to apologise to Pakhi. "But she pushed me," she had said not once but twice. Then she'd apologised to Pakhi as asked. "I'm sorry for taking your place," she'd said. "Thank you for showing me the light."
He'd watched her limp her way around the house for days before her term started. She'd come home with a plastered leg that night. And a bandaged arm. She hadn't said a word about how she got it. And then a few days later she'd left - as quietly as she seeped into his soul - it had been a fortnight since he'd seen her face. A month and a half since he'd touched her. Yet, for a reason unknown to him, it felt like she was slipping away from him. And Virat didn't know how he felt about it.
A/N: Ofc, no physical abuse. 😆 I don't know if it'll be SaiRat endgame but I'm thoda sa drifting that way. 😎 But I really, really want a heartwrenching story. And I phir-se assert Sai's choice to stay should be hers and no based on any vaada. Sai is (in the show) an 18yo ambitious outspoken young girl who has every right to experience the world -even a little bit- before settling down. Maybe that's what I want for Sai. Let's see.
Please do leave your feedback. Or like if you'll be/you are reading this. Comments will help other readers find this better as I don't send PMs. Thank you, in advance.
Please correct any errors. (As in, bring to my notice. 😂)
Edited by AraBearxo - 3 years ago
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