Saumya (Feat.Jeet) OS: The Abnormal World
So, this fic has trigger warnings about past sexual abuse and suicidal thoughts. Please be careful. This is majorly an introspection fic. With that, please do read on.
One - Pihu
The first time Saumya realised that her abnormal could be a recurring activity, Saumya did everything she could to stop it. She broke her father’s rules, she followed her own perpetrator, she suffered at his hands again, she found the courage to tell someone about it, she fought her perpetrator and she came out victorious.
Did she, she questioned herself daily.
She still remembered the day Pihu was in their house, sitting opposite the man she despised, about to become his student, Pihu’s mother and aunt looking at her proudly, Saumya’s mother and aunt doing nothing to stop it even when they knew the truth.
That was the day she realised that there would be no one, absolutely no one in this world, who would protect Pihu.
Like there was no one in the world to protect her.
She had sworn to herself, then and there, while her mother was trying to stop her from speaking up, while her aunt was spewing her nonsense, while Pihu’s mother and aunt looked at her in confusion. She had sworn to herself that she would protect Pihu.
Even if she had to fight the man who had done the absolute worst to her.
She would not let Pihu become another Saumya.
Pihu would remain away from this abnormal world Saumya lived in.
She would be normal. She would be happy. She would be untainted.
She would absolutely not lose her childhood.
In protecting Pihu, she had encountered someone who would have protected her own had he known her existence and suffering.
The day she told Jeet Sir everything, she hadn’t realised whom she was speaking to. The unabashed security his presence had provided was unregistered until after, after when she had finally given it a thought.
She wouldn’t have told just anyone.
She really hadn’t told anyone in her life.
Her mother had found out.
And while she had tried to help, it was far too late and far too little.
Saumya was already abnormal by then.
Her mother’s silence had taught her that she had to learn to live in this abnormal world she had entered, and she had to learn to live in it in silence.
Quietly.
She reckoned his recognition of the world she lived in was because he was perceptive. He was smart, and he was brave, and he knew how to fight for what he wanted and she wasn’t any of those things.
She wanted to be like him.
More and more every day.
A fighter.
A protector.
She did manage to take some drastic steps, trying and battling away Pihu from her uncle every step of the way. She made herself suffer, she made him suffer, she made her mother suffer, she made her brother suffer.
She made her father suffer.
Her truth, her abnormal world, hurt her father.
She hurt her father.
But, as things usually do, everything went back to being normal.
Or, abnormal in her world.
Somethings kept knocking on the side of her brain, some musings that her abnormal brain conjured up, but she ignored them.
She had bigger fish to fry.
Her family was unhappy, her father was unhappy, so she did what she too, usually did. Tried to make him happy.
Ignoring the musings of her brain, ignoring her own pain, she focused on their pain. Their hurt. Their suffering.
Then came the day Pihu’s father found out the truth.
That day was embedded into her mind.
Not because Pihu had entered the abnormal world with her, no, but because Pihu could never enter her world.
Pihu could never be abnormal because she had her family. She had her mother to shout accusations and threaten the person who had hurt her child. She had her father to fight the man who had dared to touch his child the wrong way. Pihu had a family who would raise their voice against the person who was wronging their child.
Every Saxena family member had stood that day, Pihu protected behind them, as they had thrashed her perpetrator, worse than Jeet Sir had done. She had watched, in quite fascination, as Pihu’s sister and cousins protected her. She had listened, as Pihu’s grandmother, cursed the man to hell. She had observed, as Pihu’s aunt glared and covered Pihu and Pihu’s uncle contacted police to arrest the man. She had been relieved, when Pihu’s mother and father had raised their voice for their child, against the wrongdoer, never blaming their child for being in that situation, only shielding her from the man who had almost hurt her.
Later, she would come to know that Paankhi had heard a conversation between Saumya and Hridhaan. That she had realised that Roop Mathur, whom the world respected and revered, was a b*st*rd who should rot in hell for what he had done to Saumya. For what he was about to do to her baby sister.
Later, she would realise that the relief she felt was not at Roop Mathur being arrested and getting away from her, it was because Pihu had people to protect her, who wouldn’t let her enter her world, who would shield her come what may, even if that means sending that man to prison for what he could do to Pihu.
Later, much, much later, Saumya would realise that the sinking feeling within her wasn’t that she was afraid that the world would find out what had happened to her, it was jealousy.
Rotten jealousy that made her question herself.
Jealousy that Pihu had people in the world to protect her.
Jealousy that Pihu had a mother who spoke up for her.
