part 7:
Sarita sat at the glass table in the spotless kitchen, surrounded by gleaming granite work tops, polished walnut cupboards, and shining marble tiles. She had just had a cleaning frenzy and her mind still wasn't clear. Every time the phone rang, she leaped at it, thinking it was Sheela, but it was Divya. She still hadn't heard from her sister. Sarita couldn't bring herself to tell Abhi what was going on, but of course he knew there was something. Vikrant was right, children had a sixth sense for that kind of thing. He was such a good child that as soon as he sensed Sarita's sadness, he knew to retreat into the playroom and she would hear the quiet clatter of building blocks. She couldn't bring herself to say more to him than to tell him to wash his hands, fix his speech, and or- der him to stop dragging his feet.
She wasn't capable of holding her arms out to him. Her lips couldn't form the words "I love you," though she tried in her own ways to make him feel safe and wanted. But she knew what he really wanted. She had been in his position, knew what it was like to want to be held, cuddled, kissed on the forehead, and rocked. To be made to feel safe for just a few minutes at least, to know that someone else was there looking out for you and that life wasn't just in your own hands you weren't stuck living it all alone in your head.
Vikrant had provided her with a few of those moments over the past few weeks. He had kissed her on the forehead and rocked her to sleep and she had fallen asleep not feeling alone, not feeling the urge to look out the window and search beyond for someone else. Vikrant, sweet, sweet Vikrant was shrouded in mystery. She had never known anyone else who could help her realize just exactly who she was, help her find her feet. But she was struck by the irony that this man who jokingly spoke of invisibility actually did wear a cloak of invisibility. He didn't know himself, where he came from, where he was going, who he was. He was putting her on a map, showing her the way, yet he had no idea where he was going himself. He liked to speak of her problems, help heal her, help fix her, and he never once spoke of his own. It was as though she was a distraction to him and she wondered what would happen when the distraction ended and the realization would dawn.
She cursed as she picked up another of her sketches, scrunched it in a ball, and threw it across the room to the bin. It landed short of it and, not being able to cope with something out of place,she walked across the room and delivered it to its rightful position.
The kitchen table was covered in paper, coloring pencils, children's books, cartoon characters. All she had succeeded in doing was drawing doodles all over the page. It wasn't enough for the playroom and it certainly wasn't the whole new world she aspired to create. As usual, the same thing happened that always happened when she thought of Vikrant; the doorbell rang and she knew it was he. She rushed to her feet, fixing her hair, her clothes, checking her reflection in the mirror, gathering her coloring pencils and paper. She jogged on the spot in a panic, trying to decide where to dump them. They slid from her hand, and swearing, she dived down to pick them up. Her papers flew out of her hands and floated to the floor like leaves diving and landing in the autumn breeze.
"Hi, she said, refusing to look at him.
"Hello, Sarita".
"So, what have you got there?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts. "Oh, nothing," Sarita mumbled, folding the pages together.
"Let me see it." He grabbed the sheets. "What have we got here? Donald Duck, Mickey Mouse." He flicked through the pages. "Winnie-the-Pooh, a racing car, and what's this?" He twirled the page around to get a better view.
"It's nothing," Sarita snapped, snatching the page from his hand.
"That's not nothing, nothing looks like this." He stopped talking and stared at her blankly.
"What are you doing?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. "Nothing, see?" He held out his hands.
Sarita stepped away from him, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes you are worse than Abhi".
"Oh. What are you doing on the twenty-ninth?" He swung himself around on the tall bar stool at the breakfast table and watched her rooting through the wine bottles, face twisted in concentration.
"When is the twenty-ninth?" She locked the cabinet and searched through the drawer for a corkscrew.
"It's on Saturday."
Her cheeks pinked and she looked away, giving her full concentration to opening the wine bottle. "Nothing. why".
"sarita, would you come out with me on Saturday?"
"What makes you think that i would??"
"Ohh sarita, please. you have to and you will. Come home by 9 on Saturday" he tipped his cap, and disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.
Before He left the house, He called in to Abhi in the playroom. "Hey there, stranger," Hevsaid, collapsing on the beanbag. "Hi," Abhi said, watching TV.
"Have you missed me?"
"Nope." Abhi smiled.
"Wanna know where I've been?"
"Hanging with my mum"
My mouth dropped open. "Hey! What makes you say that?!"
"You love her." Abhi laughed and continued watching cartoons.
I thought about that for a while. "Are you still my friend?"
"Yep," Abhi replied. "But Abhay is my best friend."
Vikrant pretended to be shot in the heart."
Abhi looked at me and sighed, worried. "Vikrant?"
"Yes."
"Remember you told me that you can't stay around all the time, that you have to go to help other friends and so I shouldn't feel sad?"
"Yes." I swallowed hard. I dreaded that day.
"What will happen to you and Mumma when that happens?" And then I worried about the part in the center of my chest that pained when I thought about that.
Vikrant in a room which seemed like a place in heaven. there were no doors not because nobody there could open doors, also because doors were considered as barriers to the flowing love.
"Here I am, God. You called" Vikrant addressing an elderly man.
"I m very dissapointed from you, Vikrant".
"But why, i did nothing" Vikrant said, while spinning on the chair. it was his new favourite hobby.
"sarita...what about her?"
"Ummm...I m helping her" Vikrant said, then remembering the days spent with her. they were more than the help.
"But you have to say good bye to her...Soon. How do you feel about that?"
Vikrant thought about it, his heart thudded in his chest, and he felt as if it were going to move up through his throat and out of his mouth. His eyes filled. "I don't want to," he said quietly.
He thought about his life without Sarita and he raised his voice louder, more confidently. "I don't want to say good-bye to her. I want to stay with her forever. She makes me feel happier than I've ever felt before in my life and she tells me that I do the same for her. Surely it would be wrong to walk away from that?" He smiled widely, imagining the feeling of being with her.
"Oh, Vikrant I knew this would happen." There was pity in his voice and he didn't like it. He would have preferred the anger. "But I thought you of all people would have made the right decision a long time ago."
"What decision?" Vikrant's face crumpled at the thought of having made the wrong one. He began to panic.
"You should have left her a long time ago," God said sadly.
"But I couldn't leave her." Vikrant sat down on the chair before her desk slowly as the sadness and shock crept through his body. "She kept seeing me." His voice was almost a whisper. "I couldn't leave until she stopped seeing me."
"You made her keep seeing you," God explained.
"No, I didn't." He stood up and walked away, angry at the suggestion that anything about their relationship had been forced.
"You followed her, you watched her for days, you allowed the small connection you both had to blossom. You tapped into something extraordinary and made her realize it too."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he spat, pacing the room. "You have no idea how either of us is feeling." He stopped pacing, marched up to her face, and looked her directly in the eye, his chin lifted, his head steady. "Today," he steadied his voice and spoke with perfect clarity, "I am going to tell Sarita Suryavanshi that I love her and that I want to spend my days with her. I can still help people while I'm with her."
God's hands went to her face. "Oh Vikrant, you can't!"
"You taught me that there was nothing that I couldn't do," he disagreed. "No one else will see you but her," God exclaimed. "Sarita won't understand. It just won't work," she said, clearly distraught by this revelation.
"If what you said is true and I made Sarita see me, then I can make everyone else see me too. Sarita will understand. She understands me like nobody else has ever done." He was excited now by the prospect. Before it had only been a thought, but now, now it was a possibility, he could make it happen.
"You forgot that she would age, and you wont. And with each passing of hers, she wouldnt see you".
Vikrant was traumatized by this sentence. She would age and he wont, she wouldnt be able to see him. He just walked out with a lump in his throat.
Vasudha
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