I try to be very positive but i am so thoroughly dissapointed today that my positiveness has vanished. I am sure it will bounce back after a while but for now my heart goes out to Kunal and this is what i feel he should have written had he written his diary! I could not think of a descent closure so sorry if you feel its closed haphazardly in the end.. đ
As I sit in this dimly lit Bar, I wont say I have fond memories of this place. I have often come here in past to hide from the world, to hide from my own self. A self that is too stern on its own decisions, actions and words spoken or left unspoken. It's a place where I go back to all of those and scratch open my wounds once again. Today however there are no wounds, no tears. Today I am dead. I am beyond everything and everyone.
I have just been accused of killing my own younger brother so that I could marry his beautiful girlfriend that I know is now waiting for me at home with worried face and eyes full of tears as my wife. I have also been accused of raping her in anger because I could not rape my ex girlfriend that I thought I loved dearly than any other woman I ever met for as long back I can think of. Had it not be my own life, I would have laughed at this comedy of errors but I cannot. Every word that Thakral barked in the courtroom is still replaying in my head. It has dried my tears. I can feel their sting in the white of my eyes but don't see them flowing freely. For the first time in my life what is really bothering me is not the way I was humiliated in the same Court room where I have won all my cases before but for the way Siddhi stood in the witness box grappling for words. Did I rape her? Does whatever that transpired between us accounts for marital rape? Thakral insulted the very moments in which she took respite in my arms, the moments in which I found solace in the crook of her neck and she did not say anything other than sobbing violently. I felt cheated by the absence of vehemence in her words and those tears! I hate them. I hate it when she cries. If I could have my way, she would never have to shed a single tear. Even when my mind flared with hatred for Thakral and his daughter, even when my heart wept with the treachery it felt because of Siddhi's silence, I still wanted to hold her in my arms as she collapsed crying. I wanted to wipe those tears and protect her from every bad word, every single bad thing in this world.
I should, at this time, be home and ask her if indeed this is how she had felt? Raped, stripped off her dignity as I claimed her mind body and soul, or so I had thought. I should ask her if she goes back to that night just as fondly as I do. If mere recalling those moments, so many days and nights of sleeping apart, still burn her with same desire as they burn me. I should ask her if her eyes had flown open that night, just before the dawn to find me sleeping next to her just the way mine did. I still remember how I had found myself unable to peel my eyes away from her smiling face. She looked cared for, loved and protected. Just the way I like to see her. Her sindoor had half vanished.. her mascara and kajal had flown down on her cheeks.. their tracks were however interrupted at places by my kisses, I guessed. My lips had curled into a smile as she had shifted just slightly so that she could snuggle some more, even when there was no gap between us to fill in. I should ask her if she remember how her fingers were still entwined in mine, even long after we were satiated. I could feel her insecurity in losing what we had newly found. I could see her fears. I had then wrapped my hand around her, in a grip that would let her know that I was hers all along. Even when Richa had tried to take disadvantage of my inebriated state, I had her name on my lips. I should ask her if she had , if she had indeed come to the Hotel after me that night, heard me saying I Love You Siddhi. I should ask her if she recalls the moment before sleep had claimed me, how I had kissed her forehead to say sorry for not toeing the line I had myself drawn around our relationship, to respect Anand, to respect her feelings for him. I should ask her if she felt my lips on hers, one last time that night, as I promised silently to make her happy for rest of our lives. I should ask her if she had felt the twinge of disappointment and sadness as I talked about filing for divorce. If she had seen in my eyes a wish and hope that she would protest, finally say something that would assuage my guilt, words that would reassure me that she loved me just as much I loved her, words that would tell me whatever happened last night was the most beautiful moment of our lives, a silent acceptance of the relationship and of our own selves but nothing came. I should ask her if she had seen the mute anger and helplessness in my eyes as she asked for a pen and signed those divorce papers even without as much as a blink. If she had seen how I was craving for and was expecting a different response to my inability of expressing my feelings. How as a woman who had loved my brother, who never shied away to speak her feelings for him would just be as fearless to tell me that I was a moron to think that she would even think about separating, that she wanted to spend her life with me, that Anand was her past and that I had not replaced him in his heart and life but I had carved my own place that was just mine! I should ask her if she felt how my hands were trembling with anticipation as I offered her the paper napkin as she cried in front of the judge as he asked her if she wanted to the divorce. Had she felt how morose I had looked as she said it was our families that she was thinking of and not about me, her husband. Yes. I should have asked her if she recalls any of this. So many questions. They had all remained unanswered as the knock on the door next morning had knocked on the guilty doors of my mind as well. It was Anand's barasi. It had been an year he was gone. Not a day had gone by without missing him around me but last night had changed so many things in me. As if things had fallen in place, finally. The calmness that had come over me in those moments was perturbed by my father's knock. All this while, as I wandered on the streets, I thought about asking her these questions. She must be shy I had thought but when I had come home, I had found her hugging Anand's photo and crying. That had created ripples in my mind as if someone had thrown a stone in a clam lake. I had curbed down all my questions but deep down I knew that she had never repented those moments. Never. Till date. Her silence in the court now has answered my questions. More than anyone else, I hate myself more for falling in love, all over again, with even more helplessness and longing I had felt last time. For thinking that my world would now not be complete without Siddhi and her love in it. For thinking that the six months period was a blessing in disguise that would allow me to get over the past, both her and mine to finally tell her how much I love her.
As I write this, now I know, this is not possible. Our worlds can never come together. Yes. I love her. I love her with all my heart and with every being of my existence but i have come to realize that our pasts are far more important and powerful than our present and we clearly have no future. Kunal Chopra was a changed man. A man that bowed down to Siddhi's love, care and sacrifices but that man is now dead. What is remaining is just a shadow of what I used to be and that's how I shall live, for rest of my life. Present everywhere but no one can touch or claim as their own. I am reborn again, never to go down in ashes for Siddhi or Richa or any other woman! Peace out!
