by Beena Khan
“What's your point?” Kabir asked, confused.
“I mean, she will talk to you. Something happened to her, and she’s not willing to share right now. But she will.”
Kabir was silent as he listened to Aryan’s words. “She tries to get to know you and me. She wants to be close but she’s closed off.”
“She’s only pushing me away.”
Aryan replied, “Do you remember when she asked how you coped after your patient died?”
Kabir nodded, still not sure where Aryan was going.
He watched as Aryan took a deep breath and said, “She asked me how I coped when... Aanaah left.”
Kabir looked at him with surprise.
Aryan nodded in confirmation. “She’s dealing with something but she’s coping with booze.”
Kabir sighed and stared at his hands that were clasped in front of him.
“Give her time,” Aryan said gently touching his shoulder.
All Kabir could do was nod.
❖
The next day, Elif didn't come to the bar.
Nadia and Kabir sat on the bar stools across from Aryan.
“She didn’t come today?” Kabir asked Aryan shortly.
He shook his head no.
“Who is this ‘she?’” Nadia asked, curiously.
Aryan looked at Nadia, before glancing at Kabir.
“Elif,” Aryan replied.
“Yaar, why do you think she drinks so much? I’ve never seen someone with an addiction like that,” Nadia asked.
Aryan shrugged. “I don’t know, my friend.”
“Maybe she’s had a tough life,” Kabir replied softly.
Nadia shrugged and turned toward Kabir. “Right, but so did you. You built yourself up again after Wafa left. You didn’t tear yourself down like Elif is doing.”
“People handle pain differently.” Kabir felt defensive for Elif, a person who wasn't here to correct Nadia’s judgement.
Nadia shrugged. “She’s sweet, though, what could have happened that was so bad in her life? Has she ever told you?”
Kabir didn't have an answer to her first question, instead he asked the latter. “No, she hasn’t told me.”
Nadia looked at him. “Oh, she’s nice though. I care about her.”
Kabir solemnly nodded.
“You’re always around her. Do you like her or something?” Nadia joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Kabir didn't answer, and he began tugging on his fingers. He looked up at Aryan who was staring at him with a knowing expression.
❖
Elif still hadn’t returned, and a week had passed.
Kabir called her phone a few times, but she didn't answer.
❖
Elif returned to the bar after two weeks.
She was sitting quietly drinking her wine. She was wearing a teal, long-sleeve dress, with nude tights under leg warmers. Aryan was busy in the back tending to customers and making custom drinks.
Finally, she covered her legs. She was going to get pneumonia.
He glided by her table and asked, “Are we going to talk about what happened?”
“What happened?” Elif repeated his question, taking a sip of her usual drink.
Kabir sighed. Then, he asked her a question, he had always been curious about. He took a deep breath, ignoring the anxious feelings building up within him. The confidence he had two weeks ago when he stood up against her had vanished.
“Honest truth. Red, why do you drink?”
Chapter 22
Elif turned to look at him in surprise and pondered over his question. He had asked her the same question five months ago when they first met.
She hadn't answered him before, but she trusted him now. She could trust him with the truth. She looked up at his kind, warm eyes. In his eyes, there was no judgment, and she only saw compassion and sympathy.
After he realized Elif wasn't going to answer his question.
Kabir sighed, and he turned around to leave.
“I was married.”
Kabir stopped in mid-tracks and turned around to look at her. Elif had her head laid out on the table as she stared at her drink. She touched the ring on her necklace. Kabir walked back toward her and sat on the bar stool next to her. He faced the bar since she was facing the same way. Kabir wasn’t happy that his assumption about her being married turned out to be true.
Where was her husband? Were they divorced? he wondered.
He hoped.
“Isaah.”
She whispered the name softly, “His name was Isaah. My husband.” Elif’s throat thickened with a pain and grief Kabir had seen before, but now it was too intense. He imagined her heart was breaking as she spoke.
Was.
Kabir looked at Elif whose face was disheartened.
Is this why she keeps herself isolated?
“I wear my wedding ring as a necklace. I married Isaah seven years ago. We studied in the university together, and we fell in love,” she continued.
Kabir tilted his head to her while listening. “How did you two first meet?” he asked softly.
“He was considered the king of the place, the most popular guy at our school. I never met him, our circle of friends was different. I actually hated him at first.” She smiled at the memory.
She took a deep breath before continuing, “One day, I had evening classes. He was riding his motorcycle, and he was speeding. I was crossing the street, and he almost hit me. His handle bumped into my books, and I ended up dropping all of them on the streets. I cussed him out so much. He got angry too and he said, ‘You’re stupid to cross a green light.’”
Elif’s eyes shone down at Kabir, and her lips formed a smile. Her smile warmed Kabir’s soul, as if she was the summer rays even in winter time.
“It sounds very romantic like a movie scene.”
“It is. It was,” Elif replied, her voice breaking at the word, was. The hand that was holding her wine glass trembled.
He leaned over and clasped his hand over hers.
“What happened then?” he asked gently.