Jealousy that Pihu had a father who fought for her.
Jealousy that there didn’t exist a scenario in this world where Pihu could enter a world like hers.
An abnormal world.
Two – Paankhi
Paankhi was a certified man-hater. Something about her father being the man that he was being the reason she hated every man in the world. It wasn’t obvious, her hatred for menin general, but Saumya had recognised the signs early on.
When Saumya was in her final year of Bachelors, still in different college from her childhood friend, she had seen Paankhi crushing on a guy from distance. He was her friend, and he was in their neighbourhood a few times a week, with all their college friends, even though it was clear Paankhi and he had eyes only for each other. She would smile at him, and he would smile at her and it was a puppy love and Saumya was happy for her friend.
She really was.
It hadn’t mattered then, the burning desire she had felt for the little bit of normalcy that was a teenage crush.
She could never look a guy in the eyes like that.
She could never smile at a guy like that without the weight of the past she carried on her shoulders.
Hell, she would probably faint at a fist-bump, a plain hi-fi from a guy.
It all took a turn for the worse one day when Paankhi and her were hanging out at her house and her parents had another fight. Right in front of her.
Saumya had always known that there were issues between Paankhi and Hridhaan’s parents. She had also known that Hridhaan’s eagerness to leave their home to study abroad was partly the fault of these legendary fights. She hadn’t known the reason then.
But Paankhi had known.
And the next day, she had began avoiding the guy she liked.
She stopped fist-bumping him. She stopped the eye contact. She stopped the half-hugs. She stopped even looking at him.
Saumya noticed, and she tried to ask her. She had tried to be their for Paankhi, not because Paankhi was her friend, but because she was afraid that Paankhi may have already entered the abnormal world.
She was scared that the guy had done something and Paankhi was trying to hide it from her.
She didn’t know then, what she knew now.
She knew now that while Paankhi was perfectly comfortable being friends with guys, but the moment shit got serious, she fled.
Like she often did when her parents started fighting.
It all came to head when she was outside with Paankhi, shopping for her new journey at a new college, a co-ed college, when the guy that Paankhi liked came to stop before them.
Saumya wasn’t always a coward, but she had gradually turned into one.
That day, she didn’t even know from where she had mustered the courage, but she had stood in front of Paankhi when the guy had shouted at her for leading him on. Saumya had shielded Paankhi from the guy that was spewing hateful vitriol at her for giving him looks, being friendly, flirting with him and then dumping him as soon as she found someone else.
The guy was just about to grab at Paankhi and pull her from behind Saumya to himself when Paankhi’s father, the reason Paankhi hated men, stood holding the guy’s wrist and pushed him away from them.
He had slapped the guy hard enough, in a market, to rattle the guy and make him fall in a puddle of mud. As if that wasn’t enough, Paankhi’s father had grabbed the collar of the guy, pulling him up, uncaring that his own clothes were getting dirty, he had punched the guy, a crack sound reverberated around them, indicating a broken nose.
He had smacked the guy around, grabbing his collar and threatening, “Agar usne tere saath do baatein karli aur teri do baton par hasli, iska matlab yeh nahi hai ki tu meri beti ke saath kuch bhi kar sakta hai.”
Saumya had always had many reasons to be jealous of Paankhi. Paankhi was bold, confident, pretty, but never before had Saumya been jealous of Paankhi’s parents. Paankhi’s parents were the most intimidating, controlling and uncoordinated parents there ever could be, but here he was, Paankhi’s father, hitting a guy that Paankhi had once liked, hitting a guy that Paankhi no longer liked.
She was glad, later, when Paankhi told her why she cut off contact with that guy and how it had every thing to do with her father and nothing to do with the guy himself.
She was relieved, later, when Paankhi said that at least her father, however he was with their mother, always stood by her when she needed protection the most.
She had been jealous, later, when she found out that Paankhi’s father had terminated that guy from his college and blacklisted him from all the colleges in their city. He had even gone so far as to record his behaviour on the guy’s records, so that every college he ever applied to would know the guy’s misdeeds.
She was sad. Here he was, Paankhi’s dad, imperfect, hurtful, uncaring and controlling, yet he had entered the mud, got himself dirty, in a public market no less, to defend and protect his daughter.
It was that day Saumya had begun respecting Paankhi’s father.
Not the college dean, not Hridhaan’s father, not Jeet’s father, not Sanjeev Saxena, just Paankhi’s father.
They may all be the same man for the rest of the world, but Paankhi’s father was the one that did not let Paankhi enter the world in which she may feel abnormal.
