by Nikita Singh
Akriti continued to cry. These weren’t the kind of tears one normally saw, caused by mild pain or distress. Her cries were deeper, as though coming from a very dark place inside of her, raw and gut-wrenching. It made him feel hopeless, like nothing would be right again in the world.
‘Akriti,’ he said, his voice tortured. He put his hand on her shoulder and gently coaxed her to rise. ‘Akriti, please! What’s wrong? Please talk to me …’
Whether it was the sound of her name or his touch, he didn’t know, but Akriti finally turned her face and looked at him. Her eyes were ringed red, blotches of colour staining her face, betraying her anguish, even as she wiped away her tears. ‘Siddhant …’ she said, and fresh tears escaped her eyes and flowed down her cheeks, unchecked.
Encouraged by her acknowledgement of him, Siddhant helped her stand up. He held her in front of him, clutching her shoulders, supporting her weight. She was looking at him, her eyes locked into his, while the rest of her face crumpled as fresh waves of grief rocked her.
‘What’s wrong?’ Siddhant asked. He spoke quietly but sternly. In order to help her, he had to first find out what had happened.
‘That was my … my stepmother,’ Akriti finally said, gesturing to the phone in her hands. Before she could say more, she broke down again, staring at her phone, almost as though she was scared of it. Her knees buckled.
‘What happened? Is she okay?’ Siddhant tightened his hold to keep her upright. ‘Hey, Akriti, look at me, please. Is your mom okay? Did something happen to her?’ His voice broke without warning, because as he said those words, a chill crept up his spine. His own mother wasn’t exactly the warmest or most loving mom who doted on her son, but just the thought of something happening to her knocked the breath out of his body. The feeling was so sudden and shocking that he staggered, caught off guard.
‘No … no, she’s fine …’ Akriti was shaking her head furiously. ‘She’s fine. She called … she told me …’ She fell silent, as if she had no strength left to say the words, as if the words were too hard, too horrible to say out loud. Siddhant kept holding her, bracing himself for terrible news, giving her the time she needed to form the ugly words. Akriti shut her eyes. When she opened them, Siddhant was looking at her quietly, with concern, waiting for her to speak. As if drawing strength from him, she spoke again, the words rushing out of her. ‘She said my dad had a cardiac arrest … that he didn’t make it. He’s gone. My dad’s dead.’
She fell forward on his chest, gasping for air, and he held her as tightly as he could, while her body trembled violently with shock and grief.
Chapter 2
Siddhant went through the motions of getting himself and his stuff together, preparing for a long overnight shift at the hospital. He shoved his freshly laundered scrubs into his backpack, followed by his water bottle. He looked around his room absently for his keys. His mind wasn’t in the room with him; it was hundreds of kilometres away.
‘Oh, hey. I didn’t realize you were home,’ he said to Priyesh as he grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter.
‘Just got back from the hospital,’ Priyesh said, falling back on the couch and propping his feet up on the centre table. ‘Today sucked.’
‘What happened?’
‘Lost two patients.’
Siddhant looked at his friend who was lying back on the couch with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slowly with deep, deliberate breaths. Siddhant had had many of those days himself and knew better than to ask for details.
‘That really sucks,’ he said shortly.
‘Yep,’ Priyesh said, opening his eyes. ‘How’s the girl doing?’
Siddhant shook his head. It had been ten days since the night Akriti’s father died, and she wasn’t doing any better than she had been the night they first heard the news. Every time they’d spoken on the phone since then, which was every day, just for a few minutes, she’d sounded as bad as that night outside the restaurant.
‘That bad, huh.’ Priyesh said it more as a statement than a question.
There was nothing to be said. Just thinking about losing one of his parents made Siddhant’s throat dry. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrible it must be for Akriti, losing her father without warning. As far as she knew, he was perfectly fine that morning. She’d spoken to him on the phone, and picked up no signs of an illness, not even a cough or a groan.
Siddhant had very few details about what had happened, medically. But he understood that it wasn’t his place to inquire, especially given Akriti’s current state. He wished he could do something to make her feel better, but there was nothing to be done in these initial days of mourning. Temporarily salving the pain wouldn’t heal the wound caused by her father’s untimely demise. All he could do was be there for her when she called on his phone, whenever that was, and cried.
But even though he took all her calls, and frequently called her himself to check on her, he always felt worse after hanging up, owing to his inability to help her in any way. He’d never been very good with words or expressing himself. He was raised in a household full of practical people who were fierce followers of reason and action. In this case, there was no logic involved, no real action to take. He found himself completely useless.
Feeling worse than he had all week, Siddhant made his way to the door, completely unexcited about the fourteen-hour shift ahead of him. ‘See you later,’ he called to Priyesh, who mumbled something back.
Siddhant woke up in a cold sweat, his temple throbbing. He blinked in the darkness. What had woken him up? Was that a sound? He strained his ears, but heard nothing. Sitting upright in his bed, he looked around. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was able to make out the vague shapes of the furniture around his room.
His phone rang suddenly, giving him a start. In the still night it seemed to be inordinately loud, and reflexively, he picked it up and spoke into it. ‘Hello?’
