Hello!
First and foremost a big, big thank you for all your love and appreciation for this OS-turned-SS. Initially my intention had been to take the story to the point where Abhira can get a reset button for their love story. But a lot of you - esp my buddies, Nisha(sunshining), Sejal (SejN) and slan (name still unknown to me 😆) - wanted to know how I would take Abhira fwd. So here it is - a 2 part OS now turned into a 5 part SS. Happy reading!!
Part Three
Abhimanyu picked up his bag from the car trunk and slung it over his shoulder. He and Harshvardhan had flown in from Shimla to Udaipur. Harsh had accompanied Abhimanyu till the house. “You’re going back to Mumbai now?” he asked.
“Yes. I just wanted to see you home.” After a slight hesitation, he patted Abhimanyu’s shoulder. “You take care of yourself, Abhimanyu. Don’t stress yourself out.”
Abhimanyu nodded. He was numb on the inside. Was he going to lose it again, he wondered. Was this not able to feel anything a prelude to another psychotic episode? “Take your medicines on time. You hear me?” He blinked and forced himself back to what Harshvardhan was saying and nodded. “Do you want me to come inside along with you?”
“No!” Abhimanyu’s reply was swift. “Please! No!” he repeated in a softer tone. “I don’t… You believe in Akshara. No one in there does. I don’t want you to come inside and…Akshara trusts you to a certain extent now. What you did today…what you said today…she trusts you a little. I want it to stay that way. I-I want one person to be with… h-her.”
It was the first time his son was trusting him to do something. “Of course. I’ll stay in touch with her. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Abhimanyu’s nod was jerky. “Y-you should meet Junior some time. He-he’s a great kid. Akshara brought him up well.” His mind went back to the moment Abhir played his mouthorgan to soothe Akshara’s panic attack. She still gets panic attacks. And that little one takes care of her. His heart wept even as his eyes remained dry. “He takes wonderful care of his mamma. Chalta hoon. Aap-aap phone karte rahiyega please.”
“Of course, beta. Of course.” He watched his son drag himself into the house and with a sigh, got back into the car, instructing the driver to take him to the airport.
****
Abhimanyu dropped onto his bed and closed his eyes. It had been a week since he got back from Shimla. A couple of days after that, he’d joined back on duty at Birla Hospital although part time. He refused to do any surgeries until the psychiatrist gave him complete clearance. So for now he did regular outpatient consultations and post-op check-ups. He was still in the same clothes he’d worn to the hospital, hadn’t even removed his shoes. His feet were hanging off the bed. He had to get up, have a shower and go down for his dinner. He didn’t want his ma or anyone else coming into his room searching for him, trying to feed him, smother him with their tender loving care. He didn’t want anyone coming into his room. Period. Full stop.
His phone began ringing. He briefly contemplated ignoring it but one look at the caller id, he shot up from his prone position. Why was Sharma ji video calling him? He tapped the screen and his lips stretched into the first real smile in over a week as he saw Junior frowning, trying to put the phone on the holder. Those chubby cheeks and that cherub face never failed to squeeze his heart.
“Hey Junior! Aaj meri yaad kaise aagayi aapko?” Abhir sneezed and sneezed again, his nose turning red as he wiped it with a hanky. Abhimanyu frowned when that was followed by a bout of coughing. “Arre aapki tabiyat teek nahi hain?”
Abhir bobbed his head. “Docman! Mujhe bukhar hain! Aur sardi bhi. Aur khaasi bhi!” He coughed again. “Papa doctor ke paas legaye. Doctor ne dawayi di. But it’s been two days. I still feel sick. Aap Docman ho na. Aap koi magic dawa do na please. Mamma bahut worry karti hain. Teek se soti bhi nahi hain kyun ki mujhe bukhar hain. Raat bhar jaagti hain. Help please?”
Abhimanyu swallowed the lump in his throat. Akshara is not sleeping properly. Ab toh Sharma ji bhi saath nahi hain! How is she handling? Where was all this concern for 6 years, Dr Abhimanyu Birla, a part of him scoffed at his own thoughts. He forcefully pushed it aside. “Don’t worry, Junior. Give me exactly 5 minutes. I’ll send the medicine list to your papa, OK? You take those medicines and get some nice rest.”
Abhir tried to grin and sneezed again. “Thank you Docman. Roohi ko hi bolna. Teek hain? Bye!”
“Bye, Junior!” Abhimanyu touched the phone screen gently. He quickly consulted the pediatrician who had handled Abhir’s case when he’d been in Udaipur, got the medicines and instructions from him and forwarded it to Abhinav. He received a – thank you so much, Docman – almost immediately.
“Poppy, Poppy, Poppy, Poppy!” Roohi came barreling into his room chanting and threw herself into his arms. He caught her, twirled her around playfully and threw her on the bed gently. She giggled before bouncing back and sitting up. “Poppy, from when can I start calling you papa?”
