Beyond Lies

by Alka Dimri Saklani

  “I will manage.”

  “No, it’s late. I will drop you.”

  I swallowed my self-respect and nodded. Not because it was late, well that was also one of the reasons, but the main reason was that some insane part of me still believed he would give some explanation on the way home. But I was wrong, the journey passed in heavy silence. Every moment of unspoken words between us took me further away from him.

  I breathed when I stepped down from his car and walked towards my home.

  And I didn’t look back once.

  43. Samar

  I let it out the moment I was back home, maintaining my composure for so long was torture enough. The vase crashed into the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces, but I was not finished. I banged almost everything breakable, showpiece, lamps, everything on the wall and only when nothing was left either outside or inside, I sat down on my knees and I cried. Yes, I cried. The kind that emerges straight from the gut.

  “Go away.” My screams pierced the air. “Go away Simran, go away.” It was the first time I had spoken her name in years and the taste of it was bitter in my mouth. Speaking her name aloud freed the tsunami of emotions buried deep down and reminded me she was real.

  “I hate you Simran. I hate you.” I shouted looking at the ceiling, my fists tight on my sides. I had never kissed anyone after Simran and…and…for an instant I was in a lost moment. Simran was the anchor of all my emotions. Every desire led me to her and she…she just shattered it all…she shattered me and herself…she shattered the feeling of us.

  Then why did she never leave me?

  Sometimes our core is tethered so strongly to the past that we can’t move ahead with it, if we have to move, we must leave those stubborn parts of us. Yes, that means splitting in two, a part that we carry with us and a part that is left behind.

  I wanted to give myself completely to Tia, but that wasn’t possible. That just wasn’t possible.

  Would I ever be able to do justice to Tia’s selfless love?

  I wanted to call Tia, but I wasn’t ready. She would ask me about Simran. What could I tell her? She would ask why we had separated if I had loved her so much? What could I tell her?

  Nothing.

  It seemed like the longest night of my life.

  Wait.

  I had lived a night that carried the weight of an eternity, that started to never end. I hadn’t walked past that night, yet. The darkness of that night had blended with me.

  That night beat like a second heart inside me.

  The next day, I was relieved to see Tia’s online sick leave application. I wasn’t yet prepared to see her, not yet ready for her questions. But how long could I hide from her? From the questions I knew I must answer. When she was on leave for the second day, my relief converted to worry and when she was absent for the third day, my worry escalated. Her empty desk taunted me, haunted me. And it was in those moments I was sure; I was not going to let her go. I just couldn’t survive without her; she had become the air that breathed life into me. I needed her. I wanted her. She was mine. And only mine.

  I couldn’t lie to her. She had the right to truth. So, I decided to give it to her.

  I planned to tell her the truth.

  Though how much, I wasn’t sure yet.

  44. Tia

  Mom brought food to my room and I instantly closed my laptop.

  “Feeling better?” she asked me.

  I nodded.

  She took my hand in hers and studied me closely. I averted my gaze. “You know I can make out when you are unwell and when you are upset.”

  “Mom, why don’t you trust me? I just have a headache.” I immediately felt guilty for shouting, but I wasn’t yet ready to talk about Samar.

  “For the last three days?”

  “Ok, I am going to office, if that’s what you want.” I groaned and got up from my bed. I knew I was being unreasonable, but frankly I just wanted to avoid any conversation. She had already asked me more than 100 times what was bothering me. She asked if I had a row with Samar, but I said that I hadn’t. She confirmed about the stalker, no I didn’t hear from him after that, not that it meant anything, because he had been successful in inducing the fear he wanted. Dad had reported the number he last called from and as per the reports it belonged to a girl whose phone was stolen from a mall. He never called from his home or his phone. He was untraceable, and his silence just meant he was planning something scarier, after every disappearance I felt his presence closer to me.

  “I am leaving, but you know you just need to call me if you want to speak.” Mom said, but didn’t leave immediately, maybe waiting for me to speak up.

  Guilt washed over me when she walked out. As soon as she left, tears began to flow. I wasn’t ready to lose Samar. I couldn’t survive the loss. It had been only three days, but his absence already gnawed on me. The longing of his arms gathering me in a hug was so strong that I wanted to turn a blind eye to the secrets of his life. I pushed the mobile under my mattress because the urge to call him was so strong. Could I spend my life with a person who would, in some way, always be a stranger to me? Yes, I told him I would never ask about his past, but was it even a past? Why was the presence of it always hovering around us? He didn’t even open up much about his mother. How did she die? Didn’t people in love share everything? Would there always be moments when I would feel so lonely with him? When someone else’s presence would hang between us? The presence of someone I knew nothing about, someone for whom Samar wasn’t a stranger like he was to me. The thought tore me apart and the tears fell harder on my lap.

  I looked at food and I knew I couldn’t swallow, I just couldn’t. Tears frantically ran down my cheeks when I reopened my laptop, the last words in the search bar screamed at me.

