If it is not up to the mark, please understand that this was more of a jest. I had no plans to write it but opted to. This has no pondering over just what I felt along with some music. Unlike Ghosts of Us or Meherbaan this could have loopholes.
This chapter is badly written due to a writers block, but I am trying to get this done and over with.
T H R E E
Ishita hadn't realized that she been crying or suffocating herself doing so until the chauffer stopped the vehicle and checked on her. And the worse reason was that she had no idea why she cried so badly till her chest hurt. Like she had been suffocated for days and years and months. What was it? That it officially ended? That he had taken off his ring? That it had been the day he forced her to take the step of getting rid of what would have been their kids on her own? That he won awards after awards but never once looked for them? If not her, then his kids? That he pushed them out and never once looked back.
The first year she waited for him; for him to hunt for them. She hadn't even tried hiding. She was there in blind sight waiting for him to share his side of his side. For him to come and make amends, but he didn't come. The next year, she wished that he come and save her from her mess. She craved his company no matter how much she loathed him. The next, the wanted to fall at his feet and beg for forgiveness knowing he wouldn't forgive her. And when that ended, she accepted that she was alone.
It had been a summer morning that year that she came home to Adi and Ruhi missing. She had been frantic in an unknown nation with her kids missing. Had they too abandoned her, she questioned herself? Hours of beating herself did Adi and Ru come home with that annoying guy drenched in sweat and smiles on their faces as they filled the house with laughter. She had felt a million of emotions run through at that very moment as she saw them. She hadn't seen them or their happiness; all she saw was the man who kidnapped her kids. And she punched him. Square on his face - her anger, fear, pain and hurt all dissipated in one punch. And then had she wept, almost breaking down on the floor when he held her. He held her in one arm and his nose with the other. He had whispered that he was sorry. And that the kids were alone, without groceries or cash for food, and she wasn't supposed to be home so early. And that he was home and she couldn't be connected to. And they assumed it would be easier to head out and he home on time and here they were before time. He held till she stopped crying. And when she had stopped crying had she realized that she was in a strangers arm and that her t-shirt was soaked in his blood. And as he winced over his broken nose that she tended to, and as Adi and Ruhi stuffed them on popcorn passing comments on their mom was she handed her dinner as the trio watched a movie.
Aryan; she called him that. Demetrius Patel; they called him that. Dimitri, he called himself that. Aryan Demetrius Patel or Aryan Dimitri Patel. The blue eyed half-Greek prided himself on his looks inherited from his Greek mother and could at times be more sanskaari than Ishita herself. Her straight locks to his messy ones, his six foot something well built body, stubble, cheek bones and strong jaw that could give models a run for their money.
She found solace in his arms this night too as he held as she wept her eyes out. To him it was her choosing one door over another but to her it was finding someone who won't judge her for crying, being weak, breaking down or holding on but someone who would protect her no matter what. To him it was giving her time, space and humanity but to her it was finding an universe to bury herself in. He didn't shield her or hide her; he let her face life and then, he wasn't anyone but a stranger to her. She didn't know for how long he held her, didn't estimate how horrific she looked until she saw the mirror or realize that she was drenched till he left her to prepare a bath for her. He handed her clothes, brand new utilities and other necessities.
And when she was out of the shower did he set the table for her, shaking his head at habit of towel drying her hair he made her sit on the chair as he dried his hair for her.
"Should I return?" she said absentmindedly. He didn't reply. "Adi needs cash. Ruhi will need it too. I need to free myself. Should I return?"
"Do you love him?"
"I don't know. I don't know if I love him or if I ever loved him. I can't bring myself to feel anything for him. It's just numb."
He nodded. "Have you told the kids?"
"We need to leave. Adi is turning 18. It's a huge deal. I don't know what to do, Aryan,"
The next few days she pondered on whether she could leave or not. Adi's pre-18 bash was celebrated at Aryan's childhood home. Men in our family have a bash, it's a given.' Adi had his first drink with Aryan; a tiny shot. That should have been Raman, right? That was what crossed her mind but then Raman hadn't earned it like Aryan had. Aryan and Adi bonded better than Ishita and Adi. He hadn't questioned her on how she was raising teenagers or why she raised teenagers when she herself was in her late twenties. He had given her space.
She wasn't the kind to go mingling around with strange men and he never had anyone over.
It wasn't like she met him over a cup of hot chai. She met him when she was handed the contract; two upper positions, a residence and flexible work hours. She wasn't stupid. She had been raw, hurt and betrayed and she wasn't going to be used. She had barged into his office that day and flung the papers on his face. He who had been taking in the view from the top of his office had turned to face her as she slipped over the papers and landed on the floor; square on her but. She had amused him, she knew. She had then given up on his lecture and signed the deed.
The next time she met him had been on Amma's insistence. Amma who was in India called her up about giving the neighbor some sweets since she couldn't get prayers done. She had visited the pen house opposite hers; three floors and the vacant floor above hers they had said. She had expected a family, not a bare chested man who hadn't shaved in days, a pencil in his mouth and glasses on his face as he unabashedly invited her in. She had instead slammed the container onto him and muttered something equally incoherent as she walked back into her apartment. That guy riled her and Ruhi and Adi got that straight on as their mother for the first time in years rambled and cursed in Tamil. Their Amma ad cooked for the town again and they for once had proper home cooked lunch. It was set then. They days Amma had nigh shifts they spent with Aryan, not that they let her know that until she walked in on Aryan tucking them into bed after a movie marathon. She hadn't known if she had to be angry or relieved that the kids weren't alone.
She had questioned him on his motives. Does everyone need to have a motive, Ishita?' he had asked her. And he grew on her before she realized it.
On her 30th birthday he flew Amma and Appa in, let them stay at his place and taken their unusual behavior without a word just to surprise her. The day she, for the first time, spoke about the child she lost he convinced her for a checkup. They went to doctors, consulted specialists and trusted each other without any bonds. On her 31st birthday he had her have the surgery she for years refused to have. 'What if it makes me barren for real?' she had asked him in fear. 'What if it stops you from beating over a fact that can never change?' was his reply.
'Why doesn't anyone love me?' she had asked him in drunken stupor.
'Have you ever thought that maybe you were looking for love in the wrong places?' he had said to her.
'Then love me,' she has said as she kissed him before falling asleep.
'Always,' he had said as he tucked her into bed.
She hadn't known him. She hadn't known men like him. Men who loved without restriction, cared without fear and protected you with all they had. She hadn't met men like him before. Gentle as the sea, rough as the waves and calm as the ocean - nature, personality and demeanor. That was what he was.
She hadn't fallen for him, but there were days she dreamt of what it would be like if she hadn't met Subbu or Raman. If she had been untouched, pure and worthy of a man like him. But she hadn't been that; she had been scarred, imperfect and not meant for love.
She was meant for sex; for unrestricted sex. She didn't want to be meant for that. She wanted to be loved, she craved for company, for a mans touch, for someone other than her kids to return to. She craved to love, to be held, to be cherished, cared for and protected.
Then her dreams shattered as the night turned to day and as reality seeped in. She wasn't meant for love. She wasn't meant for any of it. She was meant to be used and she didn't want that.
That was why she didn't call him the night she left. He didn't need to know. He was a kind man and she was grateful. But she couldn't overstep her boundaries. He was a man who valued decency and propriety and she was a woman who was scarred in every possible way. Men like him did not fall for women like her.
But what was she to do when he stood in front of her all this while trying to prove her wrong; men like him fell for women like her. He fell for her. She hadn't realized it five years ago and she didn't realize it now. He had fallen for her; hook, line and sinker.
Edited by -Ara- - 9 years ago
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
