by Nikita Singh
But once again, she had not expected what was coming next. As soon as the assignment ended, she had gotten the news of his tumour being in the fourth stage. This time, a surgery was not possible, because of the unfavourable location of the tumour. Also, they did not have the means to pay for a surgery. They chose the second option-radiation therapy.
That is where her Paris-savings went. Since then, she had bounced back to her feet and had been taking up and working nights on any job she was offered. The Ahluwalia's mansion and a few good ones before it had let her form a decent reputation. Although no assignment she took up was as lucrative as that, she was slowly and steadily working her way to taking her father to Paris. Just that this time around, she did not have much time to waste; Mr Sen's condition was deteriorating by the second and the psychiatric symptoms were beginning to show-depression, emotional instability and anxiety.
Initially, her aim had been to earn enough just to be able to take him to Paris. But after the detection of the real state of her father's ailment, she realized that she needed the money soon. There was not much time left. There was not much progress in her savings, since all her income went into getting him a private ward at the hospital and keeping him there. She had blamed the progress of his tumour on improper and inadequate medical attention, so she did not want to take that risk again and therefore, to make sure his condition got proper attention, she had shifted him to the hospital, under twentyfour hour surveillance. But maintaining a place at the hospital was costlier than she had initially anticipated. Paris seemed like a distant dream. Going to Paris won't cost too much, but with all her earnings going into his medical care, she did not have significant savings left.
On top of it all, pregnancy was not something she could handle. That, apart from the shock, was the reason she had broken down and called Arjun. Slowly, she had begun to depend on him. He had become her escape from the world of gloom-seeing her father in misery, struggling with the expense of keeping him in a hospital, saving for Paris and finding a stable source of income.
She was the type of person who shared her happiness, but not her sadness. Her friends didn't know about her father's condition. They just thought that she was too busy making big bucks to have time for them. The only friends she had left were Mili and Tutul. Mili understood her, and supported her no matter what. Tutul was with her almost all the time due to working together, and had no reason to complain. Other than that, she had practically stopped going out, started forgetting birthdays and stopped calling her friends up. Eventually, they had forgotten her, too.
She did not mind. She was too involved with her work; she had priorities and responsibilities to take care of. And anyway, she had Arjun; he was all she needed. All her free time was spent with him. He was there with her and was a perfect stress buster, even though it might seem the other way round.
She had been pleasantly shocked when he told her about the hotel he had bought so that they could spend more time together, working. He did not know it, but that had been a boon to her in more ways than one. They could not have had a functional relationship had they not been working together; she would have been too busy on other jobs. By working together, they had time with each other and her source of income was taken care of, too.
But all that changed that day. The news of her pregnancy was just a shock to her initially. But once she told Arjun about it, his reaction more or less told her that she was on her own. Her life lay in pieces all around her-she did not have the one man she loved with her anymore, and on top of that, she had an unborn child growing inside her. She was already on the verge of breaking, taking care of her father, she could not handle a child too. On top of that, with the unpleasant exchange with Arjun, she could not work with him again. So she would have to quit the hotel assignment, leaving it in an unfinished state to fish for another job.
Of all the things going wrong in her life, what really pained her was losing Arjun. She loved him, even after all the caustic remarks he had made that day. He did not trust her. She was sure he had a good reason for having his reservations, and she hoped that he would realize that soon and come back to her. Because at the end of the day, despite the anger she had seen in his eyes, she knew that he loved her.
It is only when we truly need support that we realize who our real friends are. Those who make our enemies their own are the truest of all.
ood morning, Dad,' she greeted cheerfully, when she saw him open his eyes.
'Morning,' he mumbled gruffly.
'How are you feeling this morning?'
'I feel a sharp throbbing in my ears. Could you try and stop shouting? That might help.'
'Oops, sorry,' she crinkled her face and went over to kiss his forehead. 'Now seriously, how are you?'
'Fine,' Mr Sen nodded. 'I was going to ask you that question.'
'Who, me? What can happen to me?'Shambhavi said loudly, the pitch of her voice extra high.
'Shambhavi?'
'Yes, Dad?'
'I'm your father,' he said shortly.
The smile on her face disappeared in one second. She had fooled the world that everything was okay, but not her father. She knew that as soon as he gained consciousness, he would know something was off, and she was right. He had seen right through her facade. Suddenly, tears threatened to attack her. She felt the first prickling at the back of her eyes and blinked rapidly to prevent tears from flowing.
That was when Mr Sen motioned her towards him. She crashed on his chest and burst into tears. It was nice to have him take care of her, after it being the other way round for so long ... actually since she had grown up enough to realize that her father was just a lost child. It was a miracle he had managed to sail through the time his wife died, leaving a four-year-old daughter behind for him to take care of. He looked after her for six years, after which she turned ten and realized that her father was the one who needed to be looked after. Since then, she had been the grown-up and he the child.