That was what had mattered the most.
Three – Tania
Saumya and Tania had never been close. They were friends in the way most neighbourhood friends are. They played together when they were together. She wasn’t as close to Tania as she was to Paankhi and Hridhaan. But she knew Tania, Paankhi and Krish were close friends. Just like her, Paankhi and Hridhaan. At the end of the day they were just a bunch of kids that stayed in the same neighbourhood, went to the same school and then to the same college.
Only, Saumya didn’t.
Saumya stopped going to a co-ed school seven years ago. She did not join the same college as the rest of them too, at least until her Masters.
The safety, the peace of mind, the rest she felt with girls her age, was necessary for her. She had lost many things at the hands of her uncle, her childhood, her innocence, her peace, her security, her faith in her parents and herself.
The respite she had felt at the all-girls school and college was a necessity for her.
The decision to attend a co-ed college for her Masters came because of Tania.
They were together one day, long before their final exams for their Bachelor’s, she and Paankhi and Tania.
She hadn’t known then, how Paankhi and Tania and Pihu had fathers who would protect them from the men that would wrong them. It was just a regular girl’s day out, nothing special.
They were about to watch a movie and stood in the line for the movie tickets, Paankhi in the front, Tania at her back, Saumya in the middle. They were giggling at some joke Paankhi had cracked which she could not, for the life of her, remember anymore, when she had noticed Tania’s expression shift.
Saumya hadn’t been sure what was happening at first, but then she saw the leering face of the guy behind Tania and had realised, quickly enough, that the guy was touching Tania, in a way that was entirely illegal and unwelcome.
Saumya had panicked, looking down, unsure of what she could do, unaware of how she could fight for her friend, when Tania had whipped around and slapped the guy on his face.
The crowd had grown silent at the echo of the slap, and the guy was angry, angry that Saumya had stumbled away from Tania, straight into Paankhi, who had realised what had happened.
Before the guy could even begin to defend himself, or worse, continue his deprave acts, Tania was shoving him away.
Saumya had looked at Tania with awe. She was jealous of her for the first time that day.
To be strong enough to fight a man like that, how much confidence and strength one would need, had thought Saumya.
Tania had shoved him away and was pointing at him, with Paankhi at her back, in her support, “Bas ladki dekhi nahi aur haath control se bahar. Aage se apne haanthon ko control mein rakhna warna dekhna.”
The guy had sneered, “Chal jaa. Tujhe kaun haath lagayega. Khud ko dekha hai aaine mein. Pehla apna wajan dekhle, fir mujhe dekhna.”
Tania scoffed, “Weight jitna bhi ho, control toh tere haath mein bhi nahi than aa. Bhaagta hai. Yaa police bulao. Yaa fir ruk. Abhi mere papa ko bulati hun. Kasam se, police waalon se bura haal nahi kiya hai tera toh naam badal dena mera.”
And Saumya had looked on in shock. There were many things happening there at once. A guy, despite touching Tania, called her fat, like he didn’t actually touch her inappropriately.
What shocked Saumya that day was that it didn’t matter what kind of a girl you were, young, old, pretty, ugly, fat, thin, confident, under confident, any type, men always a body. A body they could touch, they could want, they could have, and they could conquer, all without the consent of the soul that resided in that body.
That a girl from co-ed college or an all-girls college all just appeared the same for guys like these.
Later, she would realise that it didn’t matter that Paankhi was fearsome, Tania was certain, Pihu was little and Saumya was what she was, men just wanted to conquer their bodies. They did not care for the soul.
Men like the guy who touched Tania, men like the guy who Paankhi was talking to, men like Roop Mathur, disgusting men, that only wanted to satisfy their own needs without taking into the consideration of the consent of the ones who could satisfy their needs.
Later, much later, Saumya would slowly begin to realise that it wasn’t necessarily bad to have desires. That girls, women, too, have desires. When she would not be able to move her gaze away from a nearly naked man showering in a garage, when she would not be able to stop herself from gazing at the shirtless man helping a class full of students to cheat in their exams, when she would gaze at the veins at the forearms of the man who was exercising at a balcony, in view of everyone who wanted to see, when her eyes would continuously switch between the eyes and lips of a man she knew to be attractive, but would actively start to find attractive, Saumya would realise that whatever had happened did not actually kill the desires that should be normal within her.
But for the time being, she was stuck in an abnormal world.
In an abnormal world, where it did not matter how a girl looked, she would enter at some or the other point in her life, and it would take a her a really long time to exit that world.
