Koyal looked at him thoughtfully.
You think you are failing Mansha, don’t you?
‘No matter how many times divided, a parent’s love is always whole,’ said Koyal.
For a brief moment, their eyes met and then they both smiled.
‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’ Koyal said, slowing down.
‘Go on,’ his eyes said to her.
‘Why don’t you celebrate Mansha’s birthday?’
They walked in silence, and after the longest pause, Atharv spoke.
‘It’s difficult to even pretend to be happy on that day,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nili died a few hours after giving birth to Mansha … so…’
Damn. Mansha’s birthday was Nili’s death anniversary.
‘She was diagnosed with cancer when she was twenty weeks pregnant. A vile, no-cure brain cancer,’ he said in an emotionless voice. ‘She survived for thirty-two weeks and died soon after they operated on her to take Mansha out.’
Koyal felt goosebumps tingle through her body.
Poor, poor Mansha. To be born on the day your mother died – what would that do to as delicate a heart as Mansha’s, she wondered.
‘Mansha doesn’t know, of course,’ Atharv hastened to add. ‘And to be honest, I don’t know how to ever tell her this.’
He paused and seemed to think for a bit.
‘Nili’s death was so random, it … it didn’t make sense. She was young and healthy one moment and gone the next. I…’ and now Koyal knew Atharv was simply thinking out loud, ‘I … struggled to find an answer to “why us?” for the longest time. I desperately wanted to find a reason, a purpose behind it all, something that would somehow make it bearable. But I couldn’t. It was just random. Nili’s death didn’t mean anything, there was no greater purpose hidden behind it that would make it easier for me to deal with it … nothing.’
He paused and then continued. ‘Which is why I knew I had to create something, something bigger and more meaningful that would help me deal with her death and, to be honest, survive the date each year … and I decided to use the one skill I have. Surgery. Each year I operate on her death anniversary, picking up a case that is tough, and try my hardest to save that life. That … that helps me, you know, because now somehow Nili’s life has not gone in vain. Something good can come out of it each year … I can finally do something to make up for that time when I could only sit and watch…’
Koyal tried hard not to focus on the lump that had formed in her throat. But then a part of her was glad.
Because the Atharv she had been best friends with would do something like this. He may have treated her badly, but the core – or some part of him – was the way she knew him to be. The Atharv she had known and loved existed.
‘The tragedy of life is not death, Atharv,’ said Koyal. ‘It is the dying that we do when we are alive.’
Atharv nodded, looked at Koyal and ventured a smile. A precious, tired but gorgeous smile that brightened up the corridor.
It was then that Koyal’s mind went back to the day while still married to Amit, when she’d read that letter from a friend telling her about Atharv’s soon to be born baby.
How her heart had recoiled with jealousy. How she had imagined their happy lives and felt embittered beyond words. How she had envied them their happiness.
When this was what Atarv and Nili had been dealing with.
And then, without any warning, an image flashed in her head.
Atharv, having just lost his wife, holding his newborn daughter in his arms in the hospital room.
Alone and scared. Wishing desperately that she, his best friend, was with him.
And there she was, getting raped by her own husband. Wishing desperately that he, her best friend, would swoop down into her life and save her.
What had life done to both of them, she wondered.
‘Are you okay?’ Atharv asked, staring at Koyal.
Koyal looked at Atharv but said nothing.
There was nothing to say.
27
Three days after the accident, Mansha was well enough to be discharged. One of Atharv’s doctor friends, Dr Kimberly Nash, came to say goodbye.
From a distance Koyal stared at Kimberly and tried hard not to feel small. Literally and figuratively. Kimberly towered above her at five feet eight inches, and in her heels stood shoulder to shoulder with Atharv who was a bit over six feet. Her blonde hair was coloured perfectly and her make-up was spot-on. She was dressed in an expensive suit beneath the white coat and looked more like a glamour model than a doctor.
Conversation seemed to be flowing easily between Kimberly and Atharv, always a hallmark of good friendship. Koyal noted how Kimberly’s pretty face scrunched up with worry when she spoke about Mansha and how a smile lent more beauty to her already beautiful face.