As she sobbed in his arms, she realized how difficult it must be for him to see her like that. She knew he hated being bedbound and helpless and she tried her best not to make him feel like he was burdening her.
'Tell me about it?' he whispered.
'Promise you won't be mad?'
'What did you do, Shambhavi?'
'Promise you won't be mad?' she repeated.
'I can never be mad at you. You are the perfect daughter and the sweetest girl. You can never do anything wrong.'
'But I did. I know you will be mad at me. Hell, even I am mad at me.'
'Enough with the suspense. Out with it,' Mr Sen prodded. He was clearly getting anxious.
'Dad ... I'm pregnant,' Shambhavi whispered and closed her eyes. She was telling her father that his unmarried daughter was carrying a baby. She did not want to think about what kind of thoughts it must have triggered in her father's head. He would see her in a different light. She wanted to tell him that she was not that type of a girl, that she had been with a man just once, and that she truly loved him, but she was too ashamed to mention even that.
'Okay ...her father said slowly.
'There's more. The father of the baby is no longer in my life. He left me when he got to know. I'm ... I'm alone in this,' she broke down once again.
There was a long pause, in which she thought about everything that had gone wrong in her life in the previous year, ever since she had found out about her dad's sickness. She expected her father to be mad at her; any father would be, and rightly so. But anger was one expression missing on Mr Sen's face. Instead, he smiled warmly at her and said, 'No, you're not. I do not know how much longer I have to live, but one thing I do know is that as long as I'm here, you'll never be alone in anything.'
'But Dad ...? You are not angry?'
'No, I'm not. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation behind how it happened.'
'There is not. I was just so stupidly in love,' Shambhavi replied, feeling frustrated.
'Ah. There it is. Love.
That is reason enough for every evil,' he father smiled.
'But Dad, how come you are not angry with me? I am unmarried and pregnant. You are my father. Aren't you worried about what people will say? This just does not make any sense.'
'What people will say has ceased to matter to me. You probably do not want to hear this, but I have seen death from too close, too many times. When something like that happens, a person tends to see things the way he should have, all his life. What society thinks or says doesn't matter, Shambhavi. Not one bit.'
It seemed like her father had grown philosophical due to the sickness. Maybe that was what he did, lying on the bed all day. Maybe he should write a self-help book, she mused.
'But it does to me. Can you even imagine what my friends are going to say? They will laugh at me. I'm going to have a baby. First, I am way too young for that. And second, I do not have a husband, not even a boyfriend. I'll be the mother of a child whose father no one will have any idea about,' Shambhavi panicked.
'Listen to me, kiddo. If they laugh at you when you're going through this, they are not your friends. And frankly, they should not matter to you at all.'
Shambhavi nodded in understanding. She knew Mili and Tutul wouldn't laugh. That was enough for her.
'And another thing-you said you are going to have the baby?'
'Isn't that obvious? A woman gets pregnant-she gives birth to a baby'
'Not necessarily. There are other ... options too,' Mr Sen said.
'You mean, like ... an abortion?' Shambhavi asked slowly.
'Yes.'
'Do you ... want me to?'
Her father sighed. 'It depends on you, doesn't it? It is your baby, after all. You are the one who should have the right to decide.'
'That's a different thing. Answer my question. Do you want me to get an abortion?'
'I would suggest so, yes. My life might end any day. No one knows how much time I have left to live. But you have your whole life in front of you. I would like you to find a man, make a home and live happily.'
'But, Dad, it's not like I have an option. The baby is already there-in me. It's a life. I cannot kill it. It is my child, my blood, your blood. How can you even think of ...? You want to murder your own grandchild even before it is born? How can you even think like that?' Shambhavi cried. She was upset, confused, shattered. It showed.
'I just want you to have a good life,' Mr Sen said.
'I will have a good life. I have you. I have my baby. What else do I need?' she said and cradled her belly protectively, reflexively.
'I will die any day. And a child is a lot more than just cuteness and soft skin. It's a lot of responsibility. I have seen you kill yourself working hard to keep me alive. I cannot consciously ask you to take up the responsibility of another life too.'
'I don't know, neither do I care to know, about any of that. I'm just ... not killing my baby.'
There was silence. She hoped her father would never say anything about killing her child again. She was not going to do it. She could not. She studied his weary, sick face. He looked exhausted; almost as if he had had enough of waking moments. He looked like he wanted to go to sleep. That scared her. One would think that after a year of getting to know about his brain tumour, Shambhavi would be prepared for his life to end any moment. But she was not. Nowhere even close.
Surprisingly, Mr Sen did not ask her to get rid of the child again. Instead, he smiled. And said, 'I'm proud of you.' The expression on his face reflected his words. She could not help but smile.
For the next few days, she ran around the city, made calls all over the place and pulled every string to find work. Being a freelancer had its own disadvantages. Left up to her, she would have picked painting as a career, but since interior designing was more lucrative and she was in desperate need of income, she did not have a choice.