Saumya, in her abnormal little world, realised one more thing then. How confidently Tania had invoked her father’s name. How easy it was for Tania to trust that her father would stand by her and thrash the guy that was misbehaving with her.
Later, Saumya too would believe this of Tania’s father, when he would beat up Roop Mathur for even daring to think of his daughter that way.
But she would also question her own father.
Would he have stood up for Saumyaif someone dared misbehaved with her in a public place?
He had, Saumya knew that he had. In many places, he had stood up for her and defended her. But that was always because of Saumya’s fear, not when something was actually happening to her.
Her father, had he known then, would he have forced his wife to leave the house with his children? Would he have thrashed his brother if he had found out then?
Or would he have cared more about honour and respect when her mother had once again tried to silence their steps because of all of the circumstances?
Did Roop Mathur being his brother factor into the decision he would have taken then? Like it did now?
All these questions, just empty knocks in her head once, came up every time something similar happened to anyone around her. These questions questioned her sane judgement.
Judgement that come what may, her father was always there for her.
Was he, it no longer whispered, her mind.
It questioned, was he what she hoped for him to be, her mind shouted.
Four – Rewa
Jealousy.
Envy.
Resentment.
Spite.
All these words, just to hide something Saumya felt constantly.
Desire.
Desire to be normal. Desire to be able to leave her abnormal world. Desire to return to the girl she once was.
Desire to be able to move on from what held her back.
Rewa was the culmination of all things Saumya was jealous of, all the things she envied, all the things she resented, and all the things that spited her.
Rewa was the culmination of all the things Saumya desired to be.
Dabbang Rewa, he’d said.
And she’d agreed.
She still stood by that every one had their own pace of self-discovery, but he was also right to say that if the speed of the pace isn’t increased, it would be entirely possible for an occurrence of a disaster.
The casual confidence, the rowdy nature, the happy smile, the easy intimacy, all the things Rewa had were things that Saumya craved for.
Rewa was beautiful.
In her school and college, when she was at the all-girls one, a term that was famous amongst the girls was “girl-crush”. It was something like that you admire this girl, in a way that it wasn’t clear whether you wanted to be their friend, or if you wanted to be them.
Saumya had never had “girl-crush” on anyone before. She was always comfortable in an all-girls environment. The normally abnormal jealousy at the casual comfort of other girls was something that was a continuous ache she carried with her. No girl had ever made her feel like she wanted to be their friend and every girl she met had made her feel like she wanted to be them.
Rewa was the first girl Saumya was eager to know as well as eager to be.
Her being so comfortable around Hridhaan had nothing to do with it.
Her being so comfortable around Jeet Sir certainly had nothing to do with it.
The days when they were preparing for the Hockey Tournament were torture in that she yearned for the ease with which Rewa interacted with Hridhaan and Jeet Sir. She coveted the simplicity with which Rewa hugged one of her best friends and fist-bumped her senior. She seek the confidence with which she could say anything to the guy she had known since childhood and tease the guy she had just begun knowing.
When Saumya and Rewa had been formally introduced, Rewa had been a friend of Hridhaan’s. Slowly, she came to know that Rewa was the daughter of the college’s trustee. Later, she came to know that Rewa was someone Hridhaan’s father wanted him to marry.
As she slowly came to know Rewa, as they became better friends, she realised that Rewa, despite being cool and bubbly and trendy and confident, was just a sweet person who lived and loved freely.
While she took into consideration other people’s opinions, she had a strong mind of her own and she took her own decisions herself. At the end of the day, it was because of Rewa’s father’s support of her that made Rewa the ultimate “girl-crush” for Saumya, the thing that opened Saumya’s heart open for Rewa.
Saumya was somewhat invisible, she often went unnoticed in a room full of people. That was why she sometimes noticed more than she let on.
The years of turning heads, keeping track and positioning her uncle in every room they were in together had trained her to recognise the places where she could hide, and remained hidden.
There was just one person who found her in a room, crowded, uncrowded, in just a glance.
But that wasn’t important, her mind shook her out of it.
It is, her heart whispered.
The fact of the matter was that Saumya was adept at adapting to a room like she wasn’t even there.
That was when she had heard the discussion between Rewa, her father and Hridhaan’s father.
“Aap mere life ke decisions toh mere liye nahi le sakte hai na Dad.” Rewa said, her voice sharp.