“Abhi, buss karo please! Nahi haalat meri!” His Akshu’s tear-stained pale, scared face and hiccupping words gutted him once again out of the blue. What right did he have to make promises to this little one when he’d broken every single promise he’d ever made before? He’d kicked her out and now planning to play happy family with her sister! Her sister who was his brother’s widow. Neel’s wife! Akshara’s sister! He rubbed his arms, trying to get rid of the repulsive goosebumps that spread across his skin.
“Poppy! Bolo na!”
Abhimanyu sat beside Roohi, picked her up and settled her into his lap, hugging her. “First tell me, why do you want me to be your papa.”
Roohi thought over. “Papa would love me lots and lots.”
“Well, I love you lots and lots and lots and lots.”
Roohi giggled. “Papa would drop me at school, pick me up after the school, buy me toys…”
“And I do all those things now, don’t I?”
Roohi turned mutant, crawled out of his lap and got down to stomp her feet. “All my friends have papa and I want papa too.”
Arohi, who had been about to step into the room, halted. Waiting for Abhimanyu’s answer. Ever since Roohi was born, the little girl had become his whole world. Whatever she wanted, she got from her poppy. Now she wanted him as her papa and she was going to get him as her papa. And it would just be a matter of time before she, Arohi Birla would become Arohi Abhimanyu Birla. She blinked, focusing on the Poppy-Roohi talk.
Abhimanyu went down on his knees and gently brushed Roohi’s hair away from her face. “Remember you and I watched the movie Wonder Woman?”
Roohi struck the pose, wrists crossing over one another forming an X. “Yyeeeaaahh!” she yelled out the war cry.
Abhimanyu smiled. “Yes. Who was her papa?” Roohi frowned, thinking. “She didn’t have papa,” he continued in a soft tone. “She had her mamma. Her very strong mamma who was the queen and her aunt who taught her to fight. Remember?” Roohi bobbed her head, her eyes bright with admiration. She’d even made her Poppy buy the Wonder Woman costume after watching the movie.
“So now you tell me. Do you want to be like everyone else or do you want to be Princess Roohi, the Wonder Girl?”
“But I don’t have any superpowers. And I don’t know how to fight!”
“But you have your maasi who is a fighter. Who can teach you how to fight and survive. You learn that and you’d get the superpowers too.” He smoothed the little girl’s face. “And Roohi, never say you don’t have papa. Your papa was a hero. A brave guy who gave his life saving little girls who were in trouble. You should be proud to be his daughter, bachha! No matter what I do, I can never be like him.”
“My papa is also like Abhir bhai’s super papa?”
Abhimanyu ignored the kick in the gut feeling. “Yes.”
Roohi’s thin chest puffed up in pride but her face fell in the next moment. “But what if my friends tease me that I have no papa?”
“Then tell them what a great guy your papa was! That you’re proud to be his daughter. Princess, I promise I’ll always be here for you. That you’d always be my princess no matter what. But you already have your super papa, don’t you? And he’s up there among the stars, looking down at you, smiling at you…and…and you know what…every year I buy you birthday gift, right?” she nodded. “Those gifts weren’t my idea. Your papa used to come in my dreams and tell me – bhai, tomorrow is my Roohi’s birthday, and I want you to buy her a cycle. I want you to get her that big chocolate cake…”
“Really?” she screeched in joy. “My papa loves me so much?”
“Yes Princess.” Abhimanyu had to clear his clogged up throat twice before he could go on. "You’d become your papa’s world even before you were born.”
“Yay!” She jumped and ran up to Arohi. “Matasree! Poppy is going to be my Poppy because I have my super papa with me. Just like Abhir! And maasi is going to teach me to fight. Yay! Do you have maasi’s number? I want to talk!”
Left with little choice, Arohi gave an understanding nod to Abhimanyu and walked away along with Roohi who was talking a mile a minute, wanting to see her papa’s photo album. There was no need for her to get her hands and her image dirty. There was her “maa”. She would do the deeds.
And sure enough Manjari didn’t disappoint her. She barged into Abhimanyu’s room like a whirlwind. “Abhi! What is it that I’m hearing? You’re refusing to marry Arohi?” Her eyes went from panic to despair. “Beta, why? What happened? If it’s about your health…”
Abhimanyu, who had just come out of the shower dressed in tracks walked up to his wardrobe, pulled out a v neck dark green t-shirt, threw his towel aside and tugged the shirt over his head. “It’s not about my health ma, I just don’t think it’s fair to get married. But please don’t worry. Arohi understands and I explained to Roohi too.”
“But I don’t understand.” She snapped stubbornly. “So explain to me too.”
“A guy who has so many anger issues, so much ego is not going to make a good husband to any girl, ma.”
“And who said this? That Akshara? Woh panauti jab se tere zindagi mein aayi hain…”
“Ma!” Abhimanyu’s voice was both loud and pleading.