“We kept bumping into each other. I was furious at him every time, but now it makes me laugh,” she replied. She took a deep breath before continuing, “This started a rivalry between us. We had a love-hate relationship for months before it changed into something else.”
Kabir looked at her as she spoke.
She has a past no one knows about.
“He loved books too. His father owned a car garage, and he worked there.” She tilted her head toward Kabir smiling. “My car at that time had troubles, and I went to the shop to fix it. I didn’t know he worked there. We began a friendship, which grew into love. We were married for four years. We were happy.”
She continued, “Isaah had one bad habit, he loved motorcycles, and sometimes he didn't wear a helmet.”
Kabir noticed, her voice was changing and getting deeper.
She lost her smile. “He was teaching me how to ride a motorcycle, I was getting better at it. I was confident in riding it. He had been teaching me for one month, but I accelerated too hard, and I hit an incoming car—” Elif’s voice stopped abruptly, and she began breathing heavily.
Kabir clutched her hand tightly.
“It’s okay if you want to stop,” he said softly. He moved closer to her. Kabir knew what was coming, he regretted his earlier thought of wishing she’s divorced.
Elif shook her head before continuing.
“We used to live in Montreal, Canada. I moved to New York because I couldn’t live there anymore. We had an accident...I survived the accident because I was wearing a helmet. Isaah died because he wasn't wearing a helmet. He hit his head on the concrete. The doctors said he had a brain bleed, and he died on impact. He was declared dead on the spot. I watched. I watched as the light left his eyes, and his eyes became empty.”
Oh, oh, oh. Shit.
Kabir watched as her eyes froze over like the surface, robbing them of their usual warm
th. It was as if she took a huge step back from life. During the day, her eyes were the color of the skies. Her eyes were every shade possible from morning to sunset, but during night, after drinking, after sharing her grief, her eyes were the color of death. Her shoulders began to shake as she drew in deep breaths.
Elif gripped the delicate wine glass so tight, it shattered underneath her touch. The glass pierced her skin and she bled.
The sound of glass shattering surprised Kabir.
This was the second time she’d hurt herself.
He helped her to the lounge where he cleaned and dressed her wound yet again. Kabir didn't respond to her previous statements, instead he focused on her fresh cuts and her wounds.
He had noticed her lack of appetite, her numbness, and her overwhelming need to drink alcohol at all times.
Life is too short to hold back.
Kabir remembered her words. He didn't know the significant meaning behind her statement until now.
She gazed down at Kabir who was focused on her hand. He looked up, and he saw her eyes were swollen.
“I didn’t just lose my husband in that incident but also my child. I was two months pregnant.” Her voice began to change. It was hoarse now.
Kabir’s breath was caught in his throat.
He couldn’t imagine the pain she must have felt.
“I didn’t know I was pregnant otherwise I would never have ridden on a motorcycle.” Elif paused for a second, her voice shaky. “l feel responsible for his death because I was riding, because it was my fault we were in an accident. I lost myself that day, and I can't escape from it.”
Elif’s voice had gotten so quiet, Kabir had to strain himself to hear her. Hurt-filled tears ran down her face as Kabir struggled to understand. He glanced at the woman in front of him who had laid out her to him who was unwilling to answer his questions months ago.
She’s a young widow, he thought sadly.
Kabir’s heart went out for her.
“I don’t want to pry again…but you’re so young and a—” He had a hard time forming the word.
“A widow?” she asked, filling in the blank.
He nodded.
She stared at the table. “It’s one of the most devastating feelings in the world...There are two types of pain of deaths in marriages for women. An elderly woman who’s a widow or a young woman who’s a widow. A woman who lived her life with her husband, and he died expectantly, or a young woman who still had to live the life with her husband, and he died unexpectedly. Which is worse? We had so much left to do. We had our whole lives planned out. We were building our lives together, and then something so unexpected happened.”
She looked up at him and asked, “How do you cope with that kind of life?”
Kabir was silent. He always knew Elif had pain hidden inside her heart, but now it was visible on her face. His features softened at Elif’s honesty and her pain. Her emotions were displayed, and she wasn't hiding her feelings anymore. The pain was evident in her face, the way her brow creased and her lips frowned. He stared at her deep pool of eyes, a hopeless grief laid in them.
Kabir held Elif’s hand for a while. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was!” Elif exclaimed. She took her bandaged hand away from Kabir’s hold, and her eyes filled with sadness. He wished her pain could go away but then, realized, that was selfish. She had the right to her pain. She had the right to grieve.
“I was riding the bike. Isaah should have worn the helmet. I always told him to wear one. I shouldn’t have been riding the bike since he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He was stubborn, but I could have refused. I just didn’t realize what could go wrong. If only I did! A single moment can change your life forever,” Elif said.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Kabir simply stated.
Elif was silent and shook her head sadly.
She continued on saying, “My drinking began three months after the accident. Before, I was hesitant because of the taboo and sin revolved around it, but I thought if I drank in moderation it would help cope with the pain. By the fifth month, I was drinking one every day. By the sixth month, I was drinking two drinks a day. A year later, you could say I was an alcoholic.”