“Rewa Beta,” she assumed that Rewa’s father had spoken, gently, “---agar Hridhaan yeh Rishta nahi chahta hai toh hum uss pe yeh Rishta sirf uske papa ke kehne pe force toh nahi kar sakte hai naa?”
Hridhaan’s father spoke then, “Dekhiye, Rewa aur Hridhaan ek dusre ke liye perfect hai. Mere bete ko sirf thoda waqt toh dijiye---”
But Rewa interrupted them, “Dekhiye uncle, dad. Hridhaan and mere beech mein joh bhi hai, yaa fir hum joh bhi decide kare, woh humara faisla hai. Mera, and Hridhaan ka. Agar humne kaha ki we want to get married, sirf tabhi hi humari shaadi hogi. But haan dono taraf se honi chahiye. Uncle, aap Hridhaan ko force nahi kar sakte hai.”
She heard a sigh, after that she heard Hridhaan’s father agree with Rewa, “Thik hai Rewa Beta. Main Hridhaan ko haan kehne ke liye force nahi karunga.”
She was going to leave then, having heard such a private conversation that she had no part of, but her feet stuck in ground when she heard Rewa’s father speak, “Beta, kya tum sure ho? Ke tum Hridhaan ka pyar jeet paogi? What if tum apna time waste kar rahi ho?”
Rewa chuckled before she replied, “Time waste toh time waste dad. Kaunsa ladko ki kami ho jaayegi. Agar Hridhaan nahi toh koi aur sahi. But I really like him dad. I really want to try to make this work.”
Her father had patted her head then, smiling at his daughter, “Thik hai beta, karlo try. Agar kuch nahi bhi hua, toh tumhare dad toh tumhare saath hai hi.”
That conversation had struck Saumya enough to break the doors that someone in her mind kept knocking on. The questions no longer a whisper or a shout, but a continuous chant, like a tape recorder that had broken off.
“Saumya jab kuch than leti hai toh karti hai na.”
“Toh kya problem hai?”
“Jab woh itna sab kuch kar sakti hai, toh apni shaadi bachane ki koshish nahi kar sakti hai kya?
“Saumya, beta please, please mera saath do naa Saumya.”
“Tumhe koshish karni padegi, agar yeh Rishta toot gaya toh?”
“Please meri baat ko samjho.”
“Please mera saath do apne behtar bhavishya ke liye. Please koshish karo.”
Everything her father had said was valid. Everything he had asked of her was valid.
But out of context.
With context, with the context, she had wanted to hear just one thing from her father. Just one.
“Toh tumhare dad toh tumhare saath hai hi.”
“Tumhare papa tumhare saath hai.”
He hadn’t said the one thing she wanted to hear from him when he was busy arranging her marriage.
She understood, Rewa was different from her. Rewa hadn’t gone through what she went through. Rewa didn’t have anything to hide from the world. Rewa had the choice to wait before she married someone.
Rewa had the choice to make a guy fall in love with her before she married him.
Because she was normal.
Saumya, Saumya was not normal.
Saumya had went through something that had changed her fundamentally. She did not have the choice to wait before her marriage lest anyone found out what had happened. She did not have time before the sordid affair with her uncle came to light.
She did not have the chance or the choice to be in love with whoever she would marry.
She did not have “Tumhare papa tumhare saath hai.”
She had “Please meri baat ko samjho.”
She had “Saumya, beta please, please mera saath do naa Saumya.”
What about the Saath she needed? What about the understanding she craved? What about her fears? Her dreams? Her feelings?
Her love?
She was not allowed those becauses he was not normal.
And this abnormal would always be her normal.
Later, she would listen as Rewa described her love for Hridhaan.
Later, she would see Rewa flirting with and chasing after Hridhaan.
Later, she would envy Rewa for her fearless pursue of the one she loved.
Later, she would see Hridhaan melt over Rewa.
Much, much later, she would see Rewa whispering Palat at Hridhaan’s back and the smile on her and Hridhaan’s face when he finally turned around to look at her.
Later, but earlier than she could’ve thought, in the privacy of her room, in the secret of the night, Saumya wouldbwhisper Palat at one person, and with the evidence of her heart broken before she could even understand why, she would shed tears when he would not turn around to look at her. She would cry, silently, unseeing the hesitation of his steps and the force of his back, unable to make himself turn around for her.
Five – Saumya
Saumya was young, just beginning her teenage really, when her uncle had first touched her hand in a way that had given her the ick. She had shaken it off, unaware that had just been the beginning.
The wrist grab came later, after she had selected her musical instrument, began her practise with him and he wouldn’t let her leave until she completed some exercise or the other.