The perfect woman for Atharv, she thought to herself, studying Kim.
As Koyal made coffee for everyone, she could see that Kimberly was trying to strike a conversation with Mansha who had pursed her lips and folded her hands across her chest.
Much to Koyal’s surprise, no matter how much Atharv coaxed her into speaking up, Mansha, usually impeccably mannered, flatly refused to say a word.
‘I don’t like her,’ Mansha mouthed at Koyal a little later. Koyal tried to look sternly at Mansha, but she could do little to control her giggles when the little girl began to pull funny faces.
‘Here, your coffees,’ said Koyal, handing a cup each to Kimberly and Atharv.
‘Oh, thank you,’ Kimberly said, smiling, but when she looked at Atharv taking his cup from Koyal, a look of concern crossed her face.
‘Atharv is a bit particular about his coffee, do you think I should make a cup for him?’ Kimberly said gingerly, careful not to say anything that might offend the woman she’d hurriedly been introduced to as ‘a friend’.
Koyal looked at Atharv and then at Kimberly.
‘One teaspoon coffee powder, one teaspoon water, both mixed furiously till bubbles form. And then a cup full of milk?’ she rattled off from memory.
Kimblerly stared at Koyal and then smiled.
‘Oh … you know,’ she said slowly.
Koyal barely heard Kimberly – all of her was concentrated on Atharv whose eyes, she knew, were boring into her.
‘I remember,’ she said simply, shrugging her shoulders and not looking at Atharv.
When she finally looked at Atharv, he was talking to Kimberly. Atharv was smiling a wide smile and somehow Koyal knew that smile had nothing to do with what Kimberly was saying.
‘Koyal Aunty,’ Mansha asked, breaking her line of thought.
‘Yes, Mansha?’
‘Why are you smiling?’ she asked.
‘Nothing, my love, nothing,’ she said hurriedly.
‘Koyal,’ said Arjun, ‘tell me a bit about SunSoft. I’d love to work there someday.’
From the corner of her eye, Koyal saw Atharv stir. She sensed his surprise and a smugness began to creep up inside her.
The Jayakrishnas, the Chandras and Koyal were sitting in the Chandras’ country house in Kent, having a meal to celebrate Mansha’s recovery. Mansha had been allowed to stay up for the dinner, a treat in itself for Hema had cooked her favourite quiche and she had been seated at the head of the table. The little girl had not stopped grinning since the meal began.
‘Koyal?’ Arjun nudged her gently.
‘Oh, yeah, SunSoft. It’s a fabulous place to work at,’ she said and went on to give him more details.
‘So,’ Atharv whispered to her, leaning forward a few minutes later, a look of utter disbelief on his face, ‘you are working at the most reputed company in the world.’
‘You can’t believe it, can you?’ she said, laughing, staring into his eyes which were at the moment wide with genuine but happy surprise.
‘Koyal Hansini Raje, you barely passed an exam without my help, so no, I can’t believe it!’
‘Wonder of wonders,’ said Koyal lightly, enjoying this conversation immensely.
‘What do you do there?’
‘Ah, I work at the reception,’ she said just for the heck of it, giggling to herself, oddly pleased because this was the first time Atharv had mentioned the past.
‘At SunSoft, I imagine they have ten rounds of interviews for reception too.’
‘Eleven.’
‘Eh?’
‘Eleven rounds,’ said Koyal, laughing, and Atharv joined in too.
‘I’m pleased for you,’ he said, smiling an open, honest smile that made Koyal’s heart feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
‘Well, it’s not brain surgery,’ she said, grinning. ‘Fairly easy to pick a phone,’ and she picked up an imaginary phone, ‘and say, hello, SunSoft London, reception speaking,’ she finished in a mock formal voice before collapsing into giggles.
As Atharv laughed too, Koyal realized that for a few precious minutes, they were back to being Koyal and Atharv from school.
Young, carefree and friends.
Best friends.
