Everyone Has a Story 2

by Savi Sharma

  I loved her laid-back attitude; it made her the ideal hostess for our needs.

  I was sitting at the sofa, frowning at the disjointed thoughts on the journal in front of me, when Kabir and Nisha came back with the baby asleep on Nisha’s shoulder. They nodded to each other meaningfully and shared a quick kiss before Nisha tiptoed up to the second level to lay Jianna down.

  ‘How was the beach?’ I asked Kabir quietly after Nisha disappeared, her coral dress swirling around her legs.

  ‘Hmmm?’ Kabir asked and I realised that in his mind, he had followed the two up the cool steps. Perhaps it was the dress. . . he told me all the time it was his favourite colour on his wife.

  I grinned. ‘I asked how the beach was,’ I repeated.

  ‘Oh, very beautiful,’ he said, his eyes still on the stairs.

  ‘Was the sun too much?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, Nisha brought a huge umbrella with us, so I was able to sit in the shade. Oh, how she fussed over me. But, I’ll admit, I loved every minute of it. You’d think I’d be sick of being babied by now!’

  I grinned. ‘I think it’s called taking care of you,’ I clarified. ‘It’s not babying.’

  With a light step, Nisha descended from the second floor. Despite the heat outside, she looked fresh and content. Without even asking, Kabir handed her a tall glass of cool water. She smiled softly and stepped into his hug. ‘And you take care of me, too, Kabir.’

  ‘Not as much as I should have these last few years,’ he said, giving me a sad smile over the top of her head.

  ‘Nonsense,’ she said, pulling back to kiss him lightly on the lips.

  Feeling slightly like a voyeur, I watched the two banter. It was so encouraging to see Kabir back to his old self; to see the two interacting so intimately, almost like newlyweds. With little Jianna, they were the sweetest family, taking care of each other, leaning on each other when circumstances demanded.

  Love will always push past adversity, and triumph, I mused.

  I thought about Vivaan and what he said about going to Rajgad Fort. He didn’t even tell me, but even if he had, would I have really paid attention to the significance of that day for him? I’d been so wrapped up in my own misery of losing the book deal that I was barely giving time to his hurting the last few weeks. I knew that the drugs weren’t his, but in all the time and effort he took to make sure I had absolutely believed him. . . did I put that same time and effort into convincing him that I did trust him?

  I didn’t know, my mind said. But in my heart, I knew the answer was no. I was so upset with what had happened to me that I didn’t take the time to show him that I still trusted him. That I still believed in him, my Vivaan.

  Why was I sitting in here, when I should have been with him? If the roles were reversed, how would I feel sitting on a beautiful beach by myself, while he was holed up in a villa working? I was sure I would have told him I understood, and part of me probably would. But I was also convinced that, deep down, I would have been hurt. Was that how he felt?

  Some things only happen for the briefest moment, like a raindrop. You can catch it and hold it close, but if you don’t reach out to capture that drop of water, you lose it forever. I needed to capture this moment and find Vivaan.

  I closed my journal and went upstairs to freshen up. I put on some fresh clothing and pulled my hair up. Then, gazing at the person in front of me in the mirror, I put on makeup with more care than I had in a long time. One thing I had learned: don’t ever stop trying to impress the one you love.

  Going back downstairs, I was glad to see Kabir and Nisha still there, although they were so wrapped up with each other that I had to cough to get their attention. ‘Can you point me in the direction to where Vivaan is on the beach?’ I asked.

  By then, the two of them had settled onto the soft leather couch. Nisha’s legs were tucked across Kabir’s lap and they were whispering. I waited for a second and realised they hadn’t even heard me. ‘Nisha!’ I said loudly and giggled a little when the two jumped like two schoolkids caught in a forbidden embrace.

  They both turned to me, blushing in the soft afternoon sunlight. ‘Did you need something?’ Nisha asked absently.

  ‘Can you tell me where Vivaan is?’