  “Girl names starting with Sim.”

  Sim…I pushed my hands to my mouth, struggling to suppress my cry. I didn’t want mom to come running to me.

  In the past three days I had searched all the possible girl names starting with Sim, why was I even trying? Nothing was left out. There were dozens of them…

  Simi,

  Sima,

  Simrat

  Simran

  Simarjeet

  I even manically tried to search it all on Facebook. How the hell was I even going to find Samar’s Sim?

  Samar’s Sim? The thought reverberated in my mind and a raw pain swallowed me.

  I had tried searching Samar Dixit on Facebook, but to no avail, there were dozens of Samar Dixit’s on Facebook, but not him. He wasn’t there on any social media platforms. And why the hell did I need the help of social media to learn about the person I was planning to spend my life with? Was it a wrong decision?

  I walked to the washroom and washed my face, the image that stared back scared me. My eyes were swollen and red, what a fool I was to even try to fool mom.

  “Tia, Samar is here to see you.” Mom knocked at the door.

  “What?” I didn’t know why I asked, when I heard her words clearly.

  “Samar is here to see you.”

  I wiped my face and walked out. Mom stared at me; her expression grim.

  “Send him in.” I muttered. She begun to say something, but then decided against it.

  Samar walked in, but I didn’t look at him. He sat beside me on the bed and his finger reached my hand. I shrugged away, and hated how his touch filled me with life, how I craved his arms to come around me in a reassuring hug. There was no doubt that love makes people weak.

  “I am sorry Tia; I should have told you about my past.” His voice was hoarse.

  So, finally, he was ready with an explanation. What took him so long? Was he buying time to make up a story?

  Finally, I looked at him and instantly wished I hadn’t. The suffering on his face mirrored mine, and a deep longing swallowed me. I saw the man who trusted me for no reason, the man I could neither stop loving nor doubting, what a horrible combination. I struggled to not lean on him, not tell him how much
I feared losing him.

  “Tia, believe me she is my past, you are my present.”

  “What’s her name?” I just wanted to cut the crap and I hated the shiver in my voice.

  “Tia…please.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Tia…Tia…I…” He moved his hands in random gestures.

  “Name…Samar…name…her name?” I pressed on each word.

  “Simran.”

  The expression of his face changed with her name. His usually composed body lost his grip. The pain of losing her was etched all over his hunched frame, his red eyes brimming with tears and the lump he just swallowed, hands that had closed in a fist.

  Before I knew it, the words were out of my mouth. “What if she ever decides to return to your life?” I held my breath dreading the answer.

  “She won’t.”

  Was that regret in his tone?

  “But what if she wants to?” I asked slowly, firmly, putting weight on my every word.

  “She can’t.” His body turned limp and he no longer looked like the authoritative man I had known him to be. This Samar was someone else; vulnerable, fragile, scared even; how many parts of him were still there to unravel?

  “Is she married?

  His face tensed and he swallowed another lump, his eyes reflected a void, the same kind I saw when I first met him. Then something shifted in him, I couldn’t say what and I couldn’t say why I shuddered. He walked to the window and gazed out at the sky. I was waiting for the answer, not even sure if I even wanted to know it anymore. With every passing second, I was sure his answer wouldn’t comfort me. With every passing second, I regretted asking the question. With every passing second, I feared the answer. It was a while before he uttered the dreaded words that lingered in the never-ending silence that followed.

  “NO…SHE IS DEAD.”

  45. Samar

  The words reverberated through my existence and I held on tightly to the window railing, it was a struggle to keep standing. But I gave the truth to Tia.

  Though it was only half the truth.

  46. The Dark R

  oom

  …Now

  The three ticks in the lock announces the captor’s arrival. Tia isn’t scared anymore. Day by day every nuance of her character has melted into a hatred that is ugly, powerful, and fearless. Her eyes were always transparent, they still are, only the innocence in them is replaced with something dangerous, even sinful, but thanks to the blindfold, the captor can’t see it.

  Tia doesn’t cringe in the corner this time, she knows there is no escape. She begins counting in her head. 1..2…3…4…5…the only way to drift away from the harrowing torture coming her way. She knows she isn’t going to cry this time; her silent tears have left her, along with her hope. But the forgotten hope breathes when the captor opens the lock of her chain binding her hands. After the loud slap the other day, she didn’t expect the captor to take any action for her shoulder pain.

  She dreamt of this day, she thought if ever hands were free, she would fight back, but in this moment, her limbs are lifeless after the long torture and the knife that is constantly on her neck blocking her mind from revolting. She jerks her shoulders to ease the stiffness in them. It’s quite some time before she brings her hands forward. Freedom is her right, but in this tiny moment, it feels like a luxury, a blessing, a dream come true. In her mind, she is preparing herself, this might be her only chance to freedom.

  But before her hope can rise anymore, the captor chains her hand, but this time the hands are chained in front so that the swelling might subside.