A little later when Mansha had been put to bed and the party had moved to the conservatory, the topic took a more serious turn. Arjun began by sharing details of his friend’s divorce and the ugly shades the legal settlement was beginning to take.
‘Oh Koyal,’ he said, without thinking, ‘I heard that you went through a divorce recently?’
Startled at the intrusive question, Koyal’s first reaction was to look at Atharv. His brow was furrowed, his eyes had suddenly turned hard and he was staring intently at his hands.
‘Koyal?’ Arjun inanely persisted.
‘Yes, I did,’ she said simply.
‘If I may ask,’ said Akki who had been silently watching this little scene unfold, ‘why did you divorce your husband?’
Koyal looked up, stunned.
Hema looked like she was ready to hit her husband. ‘No Akki, you may not,’ she said hotly.
‘No, what’s wrong with the question – we are all sensible adults and can discuss this, can’t we?’ Akki asked.
‘I divorced him,’ Koyal heard herself speak in a clear steady voice that cut through the din of her pounding heart, ‘because with him my life was worse than hell.’
‘Why?’ Akki asked.
‘Um … because … it did not work out,’ Koyal stammered.
‘But why? What did he do?’ Akki persisted. Hema glared at her husband.
‘Just … um…’ Koyal mumbled, uncomfortably rubbing a hand over her forehead, ‘things.’
‘These days, people get a divorce for no reason,’ Akki said. ‘Are you sure you had a valid reason for divorce?’
Atharv stared at Koyal. He noticed how she was wringing her hands, how her eyes were darting everywhere and how a thin sheet of sweat was forming on her brow.
‘I don’t really want to…’ Koyal began bravely, but stopped, startled, when the sound of glass crashing on the floor echoed in the conservatory. Koyal turned around sharply.
Atharv.
He sat there, looking calmly at the mess. He then looked at Koyal and held her gaze for one second more than was needed before getting up to pick up the pieces.
‘I am sorry, the glass slipped from my hand,’ he said in his smooth voice.
‘Let me help you clean up,’ said Hema, only too glad for this distraction. The dog bounded in and general mayhem ensued.
Koyal stole a look at Atharv.
‘One of the safest hands in the world,’ one rather fancy article in a medical journal had described Atharv. One of the safest pairs of hands in the world had just let slip a glass of water.
He helped Hema clean up, chattering effortlessly with her, but Koyal could see that his mind was preoccupied. She caught him looking at her several times that evening, the seriousness on his face allowing Koyal a little window into what was going on in his heart.
Later, he came and stood by her. ‘Are you okay?’ His eyes searched into hers.
‘Yes,’ she said, looking down, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked again, softly this time, and Koyal felt tears well up in her eyes.
The most unfortunate thing about memories is that you can’t choose which ones to remember.
Arjun’s questions had brought back the past, and when Koyal sat down in the lounge after dinner, the flashbacks came from nowhere and hit her like an angry storm determined to destroy everything it found in its path.
It was from the time when Amit and Koyal had been unsuccessfully trying for a baby. She had been standing in front of the mirror, doing her hair and had involuntarily shuddered when she had heard the front door bang. Shouting profanities, he came straight for her. He grabbed her by her waist and began to run his hands roughly down her body. She protested, but as always, he ignored her. In a matter of seconds, he had ripped off her dress and was inside her. The sheer humiliation and helplessness she’d felt came back to her as she sat stone-faced in the Chandras’ living room.
‘He is gone. Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you again. You survived the abuse, you will survive the aftermath,’ she mumbled to herself, but it seemed like the floodgates of bad memories had been opened.
‘Believe in yourself. You are greater than any obstacle,’ she muttered, but it did not help.
She looked around helplessly and found Atharv staring intently at her from across the room.
Koyal felt mildly surprised that even as the world seemed to be collapsing around her, she couldn’t help but notice, perhaps clearly for the first time, what a strong, powerful man Atharv had become.
A mad, desperate urge to be in his arms hit Koyal. That was the only place, she knew, where she would feel safe.
The one place she would never find herself in in this life, she said to herself, shaking her head and feeling lonelier than ever before.