‘Siddhant …’ came Akriti’s broken voice from the other side.
‘Akriti? What’s going on?’ He was suddenly wide awake, her distressed voice causing a jolt in his stomach.
‘I don’t know. I just … don’t know what to do.’ She was crying.
Siddhant searched for words to comfort her. ‘I know it hurts so much right now, but you won’t always feel this way … It will be okay, Akriti,’ he said. ‘Trust me, it will be okay …’
‘Will it?’
‘Yes,’ Siddhant said with more conviction than he felt. ‘You’ll feel better tomorrow.’
‘How do you know?’ Akriti said, almost as a challenge.
‘Because … because it’s a new day. They always say time is a powerful thing … so maybe tomorrow you’ll feel less sad.’
Akriti didn’t speak.
‘I know it hurts,’ Siddhant spoke into the silence. ‘It’s supposed to hurt. What you’re going through … I can’t even imagine. I won’t pretend to know how you’re feeling, and how you’re managing to go on, every single day. But you are. You’re being so brave … It’s okay to break down. You’re in mourning, you need time to absorb it all, and be okay again … This isn’t something small that can be pushed under the carpet. I know that your entire life has changed … but you’ll make it. Trust me. You’ll feel better tomorrow.’
Siddhant waited for Akriti to say something, and when she didn’t, he lay back on the bed, his phone to his ear. He heard her breathing become erratic, and slowly turn into sobs.
‘Akriti,’ he muttered.
She cried for what seemed like hours. Siddhant stayed on the phone with her, sometimes silent, sometimes whispering words of comfort. He couldn’t tell if he was making her feel better or worse, or if anything he said was even making sense to her. She would be quiet for a moment, then break down again. It was hard for him to determine what was making her cry or what he might do to help her stop crying.
But he didn’t give up.
A long while later, she finally said something. One word.
&n
bsp; She sniffed, paused, and in a barely audible murmur said, ‘Thanks.’
Siddhant smiled. She was feeling better! He’d helped!
He felt happiness in her small moment of positivity. Akriti talked for a little longer after that. She told him that their house was filled with relatives, and everyone was asleep. Except for her. She was in her room, dreading the terahvi ceremony that would take place the following day to mark the thirteenth and final day of mourning rituals for her father. A lot of people had arrived from out of town to attend the terahvi. The thought of seeing them, and listening to them talk about her father was overwhelming. She didn’t explain further, and Siddhant didn’t ask, once again trying to be respectful.
They didn’t stay on the phone too long after that. Akriti sounded much better than she had at the beginning of the call, so Siddhant felt like they’d made some progress. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, but it wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that he finally fell asleep, having spent most of his night tossing and turning, trying not to think about the horror of losing someone he loved.
He thought about his parents, whom he hadn’t seen for a year. He thought about his brother and sent him a text. As he slipped into an uncomfortable sleep, Maahi’s face floated into his dream, jerking him awake. What if something happened to her? What if he never saw her again? What if the last time he ever saw Maahi was the morning they had broken up? His insides knotted painfully. He felt like he had to throw up.
He paced back and forth in his room, shaking thoughts of her out of his mind. He never permitted himself to think of her. They had broken up. She wasn’t allowed in his thoughts. Because if he thought of her, and everything they had had together and then lost … No, stop, there’s nothing but pain there. But what if something happened to her and he could never see her again … STOP.
So, he stopped. He had one year of practice; it wasn’t as hard to put up his walls anymore.
The following morning, Siddhant had a fully baked plan in his head – he was going to call in sick at the hospital. They were not going to be happy about it, and he’d definitely have to face his bosses’ wrath when he returned to work the following day (but he couldn’t worry about that yet – he would have to cross that bridge when he got there). Then he would board the first available flight to Amritsar and visit Akriti.
After their phone conversation the previous night, he knew that she needed someone beside her and even though he really couldn’t take any time off from work, he had to prioritize this visit. This was important and couldn’t wait – he had to be there for Akriti’s father’s terahvi. Despite what his parents had raised him to believe, his career wasn’t everything.
He threw a change of clothes in an overnight bag and forty minutes later, was at the airport. Fortunately, he had a short wait until the next available flight, and to his pleasant surprise, he landed in Amritsar sooner than he’d imagined. As he walked out of the airport, he realized that he had no idea what Akriti’s address was.
He called her, but she didn’t pick up. In a moment of inspiration, he called their mutual friend, Prachi, who’d set them up. She did know Akriti’s address but was surprised to find that Siddhant had gone to Amritsar to see her. That gave Siddhant a pause. For the first time that morning, he wondered if what he was doing was a little creepy. His intentions were good, but Akriti hadn’t exactly asked him to come … Was he intruding?
But he was already there, and he wanted to make sure that she was doing okay, so he pushed these thoughts from his mind and hailed a cab. He could tell it was the right place, even from a distance. There were rows of cars parked on the sidewalk, and as they drove closer, they saw hundreds of people collected under an open tent, outside a large four-storeyed mansion.