  Has the time for the final stroke arrive? The captor wonders while forcefully pushing down Tia’s head, slashing her hair with the scissors. Tia stun the captor by turning back and snatching the scissor in one swift movement. The captor isn’t prepared for this or for what follows.

  Tia spins round and round, hitting in every direction, but the captor moves back swiftly. Tia’s whimpering escalates to screams. She has no idea where the captor is, but today she isn’t going to give up. She won’t allow her captor to harm her, she won’t.

  Because she will harm herself.

  She bends her head and maniacally slashes her hair, chunk after chunk fall as her screams impregnate the dead silence, just like someone’s sin impregnated her innocence. Violently she tries to cut the blindfold, but "the leather is too strong for the weak scissor and weaker limbs.

  But she can’t stop. Tired of dying in bits and pieces, her trembling hands slash herself everywhere her chained hands allow her. Her screams escalate to a raw wail, the kind that emerges straight from the gut, from a dead soul inside a living body. And she crumbles on the floor, on her hairs, and blood and her screams continue…

  The captor smiles. But that smile is like ice. No warmth in it. Yes, it’s time for the final stroke.

  Somewhere in her daze after the prick she remembers she didn’t hear the door lock, but she heard the captor walking out. Clutching the weak hope, she crawls towards the door and pushes it.

  The door opens…

  The air outside is a stark contrast to her suffocating room, and the freedom disorients her.

  Long back, when Tia was brought to this hell, she often wondered if it was a nightmare. The same thought crosses her mind, maybe she is dreaming, she would wake up any moment and find herself back in the hell, but for now she has to run.

  But just after a few steps the drugs starts working, her frail legs tremble and give away, an all-consuming darkness envelops her, and a poem the captor told her long back, in the voice of a little girl, rings in her mind.

  "Freedom is a myth,

  A figment of your dreams

  You will forever be a hostage,

  Of the silence in your screams."

  47. Tia

  Then…

  It was a weekend. I purchased the painkiller from the chemist and walked back home.

  Two days had passed since Samar’s confession, but the pain that radiated from his core still gave me shivers. His back was towards me so I couldn’t look at his face, but his pain didn’t need any expression, it had a life of its own. Its vibes consumed the air and I struggled to breath. Samar was on the verge of breakdown, so I didn’t dare ask him how Simran had died. He didn’t need more questions, he needed comfort, so I had hugged him from behind and only then did I feel the tremors passing through his body. It was a while before he turned back, but I didn’t dare to look at his face, and then he hugged me with a ferocity that shook me to my core, like I was his lifeline. Like he feared losing me…the way he lost Simran…

  Guilt had consumed me for pushing him to that edge. I was upset that I might have pushed him away by doubting him, but if anything, he had become more caring and more possessive. The little rift had only brought us closer.

  Something splintered beneath my foot and my attention shifted to the present. It was the broken leg of a doll. Without giving much thought, I moved forward and saw the broken hand, but what came next blew the air out of me, a deep icy chill crawled over me, left me numb, I tried to shout, but my voice was swallowed by the dread that had already consumed the rest of my body.

  Different parts of a doll were shredded into pieces and her clothes laid in scraps nearby.

  "This can be you Tia…. dress properly.” Those words written with white chalk over the road turned to invisible hands squeezing my neck and slowly the world around me succumbed to a scary darkness.

  The next I knew; a stranger was patting my cheeks. I opened my eyes to find a girl staring at me as I laid in the middle of the road. When I remembered what happened, I wanted to go back to the darkness that had consumed me, at least I could avoid reality. I got up with a jolt and rubbed out the words written with chalk frantically, only when I found a few eyes staring at me did I realise that I looked like an overgrown toddler crawling on a silent, secluded road like a maniac. Not daring to look up, I began to run, and I ran until I reached home to the comfort of my mother’
s arm.

  I was crying hysterically by the time my head found her lap and my hands clutched at her saree.

  Mom screamed for Avinash and Dad and they all huddled around me, but I couldn’t see them, my eyes couldn’t push away the doll shredded to pieces and the message – it can be you Tia.

  Later, I heard dad shouting over the phone, something like what the hell they were doing to find…., but his words came muffled to my ears. Mom’s and Avinash’s words also reached to me in syllables. The thumping of my heart took over every other sound of the world. And I buried my head deeper in my mother’s lap; I never wanted to step out of the comfort of her warmth.

  48. Tia

  A rigorous round of inquiry went on. Police again asked if I doubted anyone. I told them about the man I saw in the mall when I went to purchase the dress, they noted down the description. They also asked if I had any past lovers, someone I had ditched. They asked me to think about proposals I rejected, there were many, but none were recent nor threatening, but still, they noted down the names. The lady constable asked my parents to leave me alone with her for some time.

  “Anything your parents don’t know about? Anything you are hiding?” She watched me intently, trying hard to not miss any lies. What the hell? I wanted to shout but I simply shook my head.