Koyal looked away, looked around, as if to find someone else. Someone who would hold her, caress her forehead and tell her that she was okay, that all the horrible things were behind her, that nothing bad would ever happen to her again.
The thing about being strong is that it is exhausting – and Koyal had no energy left.
Her heart was beating faster now and she was breathing deeper.
Recognizing the signs of an asthma attack, Koyal rummaged through her bag for an inhaler. As seconds passed, her movements became more and more desperate as breathing became more difficult.
Gosh, no, have I left it at home? she wondered, aghast, and that thought triggered such fear that she felt she was about to collapse again.
And then just when darkness seemed to gather, the blurry image of an inhaler appeared before her eyes.
Koyal stared at it, wondering if she was seeing things.
‘Take this,’ came Atharv’s voice, his doctor, I-am-in-charge-now voice.
‘Huh?’ Koyal looked, dazed, at Atharv who was now crouching beside her.
‘Inhale,’ he said, gently pressing the inhaler closer to her mouth.
A few gulpfuls later, Koyal closed her eyes, exhausted. A warm, kind hand was pressed against her forehead and Koyal focused on it, her entire being straining towards that comforting touch, her limbs wrapping themselves hungrily around that feeling.
When, a few minutes later, Koyal felt strong enough to open her eyes she saw that Atharv was still crouched near her, a serious, worried look on his face.
‘I am sorry,’ Koyal mumbled apologetically, ‘I … I…’
‘You promised me once,’ said Atharv, his eyes boring into hers, and Koyal stilled because she knew exactly what he was going to say, ‘that you would never be without your inhaler.’
Koyal stared at Atharv, unblinking.
‘I never broke any promise I made to you,’ she said quietly. She pulled her bag towards her, and now that the shaking had stopped and her hands were more in her control, she was able to quickly find the inhaler.
Koyal and Atharv
.
Once friends.
Ex-soulmates.
Lock and key.
Pieces of a puzzle.
They stared at each other, and for a while time conceded to stand still. When he finally nodded, the spell broke.
Atharv took the inhaler he had given to Koyal and was pocketing it when Koyal, surprised, put a hand on his arm.
‘You are carrying an inhaler?’ Koyal asked, making no attempt to brush away the tears that had pooled the moment realization had hit her.
‘Yes,’ he said, staring at the tears, transfixed by their melancholy perfection.
‘Because?’
‘Because I too remember, Koyal,’ he said.
A blanket of warmth enveloped Koyal’s heart and she smiled her widest even as the tears continued to flow. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone had done for her in ages.
Didn’t matter that it involved an inhaler, of all things, she thought to herself, smiling.
Didn’t matter that it came from someone who she had spent the last ten years hating.
28
‘There is someone for you, Ms Raje,’ the receptionist said in her clipped British accent and Koyal wondered who it could be. She wasn’t expecting anyone that afternoon.
‘Please ask them to be seated, I am just finishing a meeting,’ she replied.
Half an hour later, Koyal stepped into the reception and stopped short in surprise. For sitting in the waiting area were Atharv and Mansha. It had been a week since the incident at Hema’s house and hardly a day had gone by when Koyal had not found herself thinking about how Atharv’s hand had felt on her forehead. There is something about genuine concern that leaves a strong mark on any soul and Koyal, deprived more often than blessed with kindness, was no exception.
Atharv was staring too. He had never seen Koyal look the way she was looking now. She was impeccably dressed in a collared, crisp white blouse and a fitted black skirt. Black high heels, understated make-up and nicely done hair rounded Koyal’s at-work look. Smart, professional and gorgeous.
‘Atharv, Mansha,’ Koyal said, finally finding her voice.
‘Well,’ said Atharv, grinning, ‘I spent a fair amount of time with the lovely lady here,’ he pointed to the lady at the reception who visibly blushed, clearly fancying the tall doctor, ‘because I kept asking for a Ms Raje who worked at reception. Turns out there’s only one Ms Raje at SunSoft London and she is the global head of product.’
Someone to Love Page 11