  Nisha, her attention broken by Kabir’s nuzzling, gave me directions. I had no idea if she even knew her left from her right at that point, she was so distracted. But Kabir didn’t seem to find any fault with her instructions. Of course, I thought to myself as I slipped on my shoes to walk to the beach, he probably didn’t know up from down by then either.

  ‘We’ll be gone for several hours ,’ I said pointedly, and softly closed the door behind me, leaving the revitalised couple in peace. I didn’t think they heard me leave.

  I was actually quite surprised to find Vivaan as easily as I did, given that Baga Beach was a very crowded destination. In fact, when I first stepped on the sand and slipped my shoes off, I looked around, disoriented by the throngs of people.

  But of course, he had been my true north for a very long time; all I had to do was think about him and our paths managed to cross, even on a heavily populated beach. And there he was, stretched out on a large towel under the umbrella Nisha had set up to protect Kabir’s delicate skin. He seemed asleep as I approached but when I was only a few steps away, he opened his eyes, looked directly at me, and smiled.

  I reached out for his steadying hand as I sat down beside him and snuggled my hip against his. Instinctively, our arms went around each other’s waists. We fit so perfectly together. Falling in love means opening yourself up to someone else. It is as natural as breathing.

  I laid my head on his shoulder, smelling the salt and the sun on his skin. His arm ran up and down mine and I loved feeling his strong hand caressing me. It felt so right.

  Love is the healing force in the world, and one cannot discount its power. It defines us. It changes us. We just have to allow it to happen.

  I felt Vivaan’s shoulder drop a little bit and I looked up, just as he was dipping his head down to brush his lips against mine. As we kissed, I felt his pain, but I also felt his love.

  There is only one person for everyone. That is the person that you want to laugh with, to cry with. They make scents smell sweeter, flavours dance on our tongues, and melodies in the dullest sounds. This is the one person who you want to bare your soul to, opening doors that are locked up tight to every other person in the world. You can see your life reflected in their eyes, and it is so amazing, you never want to close your own eyes. This person makes the most insignificant moments into celebrations just with a kind word, a phone call during a stressful day, or a simple hug. The words ‘I love you’ are no longer three flat, almost meaningless words, but a constant festival to mark your days together. I had met that person, and that person was sitting right beside me.

  We talked about everything and nothing. No subject was too much or not enough. At that moment it was just us. Together. Nothing else mattered.

  We talked for hours about everything, my writing, his company, our early months together. When we got tired of sitting, he pulled me to my feet and we walked down the beach, our hands laced tightly together. We smiled at the dogs stretched out on the warm sand, and then laughed as a cow wandered on to the sand, soon to be joined by a small herd. People watched them, but nobody seemed to be annoyed by seeing the large mammals on the sand.

  Regret isn’t in what we say but in what remains unsaid. ‘Can I tell you something?’ I started tentatively, not wanting to bring back the darkness in Vivaan’s eyes, but desperately wanted to address what he considered the failure of his company.

  For a second, I did see the shadows return, but they dissipated quickly as he gave me a magnificent smile. ‘You haven’t been saying enough?’ he teased. ‘I thought we’ve been talking all afternoon.’

  I gave him a smile back and took a deep breath. ‘It’s about your company, Vivaan. I know it has been tremendously unfair and very hard on you, but I do
n’t see it as the end. You can run and hide from a problem, but its proximity doesn’t make it go away.’

  He hummed a little. ‘I don’t know if it is or not, Meera. When I lost the company, I felt like something was ripped out of my heart. I’ve been feeling like such a failure. No. A victim.’

  I looked earnestly in his eyes. ‘Don’t consider yourself a victim. Someone took advantage of you and that cost you a lot, but it didn’t cost you everything. What happened challenged you. It hurt you and damaged your reputation. But you cannot give up. Your hopes and dreams may have departed from the path you expected, but they have not been denied to you.’

