Scared.
No. That seemed too insignificant. Absolutely petrified- would rather endure an hour of Parmeet staring at her creepily rather than going forward, seemed far more appropriate.
Raman could almost touch the aura of restlessness around her. "Trust her to be alright during every other session, and be terrified today. Abhi tak toh bada Jhansi ki Rani ban rahi thi. Aaj Madam ki seeti-peeti gul," he thought, but knew better than to mock her.
And being the caring husband he was, he took her hand and held it in his own. Only to have her hand squeeze it so tightly, that he was sure that the next fracture would be in his own hand. He could feel his hand going numb under the vicious hold of her hand. He wanted to be supportive, truly, but he couldn't help saying, "Are you trying the take revenge for every single time I have squeezed your hand during my blood tests?"
His sarcastic jab seemed to have brought her out of her thoughts, but she simply stared at him and said, "Huh?"
And that was how he knew how much she was dreading the outcome today. No replying jab of her own! And it was ironic considering how much she had to persuade him to go through with this anyway. She had been the one consoling him every single time they'd come here, and today she was the one with all the issues.
"I was asking you if you wanted to get out of here," he replied, observing her reactions carefully.
His answer seemed to have greatly pleased her, as she grinned suddenly and said, "Yes. Let's go."
"Yes. Let's go," he said mocking her tone, and pulled her back to her seat. "What let's go? Have you seriously lost all the marbles you have? I mean I know they were very few to begin with, but still! I used to call you Paagal Madrasan. Why are you so hell bent on proving it right?"
She glared at him; it was a look that would have quelled a lesser man - but he was Raman Kumar Bhalla - the recipient of the CEO of the year awards for years. He was also the recipient of the same death glare every day, for years.
"Shut up. How insensitive are you?! Like really? Instead of trying to calm my nerves, you are increasing my blood pressure. What is wrong with you?"
"If I started reassuring you every single time you become hyper, I'll have to leave my job and sit with you the entire day," was his derisive reply.
"I repeat - Shut up! If you can't console me, stop bugging me. I don't have it in me to deal with you," Ishita replied scornfully. The real nerve of Akdu Raavan Kumar.
"Oho! As if I want to spend all my time with you. Stop thinking so highly of yourself. Majboori hai isliye jhel raha hoon. Shauk nahi hai mujhe," he snorted.
"What majboori? Did I force you come here? I don't see any handcuffs binding me to you."
"You don't?" he said, acting as though surprised, and then added, "I have been in shackles since the day your father bound you to me! When have I ever been free after that?"
She poked out her tongue at him, real mature, and then, as if remembering where they were, continued sinking herself into the depths of insecurity.
"I don't like hospitals," he said, after a few minutes of complete silence.
"I know."
"Why did I marry a doctor then? Fake as she may be, but still - a doctor!" he shuddered as if noticing it for the first time.
This time, Ishita snorted. "Nahi aate na. There wasn't a need for you today, you know."
He shook his head in a negative gesture and reminded her, "Kyun nahi aata? It's my future too."
She smiled at him for the first time in the day, to which he couldn't help but smile back. Then she raised her eyebrow. "How are you so calm today? I am the sane one every time."
"I have decided that one hyperventilating person is enough. Or else, these doctors will notice us and will have to treat you for all the different mental illnesses you have and I'll be the one left taking care of you."
"Kuch bhi!" she scoffed and they both grinned at each other.
"Waise, I don't understand why you're so nervous!" he said and she gaped at him with a scalding look.
"Hold it in with the sarcasm, Madrasan. I meant besides that," he reprimanded.
Sarcasm. She'd show him sarcasm! "Well, other than the obvious fact that the next hour or so will determine our future, I can't think of much."
He rolled his eyes at that. "Look, Ishita, we've already had a conversation about this. This is getting tiresome real quick, okay? If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, we'll go from there," he replied. This was apparently the wrong thing to say though, because he could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. But instead of the verbal lashing he was expecting, her lips began to tremble and her nose grew a deep shade of red. Sure signs of an upcoming crying-fest.
"Main hi gadha hoon! What was the need to remind her? Such a fool," he thought to himself. Before the hospital staff, especially the ward boy who had been eying his wife for a long time, and the media could be alerted about the fact that Raman Kumar Bhalla's wife had burst out into noisy tears while in a conversation with him, he decided to take matters into his own hands. And there was also the fact that he hated to see her cry. Not very important, he reminded himself, but still lurking around somewhere.
He took a deep breath, knowing that he was entering into a world of pain, and sat down on in haunches in front of her. "Ishita, look at me."
When she refused to do that, he sighed again, forced her head in his direction and took her hands into his (again). "Tum kya saste paani ki tanki ki tarah, baat baat par leak karne lagti ho! Why are acting this weird today? Everything was alright till yesterday night."
"Because yesterday is not today. Yesterday was not the day when we'd get to know if I'm pregnant or not. If we are having a baby or not! Yesterday was the not when we had to sit in the hospital and wait so bloody damn long for an appointment - which let me tell you was for nine and not ten - the staff is lying! Yesterday was also not the day when Mummyji bought me that idol of Krishna. And yesterday was not..." Her rant was stopped when her husband, dared, yes, dared to interrupt her.
"Stop with the yesterday vs. today essay. Har baat par shuru ho jaati ho yaar tum! Mauka chahiye bas!" he stopped her and then finally, looked at her seriously.