The day he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap for the first time was the day he first took her to the park too. He had hand-fed the mango toffee to her that day.
That was the day Saumya had realised that her uncle did not behave with her normally.
The visits to the park increased. The grabbing shifted from her hand, to her wrist, to her arm, to her shoulders, to her neck, to the back of her head, and to her hair. His other hand wandered too, at first just a pat on her knee, to then gradually her thigh, to her inner thigh and the rest was history she did not wish to remember.
That she was unable to forget.
After her uncle’s control slipped one day at their home and her mother walked in on him, Saumya had cried in relief.
Then in disbelief.
Then in silence.
A world where no one fought for her. Not even herself.
She was guilty, she felt filthy, and she was gone.
She had thought forever.
It had taken her a long time, to even reach the semblance of normalcy she wished in her life.
And then her father decided to marry her off.
To a man that resembled her uncle in more ways than one.
She still remembered how he had too, begun with grabbing her hands. Then he had grabbed her wrists.
The after would soon follow.
She had no one to tell.
Her father wanted her to try.
Her mother wanted her to listen to her father.
Her brother was trying his best to bridge the new gap that had taken over their family.
Her aunt was trying but failing.
Her Jeet Sir tried to tease her about it, but couldn’t actually really help her with it.
And here they were again.
Sarthak was not a nice person. She knew that soon, but she tried for her father’s sake. She had once kept silent for almost all her teen years and more for her father’s sake.
What was keeping silent while taking abuse from one other man so that her father could once again be happy.
“Tumhare Papa tumhare saath hai,” oh, how she longed to hear those words from him.
“Please meri baat ko samjho,” whispered her heart instead.
May be that was the reason her heart did not melt when her father was defending her.
May be that was why she didn’t feel grateful when he repeated his words, the words he often spoke to defend her.
May be that was why her heart dropped when he compared her purity to Ganga Maa, Yamuna Maa and Saraswati Maa.
May be that was why she didn’t believe him when he said that he believed that Saumya would never fall for a guy like Jeet.
May be that explained the sinking feeling within her when she listened to him boast about how she never lied.
She did feel relief when he broke off the engagement.
His belief in what Jeet Sir said about Sarthak comforted her beyond belief.
His reproach of Jeet Sir when they returned home from the hospital returned all the dread, she had buried within her when he had broken off the engagement.
“Maine kaha tha,” her father began, “---maine kaha tha ki meri beti ka naam tumse judna nahi chahiye.”
He didn’t say anything, he stood, listening, not explaining, when he had been the one to notice how wrong Sarthak was with her.
He never defended himself from her father. He had been slapped, insulted, thrown in prison and beaten by her father, but he never reciprocated. The silly fights were just that, at least on his side.
She knew he felt that her father’s love for her was pure, but she wasn’t sure any more. Not after she had seen her friend’s father’s love for them.
Not when she had seen the fight they had fought for their daughters, not when she had seen the silent support she had seen from fathers for their daughters.
“Ab dekho,” her father continued his scolding, his anger misdirected at the man who had only tried to help her, “---dekho tumne kya kar diya.”
“Kya kar liya hai inhone?”, asked Saumya.
She still had not found the courage to look at her father, her gaze still stuck at her own feet. How could she find the courage to ask such a question from her father was a disbelief in itself.
Jeet Sir tried to warn her, “Junior?”, but he only ended up warming her cold heart.
His voice was enough to give her the courage to look up, not at her father, but at him. He shook his head, indicating her to shut up. That she shouldn’t do this.
But she should.
She was so tired.
She found her father’s gaze, the fury behind them scaring her for a moment, but she said, nevertheless, “Inhone toh bas unhe mera haath pakadne se roka hai.”
Her father cried, “Bas haath hi toh pakadna tha Saumya. Meine kaha tha Saumya, please mera saath do apne behtar bhavishya ke liye, please koshish karo. Yeh thi tumhari koshish.”
She scoffed, her own failure still in her heart she asked, “Toh bhavishya behtar banana ke liye mein apne bhoot kaal ko bhula dun.”
Her father shouted, “Haan. Bhula do. Warna naa tum aage badh paaogi, naa hum.”
She laughed, a manic sound that resembled laughter, “Uss insaan ke saath mein apna bhoot kaal bhulane ki koshish karun joh mujhe har pal uski yaad dilaata hai?”
Her father looked struck, her mother crying beside him. She didn’t care in that moment when she continued, “Haath chuna sirf shuruaat hoti hai papa.”