“You had family in Montreal right?” Kabir asked.
“Yes, my aunt and uncle. You know my friends and my aunt used to say, ‘Elif, you will see Isaah again one day’ or ‘You will see him in heaven one day. He’s in a better place.’ I used to hate those statements. It was like a slap against me. My pain was still fresh and raw at the time. People should realize they shouldn’t say anything at all. Those statements don’t help even if they might be true,” Elif said, shaking her head.
“Do you think you could ever stop drinking?”
She let out a deep sigh and replied, “I never stopped drinking, but there was a time in my life where I almost stopped. I knew someone...but he turned out too good to be true. It was the same person, one of my closest friends who tried to force himself on me. Now, that moment has gone, and my drinking is even worse now. When I’m sober, I remember the accident, I drink to forget what I did, my actions. It’s been more than two years now, I don’t drink to forget Isaah, but I drink to wash away the guilt. He died because of me.”
“Can you find that moment again?” he asked softly.
Elif shook her head, and smiled dimly, “It’s hard to let someone in now. I tried after Isaah. Remember I learned self-defense because of that one man? It triggered my drinking again and it worsened.”
Kabir remembered. He wanted to reach out to her but he felt hopeless.
How do you give hope to someone who has lost everything?
He looked up at her and said, “On the plus side, you drink wine more often now. That means you’re getting better. You’re changing now. You’re happier.”
He smiled at her, and she returned a sad smile of hers.
“Why are you drinking wine though? What changed?” he asked gently.
She looked up at him. “I found friends.”
Kabir placed a gentle hand on top of hers. All he could do was be there for her and comfort her in her sorrow and pain.
Chapter 23
The night had ended, and Kabir was dropping Elif home. He thought about what she confessed earlier. He turned his face to glance at her. Her eyes looked swollen from crying, but she seemed better now.
“I was engaged once and soon to be married,” Kabir said, turning to face the road as he drove.
Elif turned her face toward him in surprise. “What happened?”
“I met Wafa when I lived in Chicago. We went to high school and college together. She was my first girlfriend and Nadia’s friend. We were engaged, and we were going to get married. It was one of the best times of my life,” he admitted, but then he grimaced. “My fiancée left me at the altar on our wedding day when she realized she was in love with someone else.”
Elif raised her eyebrows at him. “Shit…damn. Well, cheers,” Elif let out as she raised her Fanta bottle toward him taking a gulp trying to lighten the mood. Kabir had banned her from drinking after she cut her hand and gave her a bottle of Fanta to drink instead.
“Why did she do that?”
His eyes dimmed, and in a shaky breath he replied, “I don’t know how people can decide one day, they don’t have feelings for the other person anymore.”
Elif clasped her right hand on top of Kabir’s left one that was by his side. “What was she like?” she asked him.
“I thought she loved me. She was intelligent, pretty, funny, but she was cheating on me,.” Kabir’s voice had gotten low and he gripped the steering wheel he held, a rush of emotions swirled through his mind like a rollercoaster. He fought to regain control of his emotions again.
“I’m still trying to understand why she waited until the last minute to leave. I wouldn’t have stopped her if she wanted to leave. She never told me. If she did, I never would have proposed to her. I wouldn’t force her if she wasn’t happy.”
/> Elif was silent as she listened to him.
“Once a woman decides she wants to leave, a man can’t do anything to change her mind. She was just physically there with me, but she left me a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Elif said in a small voice.
Kabir shook his head. “I couldn’t concentrate in the residency program anymore. I was too focused on Wafa’s infidelity. After my engagement broke, two days later I had a big surgery. That’s probably why I made that rookie mistake and used the wrong blood types. She made it impossible for me to concentrate on anything else.”
Elif took a sharp intake of breath and winced. “Did she ever apologize to you?”
Kabir glanced at her with the corner of his eye, his face still facing the road. “What good will an apology do?”
After a few seconds she replied, “It can bring closure.”
He let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to talk to her. She made it impossible to put myself together again.”
“I'm sorry. That must have been a painful time in your life,” Elif said quietly, not taking her gaze off of him
He glanced at her. “My pain isn’t greater than yours,” he confessed.
Elif turned toward him in confusion.
Kabir lost himself in her eyes for a moment. He forgot he was driving for a second, but he regained focus and turned toward the road. He didn’t want another accident to happen.
How much can one person suffer before it is too much?
She shook her head at him. “Pain is pain. Tragedy is still a tragedy at the end of the day. No one can undermine my pain and say it’s less than theirs unless you have walked a mile in my shoes. The same way I can't say my pain is greater than yours unless I've walked in your shoes.”
“Your husband died,” he said.
“Your fiancée left you at the altar, Kabir.”
“You had a miscarriage, Red.”
“You were bullied as a child,” Elif said protectively.
“You were abused.”
“You’re claustrophobic,” she replied.
“You changed countries.”