  ‘You don’t think so?’

  ‘I don’t. We need to hold on to our hopes and dreams because if we loosen our grip, they seem to take wing, but will crash to the earth if we allow them to.’

  ‘They did crash, though,’ he said.

  ‘Destiny doesn’t make life happen one way just because we demand it to be so. When life is in pieces, we have to take those pieces to build something new.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I do. We are given challenges but we are also given hope. Bad things can happen quickly, but amazing things can happen just as quickly. Today, our book of life is open to a sad passage, but the page will turn and our book will become happy once more.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ he said. I watched him smile and then frown once more.

  ‘What are you thinking about, Vivaan?’

  ‘The person who did this to me. To us. I don’t know what I would ever do if I saw him again.’

  ‘Forgiving someone is reaching into the fire. There will be pain, at first, but then you start to heal and live again,’ I said. ‘We think it is okay to be angry at another person, but that hatred is an acid, eroding at our very soul. But you have to forgive yourself first, if you fail at something, or didn’t do something you should have done but kept putting it off. When you forgive yourself, you can truly move on.’

  ‘I worked so hard to start Musafir, though,’ he said angrily. ‘Even time can’t buff out some memories. But I have to admit, I have been feeling sorry for myself.’

  I responded gently. ‘Self-pity is such a destructive emotion, Vivaan. If you need to, give in to it, but only give it power for a few minutes. Then lock it back up and move on with your life. You can’t live if you are mired down by this emotion, and what a waste that would be. Nobody wants to struggle, Vivaan, but those challenges bring with them the gift of living. Give in to the pain, let it convey its lesson, and then ask it to leave.’

  ‘I hate pain,’ he grumbled.

  ‘The hurt within you can be pushed away, but—like water—it is going to seep back into your heart. You need to let it fill you sometimes, so you can use it to rise to the top once more.’

  He grinned and cupped my cheek with his hand. ‘You are a wise woman.’

  He moved to kiss me, but I had more to say. ‘There, in your face, I can see pain and sadness. But I also see threads of hope in your eyes and I know they will grow stronger.’

  ‘How can life make me feel so fragmented while I also feel so unbroken?’

  ‘Because life does that sometimes,’ I whispered. ‘There is a time for everything. A time for pain, yes, but also a time to heal. We can’t change who we were, but we can change who we are.’

  ‘You love me,’ he said simply.

  ‘I do. And so, I feel you. Love means truly feeling the same hurt that someone else feels. But it also means sharing their happiness as intimately as if it came from you. We will be happy again, Vivaan.’

  As the bright sun slipped into its orange evening cloak and started its evening trek toward the horizon, we wandered to one of the restaurants beckoning customers with lively music. I texted Nisha to let her know we would be dining out; she texted back that they were doing the same.

  ‘Do you think Pari will mind?’ I asked her.

  ‘Pari’s thrilled,’ she texted back. ‘She’s watching Jianna!’

  Well, that settled it. Vivaan and I relaxed with our beverages and anxiously awaited our food, which turned out to be a delicious version of Navratan Korma. I’m pretty sure I hummed happily throughout the entire meal. Maybe it was the salty air, maybe it was the different food, but I’m pretty sure my satiated feeling was because Vivaan and I were once more in sync with each other.

  After dinner, we left the colourful lights of the beachside restaurant, following the darkness back to the mumbling surf, whispering its secrets just beyond our vision. In the cooling night air, we walked back up the beach, following shadowed landmarks until we reached our abandoned umbrella. Silently, not wanting to break the magic, we gathered our belongings.

  We headed back to the villa and I was content, knowing we were both literally and figuratively walking the same path together once more.

  And from now on, we would take each step to our future hand in hand.

  23

  FATE

  Wow, so they really think they can fight me? You know, sometimes, being able to see what all four are thinking is as annoying as listening to a song played off-key.

  I’m not sure how this happened. I was supposed to crush them with adversity. My plan was to liven things up by making them fight for their happiness . . . and fail.