She held her hands up, looking at them, the image of her uncle and Sarthak merging in her mind, as they both tried to reach for her, she sobbed, “Pehle haath chua tha. Janmashtmi ke din. Bhari saba mein. Nahi. Sangeet sikhate waqt. Phir kalaai, college mein, apne doston ko saamne. Nahi. Park mein. Mere doston ko saamne. Koi kuch nahi kar raha papa. Koi nahi rok raha hai inhe. Koi rok kyun nahi raha hai papa. Koi kuch keh kyun nahi raha hai?”
She grabbed her wrist, hard, tight. Enough that her bangles broke. Bangles that she had worn for the first ever date she would go to. With the guy who would try to may be, definitely, touch her again.
Her bangles shattered against her palm, red streaking her palm and her wrist.
She smiled, it hurt. The hurt chased away the filth.
She heard shouts, calls of her name. She did not register them, fascinated by the red that stained her wrists, her palms, the floor.
Good, she thought.
May be now if they tried to touch me, her train of thought continued, the red stain would be evidence of their disgusting acts.
Someone tried to grab her wrists, but she pulled back. No. This was crucial evidence. She couldn’t let them destroy it.
She backed away from them.
They were not the ones to hurt her. She needed to find them. She needed the world to see their stained hands so that they could be punished.
So that she could finally breathe again.
So that she could finally be normal again.
His voice pulled her out of her trance. She looked up at him at his call of her designation from him. His hands were in front of him, but she wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t touch her. He hadn’t before. Even when she wanted him to.
He hadn’t.
She looked up at him, and he calmed her down instantly.
He was saying something, something she could see but not hear.
A hand gently touched her and she startled, no, he wouldn’t, not until she allowed him to.
She looked down and was glad that it was her brother. He was cleaning it, the stains. She half-heartedly tried to pull her hand from him but his voice once again found hers. She looked up again.
He was there.
There was no need for evidence.
She had him to believe her. Him to defend her. Him to protect her.
He would not let the hands reach past her wrists.
She believed him.
Featuring – Jeet
Jeet had always known that the world was a very unfair place for woman. The normal world, that resided every person, and the abnormal world, that resided the people who had never moved on from the thing that had turned them abnormal.
His mother had always been someone who resided in that abnormal world. She had entered that world when she fell in love with his father. She hadn’t left that abnormal world, and in the end that world had taken her away from Jeet.
He hadn’t been able to take her away from that world.
And in his failure to help his mother, he was a permanent resident of that abnormal world.
He was used to it.
He was used to staying there.
Alone.
Unable to touch anyone there.
Unable to impact anyone there.
Unable to be anyone there.
Until her.
His Junior.
Saumya.
The first time he’d recognised that she resided in the same world as him was when he realised that her fear, her pain, her under-confidence and her hurt all came from a trauma she had never been able to move on from.
Just like him.
The first time he had tried to touch her there, he hadn’t. He instead tangled himself with her through the things between them, helping her and helping himself along the way.
The day she had pulled away from him, the day he had called her his girlfriend, he had been hurt. He’d felt he was wrong, that she did not belong to that world. That she still had some sanity left.
Then he realised that he had been one step away from triggering her trauma and he had realised that not everyone craved touch like he did. That she had her own abnormal and he had his own.
That abnormal world belonged to everyone and no one at the same time.
He’d tried and be there for her after that. Slowly and surely finding someone to reside with in the lonely world they found themselves in.
He didn’t recognise what he was doing at first.
Helping her deal with her trauma. Helping her become who she wanted to be. Trying to find the exit door of the abnormal world so that she could live her life normally.
The day her father came to release him from prison, he had thought while exiting that prison cell, that his Junior too, had finally exited that abnormal world.
Now he would once again be alone.
The sharp pang in his heart at her not being alone anymore was not jealousy, but hurt, hurt that he wouldn’t have any one to pull him to the normal world.
He did not know then that his Junior had already began pulling him with her towards the normal world they both seek.
He was never more hurt to be proven wrong.
Her father’s initial support was overshadowed by her mother’s refusal to leave the house. Something he had tried to solve by offering up his own space, something he had never done before.
Her mother’s understanding was overshadowed by her father’s pressure to get her married. Something he had tried to support even if it had been a harder hit than whatever he had taken in his miserable life.
The consequences of facing her trauma were overshadowed by the constant presence of the man responsible for it. Roop Mathur was disgusting man who still victimised the person he had hurt inexplicably. He continued to manipulate the people around her so that he could make even more of a victim out of her and while her father tried to fight him, it was never enough.