And she found some comfort in his eyes. Because they spoke volumes and currently the mirrored the look probably in her eyes - stark terror.
"Look. We took a decision on this together, right?" he asked her, and she meekly nodded her head.
"Then I don't see the point of this entire drama right now! We've been doing this thing for months...months, Ishita. And you...you dolt," he said, when he couldn't find the right word to address her, "now you have nerves! So many invasive and painful tests, and you're like, "Sure. Something else you want to do to me. Any more needles you want to poke me with..," and now when everything is said and done, you're nervous. Everything is done! We just have to know whether the tests are going to be positive or not. They're not even injecting you today..Are you mentally imbalanced?" he said, mocking her voice. She narrowed her eyes at him and pinched the hand he was holding hers with.
"You are so violent, woman! Everyone thinks Ishita bahu is such a simple and docile woman, but as soon as everyone's away, you start manhandling me! Domestic violence ke naam par divorce de dunga, samjhi na?!" he retorted, licking the spot where the wench had dug her nails into.
"Mental torture ka kya jo aap mujh par kartey hain? And don't joke about divorce, okay? We've been there and done that."
He had the shame to look contrite at her reply, mouthed a "Sorry" but refused to comment on it.
You see, there were a few things you never talked about with Ishita and Raman. Shagun was the first and foremost, with almost an entire category to herself, the incident when Raman had gone pant-less was the second; then there was the drugged up on morphine Ishita, and finally there was the non-existent divorce between them. Never open the aforementioned topics or they could lead to anything from shouting to bloodshed. Raman had never actually been as pleased as he was of being the hospital at that moment - or his wife would have kicked him in his junk, or better even, castrated him.
"The point is that after everything that we have done, the doctors have done - if it still doesn't happen, then we'll have to accept that it just wasn't meant to be. And we already have Ruhi. So, does it really matter if we have a third Junior Madrasan or not?" he continued after the interlude.
Ishita smiled thinking about the only person (other than the certified "You'll only get hard love from me, Paagal Madrasan" husband) she would gladly die for. And she knew he was right. Ruhi was enough. She would always be enough. But Ishita still longed to have full rights over a child. Ruhi was her child, Ishimaa was her mother, but she'd always have to share her with Shagun. She hadn't minded it much in the beginning, but as the months had passed, it had begun to dwell on her that although the mother-daughter duo could never have another person who did it quite like they did for each other, Shagun still had the power to snatch her everything from her. Call her insecure or jealous, she loved being a mother to Ruhi and she wanted that power, that fulfilling relationship again. This time without the additional emotional baggage and feeling of incompetence. She knew that she could never love another child more than Ruhi - it was psychologically impossible - but the first steps, the first time the baby said "Dada," the first time it took tiny little steps, the first time it grasped its tiny little fingers around her hair - she wanted all that. With Raman and Ruhi at her side.
She sniffed, and gave Raman a laugh that sounded like a frog croaking because she was so chocked up, which in turn cracked him up. "Are you laughing or trying to scare people away? Because that ward boy over there, he was checking you out till now and now he looks like he suddenly has gotten so busy, as if he has to write the next Hamlet!"
She grinned naughtily at him and said, "You were looking at who was staring at me, Mr. Bhalla? Are you jealous?"
"Are you dreaming?" he taunted. "I was just looking at the poor bas***d who was thinking of you - he doesn't realize how difficult life is with you! Your lectures, samaj seva, ego...God! Only I know the truth behind this innocent faade of yours."
"Puhh-lease. Don't lie to me. You can never keep your eyes, or hands, away from me."
"Stop flying so high. I know how much advantage you take of me. Always finding reasons to touch me! Woh toh, I am a decent man, or else..."
"Decent man, my foot. And fine, I am with you only because of your hot body. Waise bhi, what else do you have? Always taunting me, deriding me, scolding me!"
"Do you have any shame?" he said, mock scandalously, "Where is the Ishita who would blush when I saw her stitching that hook on her blouse. And when I told her that I had noticed her behind. Tab toh, you were all "Chii!"."
"What can I say? You have created a monster and I don't..."
She stopped bantering with him abruptly, because she could see the nurse coming from behind him and suddenly everything inside her had stopped. Raman must have sensed her stillness, because he had a questioning look as he turned towards whatever had shocked her to complete silence and impassiveness. And then his heart stopped too.
"The doctor will see you now." Six words that brought them back from the happy place they always went into while with each other. He had nodded and motioned the nurse to go ahead, only to turn back to his wife.
She suddenly didn't look so terrified anymore. "Ruhi has asked, no, ordered, us to bring her a younger brother or sister. When have we ever disappointed her?"
Raman grinned one of his splendid - reserved for his family, not so much a stoic and heartless businessman - smiles and held out his hand to her. "I can't face an angry Ruhi anyway. That blowing away her fringe and then pouting with her hands on her waist. She is scarier than you on your worst days."
She had responded with one of those pleased smiles of hers that made all of this pain and effort worth it for him. "Let's go. Get some happy news. And another Madrasan to trouble you."
And together they had walked into the room that would decide whether they would find their special share of happiness of not.
The ending - you decide. Fairytale or tragedy is your take.
1) I will write a Prologue for this story. It'll be more emotional and less bantering - a take on their decision to actually go for surgery and IVF treatment. But I am only a lowly 1st year Med Student, so you'll have to excuse the flaws.
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