“What I’m speaking is the truth and you know it. Even the Goenkas know it. That girl is born unlucky, I tell you! That day when you’d met with the accident, she’d come to the hospital. I told her in front of her family that she is the reason for all your pain. She is the one who always, always ends up coming between you and your happiness, you and your life. I told her to leave before she killed my one remaining son and not one…not one of them supported her. Which means what, Abhi? Tu hi bol! They too know the truth. That’s why they sent her away. Now she is gone. She is not going to come back! So why are you still letting her…Abhi!”
Manjari’s scream coincided with the shattering of the water glass that Abhimanyu had been holding, the glass pieces piercing and cutting his palm, the slow trickle of blood staining the floor. He pulled his hand out of her reach when she rushed forward. Grabbing the towel he’d just discarded, he wrapped it around his palm carelessly. His voice was as dead as his eyes as he looked at the woman who’d given him birth.
“Ak-Akshara is not responsible for Neel’s death. Akshara did not kill my kids. Akshara did not leave me. I kicked her out of this house, out of my life that day. I did not give her a choice. I signed the divorce papers and told her to get out.”
Manjari paused for a few moments. Stubbornness overtaking and suppressing the initial flare of surprise. “And she left!” she snapped furiously. “You told her to go and she left! She didn’t value you or your relationship. She always was looking for excuses to leave you. She never wanted…”
“Aap Bhagwaan ko maanti hain, ma?” he asked in the same deadpan voice.
Confused at the out of the blue question, she nevertheless answered. “Haan!”
“Aap jaanti hain mein Mahadev ko kitna manta hoon? I lost my faith in between but you know I have it back now?”
“Yes and I’m very happy that…”
“So hear this. Mahadev ki kasam, if I hear one more word against Akshara from you…one single word, then this son of yours will never again speak to you.”
“Abhi!” To say that Manjari was shocked was an understatement. She couldn’t comprehend his sentence for a few seconds.
“I love you, ma. I always have, I always will. But I stand by what I said. One word against her in front of me or out of my hearing and know that you will never hear the word ma from me ever again.”
****
Shimla:
Akshara got down from the auto in front of the hospital and helped Abhir down. She paid the driver and adjusted her backpack and her sari pleats. Abhir did likewise with his schoolbag. “Mamma, why are we here? Are you not feeling well?” he asked, worry clouding his innocent eyes.
“Arre nahi beta. I’m perfectly fine.” Akshara smiled in reassurance as she grabbed the black advocate gown that was slipping out of her arm and folded it before draping it once again over her forearm. “You know I’m working as a junior lawyer in the law firm, right?” Abhir nodded. “My boss was not well and got admitted here. I have to see him, talk to him about the cases so that I can help him. OK?”
“OK mamma! Can I come too?”
Akshara led him to one of the chairs in the reception area. “Kids are not allowed inside. So I can’t take you. You sit here and wait for me, OK? Don’t go anywhere.”
“OK mamma!” He obediently took out a story book from his schoolbag.
“Mera achha bachha!” She kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. OK? Don’t go anywhere. Promise?”
“Promise mamma!”
With another quick look at Abhir, she asked for directions for the VIP room and walked down the long corridor. Room 112. Checking her phone once again to make sure she got the room number correct, she knocked softly. Hearing a come in, spoken in low tone, she pushed open the door and came face to face with Abhimanyu. No, not Abhimanyu. The one standing before her, with his hair neatly trimmed, a barely there stubble, eyeglasses, wearing the white coat over a dark blue formal shirt and cream trousers, with the Steth around his neck and patient chart in his hand was Dr Abhimanyu Birla.
“Akshara! Please come!”
Akshara blinked and moved her gaze from the doctor to the patient. Her boss, Gurmeet Batta, was a native Punjabi, settled in Shimla for the last 40 odd years. He was technically over 65 but he didn’t know the concept of slowing down or taking it easy either in work or in food. Which resulted in him collapsing the courtroom with a heart attack.
“Hello sir. Ab aap ki tabiyat kaisi hain?”
Mr Batta chuckled and gestured towards Abhimanyu, who seemed to be rooted to the spot, helplessly, eagerly absorbing the sudden burst of life that was flooding his veins. “He should tell that. Dr Birla, this is Akshara, junior advocate in my law firm. Stubborn and sharp. Oh, and short tempered too. Akshara, this is Dr Abhimanyu Birla, the good doctor who is going to perform the bypass on me tomorrow.”
Carefully setting the patient chart aside, giving her ample time to back away or walk away, Abhimanyu took slow, measured steps towards her and extended his hand. “Hello.”
Akshara swallowed through the sudden dryness of her throat, squared her shoulders, and shook his hand. “Hello.” The eyes that met him remained blank, thoughts completely locked away from him.
Aoge jab tum o saajna…
Angana phool khilenge
Barsega saawan… barsega saawan…
Jhum jhum ke…
Do dil aise milenge
Thank you for reading! Do let me know your thoughts.
Love,
Suvika / Suvi.
I will read this in a bit and come back with my comments. but I am so excited I got a shout out! Yay! Love love love!
We are your biggest shippers 💕
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