Jeet never minded much when her father was angry at him. He knew it was coming out from a place of love, but God he wished that her father gained some of the sense that he had applied while earning a doctor’s degree.
The problem was, at the end of the day, she still stood alone. Even after he tried everything, even after she tried everything, she stood alone.
And Jeet could never watch her alone.
So, he continued helping her.
He continued to fail to realise that she was helping him too.
It all came to head again when her fiancé turned out to be a misogynistic piece of shit, who did not respect her boundaries and was getting on his last nerves.
He did not know when protecting her had turned instinct for him, but somewhere along the way it had.
He would always protect her, from her uncle, from her fiancé, from her best-friend, from her family, may be from her father too.
He didn’t know she would be the one who would end up speaking for him.
The moment all those accusations had been thrown at Saumya and him in that hospital room, a backwards countdown had begun in his mind.
Anup Mathur hated him.
Jeet knew.
When he began talking, he was ready to just take it. It was what he did when it came to her.
She did not.
He didn’t know what had happened for her to forego her father’s validation for his sake, but he wanted her to stop.
Her father would not take this kindly.
She didn’t stop.
She couldn’t be stopped.
She had laughed manically and bled tragically before she could be stopped.
When she was taken away by her brother, the only person from who she did not cower away from, and Jeet did not let himself think of how she had panicked for that one moment she had believed he had touched her, to her room to finally rest after she was bandaged, the calmness he had forced upon himself finally exploded.
He started, his voice carrying an edge that he usually reserved for his own father, “Meine aapko bataya tha, ek achha baap kaise bante hai.”
He looked up, at her father, at the reaction he had upon witnessing his daughter’s trauma, trauma that ran deep. Her father was not looking at him, his gaze was stuck on the red stained floor.
Jeet moved towards her father, “Par ek bure baap ka example mujhse behtar koi nahi jaanta hai UncleJi.”
When Anup Mathur’s gaze finally found his, Jeet chuckled, “Dusra example banne mein aapko zyaada time nahi lag raha hai.”
Her father pointed at him, “Jeet tum---”
But Jeet did not let him finish, “Kya Jeet? Kya Jeet? Arrey UncleJi mujhe laga tha ke Saumya ka baap usko sambhal lega, sach jaan ne ke baad uska saath dega. Par aap toh usko kue se nikaal kar khai mein khud daal rahe hai.”
Jeet sighed at his silence, “Yeh pehli baar nahi, Saumya ka self-harm. Uska scrunchie, jisse woh pura din apne aap ko hurt karti hai, snap karti hai apni hi kalai pe. Ghis ti hai apne aapko, jab woh netraheen budha usse chuta bhi hai toh. Gussa ho jaati hai, jab bhi koi normal cheez nahi kar pati hai toh. Aur cycle continue hota hai.”
He scoffed, “Aur aapka solution uska saath dene ke bajaye usse saath maangna tha?”
Jeet pointed his finger at her father, “Jitna bura aapko lagta hai aapke saath hua hai, aapka bhai kamina hai, usne aapki beti ke saath galat harkat ki hai, waghaira waghaira, usse kahi zyaada aur kahi daravana aapki beti ne saha hai.”
He looked up at the window of the room she was supposed to be in, “Usko aapka nahi, aapko uska saath dena hai.”
With that he began towards the door, done for the day.
He felt her gaze then, at his back, and he paused, his feet not following the command of his body, his mind trapped by the feeling of her gaze upon him.
He should turn back and look at her. He should turn back and look at her and comfort her and make her understand that she wasn’t alone. A whisper of her voice carried through the air, undeterminable but hers, something he would recognise anywhere.
His heart did not allow him to turn. He knew she needed him, but he couldn’t bear to look at her like this.
Tired.
Defeated.
Hurt.
She had lost her faith in her family and she was broken and she was hurt and she was crying.
Looking at her would be like looking into the mirror.
All this time Jeet had thought that he was helping her find the exit to the abnormal world, so that she could leave and be normal again.
He didn’t realise that she would slowly end up the same as him, stuck in the abnormal world with no exit door insight.
She had said the right thing that night, that they were the same from the inside. They were kindred spirits.
He could not bear to look at her face, her disappointment at him being unable to help her return to normal again.
He would try again, tomorrow.
For now, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
He could only leave.
He would leave not knowing she wanted him to stay.
Not knowing that she believed that they belonged exactly where they were.
Yeh Fitoor Tera
Anupamaa