She was successful in avoiding the topic of Arjun Datta from coming up in the exchange with her father. She knew he was curious to know about the man his daughter had fallen in love with, who had broken her heart and left her with a baby to take care of. But he did not ask. Maybe he figured that she was too sore to talk about him just yet. Maybe he realized she was trying to forget all about him.
Truth was-he was all she thought about every second. She was hoping he would get back to his senses and would come back to her. She was mad at him, yes. Furious. But contrary to what people thought of her, she was not as shallow as she came across. She was angry with him, but she knew he must have had a good reason for his actions. Nothing he could tell her, no reason would be enough to justify his behaviour, but she still could not help but wish that he would at least try.
Little by little, she lost all hope. He was not coming back. If he had to, he would have, a long time ago. Five days also means one hundred and twenty hours. It might not be a very long time, but it was time enough for a man to realize his mistake and that he could not live without his girl. It was a lot of time to miss a person. When you truly miss someone, a few minutes seem like an eternity. The desperation to meet, to talk...anything is too much to handle. It is sheer torture. If he had not realized it till then, there was almost no chance he would realize this ever.
That night, defeated, she went to Mili's place to dissolve into tears and tell her all about her problems. They were getting too much for her to handle alone. Even if Mili could not help in any other way than just listening, she would take that. She needed her best friend.
She had not told Mili about her father's sickness before because Mili tended to worry too much anyway, she had not wanted to load her with even more things to worry about. When she did tell her about it, and everything else that had happened, Mili cried with her. That was her way of lending support.
'Why did you not tell me before? All this time...? I was right here, and you hid something of this magnitude from me?' Mili cried.
'You could not have done anything about it, Mili. The best doctors are working on it, and even they cannot help his case ...' Shambhavi sobbed.
'But I would have been there with you. That is what friends are for. To support each other, to help.'
'But you were there with me, always. You were my sunshine. I did not want to sadden you with my problems. And with you not knowing, I could pretend that everything was normal. It was a welcome change.'
'But, Shambhavi ... I can't believe you had to go through all of this alone. Well, at least you told me now ... I know I should be stronger than this, I know I should be telling you that it will all be okay, but ... how? What are we going to do now?' Mili's tears were flowing continuously.
'I don't know, Mili. If only I had enough savings to sail me through this ... I have an assignment to work on this week. But it doesn't pay much. It will cover Dad's hospital expenses for just about a week, at best ...'
'After that ...?'
Shambhavi shrugged her shoulders.
'I'll give you whatever I have in my account. It is not much, but it will help you for a little while, at least,' Mili said.
'Not just yet. I will come to you if I feel the need. For now, at this moment, we are covered.'
'Come on. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. You know I am just happy to help.'
'I do. I'll keep that in mind.'
'All right, whenever you need anything, I'm here, okay? Oh God. Why did you not tell me before? What about the ... child?'
'What about it?' Shambhavi asked, suddenly on the defensive.
'You are going to have it, right?'
'Of course I would. Why would you even think otherwise?'
'Relax, Shambhavi. I was just asking,' Mili said. 'So, how far is it along? I mean, when is the expected delivery date?'
'I haven't been to the doctor yet. But I guess somewhere around the 5th of October ... We had been ... together on the 5th of January, so I did my Math.'
'Wow. So you are nine weeks along? That's ... kind of exciting, you know? I mean, I know you are unmarried and pregnant, and your father is sic
k and your boyfriend just went away, and you do not have any means of taking care of your father and your baby ... I know all of that, but still ... a baby ... the thought is sort of exciting, isn't it?'
'I do not know about that. I am thinking of the way you put my life in a nutshell. It sounded really sad -sadder than I had thought it was-like a typical Indian television series. Sick dad, dumped, pregnant and no money-' Shambhavi said, before Mili cut her off.
'Oh, I did not mean it that way, Shambhavi. I'm so sorry. I did not realize it ... it just came out all wrong.' Mili rushed to apologize. Shambhavi shrugged her apology away.
'It's all right, Mili. You did not mean it, but you did not say anything wrong either. Now relax. It will all be okay.'
'It will?'
'Yes,' Shambhavi consoled her friend, who was still very much drowning herself in tears.
'I should be the one comforting you. But even now, when you are the one in problems, you are the one taking care of me. Tell me-what happened?
'Nothing happened. It was just meant to be like this. You were supposed to cry about anything and everything and I was supposed to ask you to relax and chill. God's plans.'
They hugged each other for a while, lost in their respective thoughts. Shambhavi felt relieved, having told Mili about everything. It felt a lot easier, once she realized she had people who cared about her, with her, to help her through the bad times. She was also glad that she would have someone to talk to about her dad's sickness and her constantly empty wallet; it had been killing her, handling it all alone for a year. The excuses of being busy with work and passing off her visits to the hospital as routine check-ups for her father were getting old. She did not need to lie to her best friend about anything anymore.
In the darkest of times, the only consolation is the light at the end of the tunnel. The worst will pass, yes, but till it does, we have no option but to endure.