  Instead, here they are, trekking off to Goa and starting to piece things back together. I really thought I pushed them down much, much harder. These four are tough, I guess. Much tougher than I imagined. Of course, we are only talking about emotional movements so far. So maybe, even though they think they have the worst of everything behind them, in reality, peace of mind is not as important as they believe it is.

  They still have so many things to work through.

  We have to see how Vivaan is going to pull off a career. Even if he doesn’t have Musafir, he still has to make a living. He can’t live on love, after all. I’m sure he’s going to do something, but will it ever be on the grand scheme that he had planned? I doubt it.

  I am enjoying watching Meera struggling with her writing. She had it too easy before, her first books came without much of a struggle. Maybe she is just going to have to give up on her writing too. It certainly seems like hope is trickling through her fingers.

  It’s fun watching her toss and turn at night, eyes opening wide as she tries to figure out how to make her book move forward. Because that car has most certainly run out of petrol. I think she better start thinking about a career for herself. Maybe she can work for Vivaan. . . oh, wait! He doesn’t have a business anymore! Ha ha!

  And then, there are Kabir and Nisha. In her inspired attempt to reunite everyone with their dreams, she pretty much sapped the rest of their savings. We all know how bitter couples can grow when they are fighting about money. I hear that that is one of the top causes of divorce.

  It’s looking like this trip to Goa might just blow up in Nisha’s face.

  They are fools, total fools.

  Just because you expect something to work out one way doesn’t mean it will. That is what puts the spice in life though. And I am much stronger than them.

  I am the bird that flies through the storm. Why? Because I can. I have the strength to pull my wings through the winds and the rain, weaving in and out of warm and cold drafts.

  You can try to keep up with me; you can push yourself to fly through your own storm. Just be careful you don’t smack into a wall while you’re dancing on the breeze. Hitting things when you’re travelling at a high speed. . . well, it isn’t very forgiving.

  24

  VIVAAN

  Our amazing three days in Goa were about to end. Tonight was our last evening in this amazing beach community . . . at least for now.

  I woke up early and slipped out of the villa, wanting to take an early morning walk in the community and maybe head to the bustling Mapusa Market, hopefully before it became too busy. I wanted to pick up a gift for Pari to thank her for opening up her home to us.

  As much as I e
njoyed the sand and surf, I also loved walking through Goa’s neighbourhoods, taking in every nuance of the town. After visiting Braganza House with Meera and Pari yesterday, I began to see subtler Portuguese influences peppered throughout the town, from a colourful tile pattern to distinct arrangements within the lush gardens in the area.

  While walking, I let my thoughts drift over our entire trip to Goa, one that was truly a brilliant decision on Nisha’s part. Usually the quieter of the couple, Nisha’s gentle mind inserted the practical aspect into Kabir’s dreams. It was uncharacteristic of her to make such a bold move like arranging this trip, but in typical Nisha fashion, it was well-thought out and I was touched to think that while she could have limited the trip to her family, she extended it to include Meera and me.

  I learned several things over the last few days. Watching Nisha and Kabir’s love rejuvenate, much like mine and Meera’s seemed to have, I realised how quickly two people could be separated by adversity. Even challenges thought to be positive, such as Kabir launching Kafe Kabir, could turn negative if people didn’t respect and take the time to care for the people around them while following their dreams.

  Ironically, despite my travels often taking me away from Meera, we had managed to stay close. Until I lost my startup with the drug fiasco. Then, when I was forced to stay home and was physically closer to Meera, we seemed to start to drift apart, because her focus was on losing her book deal and mine was on losing my company. Instead of turning to each other for support, we turned into ourselves.

  We were all fortunate for this trip to help us refocus and reprioritise. I was most thankful for Meera and the talking-to she gave me the other day. It was as if she collected the pieces of myself that I lost and fused them back together, bringing them home to my soul.