Apart from being wealthy, as was evident form the size of the mansion, the Aroras were clearly popular, judging by the number of people who had shown up to pay their respects. Siddhant got out of the car and looked around, unable to spot Akriti in the immense crowd. A few people glanced at him curiously as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way towards the gate of the mansion.
He paused and looked around again, but before he’d finished scanning the crowd, he heard her voice. It was coming from somewhere to his right, and he followed it. He saw her kneeling in front of an old lady, who was sitting in a chair with her face in her hands, and talking to her, trying to comfort her.
Siddhant hung back and watched her. She looked so small and weak, even as she attempted to help someone else with her pain. He waited till Akriti stood up and turned away, wiping the tears from her eyes. As she began to walk away, Siddhant stepped forward and called her name.
Akriti turned around at once. ‘Siddhant!’ she exclaimed. Her face changed into what started as a smile, but ended in a sob.
‘Hey,’ he said when he reached her. He found himself at a loss, wondering what to say. They’d only known each other a couple of weeks, and even though they’d talked on the phone every day since their date, this was only the second time he was with her. The last time they’d been together, she had cried on his shoulder. Now, surrounded by hundreds of strangers – her relatives, neighbours and acquaintances – he felt extremely conscious of how much of an outsider he was there.
But in the next moment, Akriti had thrown her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, and the awkwardness passed. ‘You’re here,’ she said between sobs. She looked up at him and repeated, ‘You’re here.’
‘I had to come,’ he said as if to defend himself. Then added softly, ‘I couldn’t let you … face this alone.’
Akriti held him tighter, with an urgency he had never known before, and Siddhant felt his ears burn with emotion. She was clinging to him in a way that showed him how happy she was to see him, and while that felt good, he was slightly embarrassed by how happy that made him feel.
He was very aware of the people around them watching them. Regardless, he snaked his arms around her and hugged her back. When Akriti finally pulled back, she looked up at him and smiled. Siddhant’s heart melted. It was great to see her doing better … or at least comparatively better, given the grave circumstances. The way she had seemed every time they’d spoken on the phone had left him really concerned about her. He allowed himself to finally relax.
‘What are you doing here? How do you even know my address!’ Akriti said cheerfully. There were dark circles under her eyes, but her smile shone through.
‘I woke up this morning, and I knew I had to be here with you today,’ he said truthfully, ignoring how cheesy it sounded.
‘That is just the most thoughtful thing …’
Siddhant shrugged, not good at taking compliments.
‘No, it is! I never could’ve asked you to ditch the hospital for me, but I didn’t even have to ask …’ As Akriti said this, her expression turned more thoughtful. She studied his face, as if searching for some sort of sign. ‘Thank you,’ she said at last.
‘No, don’t thank me,’ Siddhant said. ‘It’s nothing. I just … How are you doing? I was worried about you, because last night …’
Akriti nodded. ‘Yes, yes, I know. I’m sorry if I scared you. I was … I felt like shit and didn’t know who to call.’
‘You can always call me.’
Akriti smiled again, and slipped her hand into his. ‘Come with me,’ she said, pulling him inside the house. She steered him through the living room and up two flights of stairs to reach what he knew immediately to be her room.
It was a large room painted in a dull shade of pink, with a round white bed in the dead centre, encased within delicate net hangings. Every inch of the wall on his left was covered with photographs. Everywhere he looked, he saw Akriti’s face – at different ages and places, with friends, with a man who was clearly her father, selfies, smiling, sticking her tongue out. He turned to the girl beside him and grinned.
‘Don’t judge!’ Akriti said. ‘I was a cheesy teenager. So, what?’
‘I
didn’t say anything!’
‘You didn’t have to! I can see you standing there, silently judging me. And this is not even the worst of it! You haven’t seen my posters yet.’
Siddhant followed her gaze to the wall on his left. This wall was also hidden, but behind dozens of posters of the Spice Girls, Britney Spears, NSYNC and some other musicians and bands he didn’t recognize. A little ‘wow’ escaped his mouth.
Akriti punched his arm playfully and pulled him to a couch that was propped against the closed window. They sat down, and exhaled together. They were quiet for a few minutes after that. A kind of awkwardness settled between them. They were suddenly alone in a corner of her room, probably the only people inside the house while hundreds gathered outside. In the distance, they could hear women wailing. A particularly loud cry pierced through the walls, and made the hair at the back of Siddhant’s neck rise. He couldn’t bear the silence between them anymore.
‘Is your mom okay?’ he asked.
Akriti nodded.
Siddhant nodded back at her, and they fell silent again.
‘This is weird. Like … a sanctuary,’ Akriti said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘This. Us. Sitting here alone, quietly. While outside … it’s the exact opposite. Complete chaos.’
Siddhant looked at her. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m better now,’ Akriti said sincerely, looking him in the eye. ‘This moment feels so surreal to me, like … like you’re saving me or something.’ She laughed out loud. ‘Sounds so cheesy, but you know what I mean? It feels like a refuge, away from all that madness and sadness.’
‘I know what you mean.’ Siddhant thought about how his heart had raced when he first saw the crowd. It had all felt real, all of it, all together. There were so many people, so many tears.