The Promise

by Nikita Singh

  he next morning, Shambhavi woke up with a sharp ache in her head. She tried to open her eyes, but it hurt too much. So she rested for a few more minutes, clutching her head; it didn't help. When she tried to get up from the bed, she felt dizzy and almost fell to the floor. Taking support of the wall, she slowly sat down on the bed again. It could not be happening; the timing was not working for her. She could not be sick. She did not have time to be sick.

  She was supposed to check out dining room furniture for her client. It needed to be done by the time the day was over, because she had other plans for the next day-a new project. Once the dining room was decorated, her job would be over and she could start her next project. The rest of her client's home decor was done; the dining room took that much time because the owner wanted an exact replica of a dining set they had seen at a party at a friend's place. It was especially difficult for Shambhavi to guess, since the client did not have even a picture of the dining set they wanted. Shambhavi had to understand what they wanted, using just her imagination. She had figured that she could come up with a set good enough to wipe the image of that dining set from their heads, but her luck was playing hardball with her. There was nothing she liked. She wished Arjun was there with her. She could have designed something beautiful and he could have built itproblem solved.

  She shrugged his thoughts away once again and struggled to get up from the bed. She slowly walked to the washroom and took the support of the washbasin.

  'Maybe Mili was right,' Shambhavi thought, looking at herself at the washroom mirror. 'It really is time I saw a doctor.'

  Once she had some tetra-packed fruit juice and toast, she had enough energy to go out and continue her work. She did not have time to look across the city to find a better set of dining room furniture. Instead, she decided to just go to her client, ask them to show her the set they wanted and probably ask the owners where they had got it from. If she could not get it from the original manufacturers, she would just get it made somewhere. Maybe infringe some copyrights while she was at it, but at least the assignment would be over and done with, and her client would have what they wanted.

  She postponed her meeting-the-doctor plans to the next day. She would need to get an appointment, but she was too involved with her work to find out time for that just yet.

  She went to the hospital to check in on her father and after giving him the peaches he so loved, rushed out to her client's office to discuss how to go about the darned dining room furniture.

  'Hello?' Shambhavi picked her phone and said. It was late afternoon. She had met with her client, had gone to take a look at the dining table they wanted, asked the owners where they had got it and was in the furniture store when she got the call.

  'Hi, Shambhavi?' a man's voice said from the other end.

  'Yes. Who's this?'

  'Faisal Khan, Datta Enterprises. I just finished drawing up the documents for your work with DE for the hotel, now named - The Green Meadow. I would need to meet you to hand over the cheque for your services. When is a good time?'

  'Faisal, why are you acting so weird? So formal?' Shambhavi asked.

  'I would prefer getting it done by today. Can you tell me where I can meet you?' Faisal continued in his starched tone.

  'Let me guess-is your boss there?'

  'Yes.'

  'Makes sense. Anyway, can you meet me near Vijay Nagar in an hour? I'm at Mehidpurwala's right now. I have some business to finish. Will wrap it up in an hour and meet you?' Shambhavi suggested.

  'Sure. Let's meet at Nafees?'

  'Yeah, cool.'

  'I will see you then,' Faisal said and hung up.

  As soon as he hung up the call, Shambhavi felt sadness overwhelm her. Arjun wanted to end any connection they had, at the earliest. And he did not want to do it himself either. She felt miserable, but it slowly got converted into anger. Why was she sad? Why was she waiting for him to come back, when he clearly did not care? It was he who had ended it ... he who had ruined the good thing they had. He had accused her of horrible things, was awfully mean to her, and left her in this situation. If anything, she should be furious at him, instead of just feeling wretched and heartbroken.

  He did not deserve her time, or to be in her thoughts. He deserved to be pushed to the back of her head, and heart, and to be forgotten forever. Her head stayed on him, while she finished her work at the furniture store.

  She checked the time on her watch and walked out of the place, making her way to the restaurant.

  'Shambhavi! How are you,' Tutul called from nearby. She smiled and ran towards her as soon as Shambhavi got her attention.

  'Tutul?' Shambhavi was surprised to find Tutul accompanying Faisal.

  'Hey,' Faisal smiled, looking like his old self, now that his boss was not around.

  'Hi guys! How have you been, both of you? And Tutul- how come you are here?' Shambhavi asked.

  'I am sorry, Shambhavi. I know you probably don't want me to, but you know I quit my day job to work on The Green Meadow. When you left, I could not. I have nothing else to work on. I did not have-' Tutul rushed to explain.

  'Relax. It's all right. Of course I did not want you to quit just because things did not work out personally between Arjun and me. Why would I be mad at you?' Shambhavi laughed.

  'Oh, thank God. I didn't know how to have this conversation with you. Really, I'm so sorry,' Tutul repeated.

  'Easy. It's okay.'

  'Let's sit?' Faisal asked, motioning to the chairs at the restaurant.

  Once they took their seats and ordered some snacks, Faisal began to explain to her how they were going to go about the whole thing.

  'Since seventy per cent of the furnishing of The Green Meadow is completed, we were planning on paying you seventy per cent of the decided amount. But then Tutul insisted that your work was almost complete. We have not executed them yet, but you have completed your designs. So we do not need to hire another designer to complete the work you were doing for us. So that payment goes to you too. Here's the cheque, your services paid in full. You will need to sign here,' Faisal said and pushed a sealed envelope with the cheque towards her.

  She slid it in her handbag without opening it and took out a pen to sign the document Faisal had passed to her. 'Here?'

  'Yes, and here. These are just the invoices, and your signature means you have received the payment,' he explained.

  She signed both pieces of paper and capped her pen shut. She took a deep breath and faked a big smile before looking up. 'So, that's done,' she sighed.

  Tutul smiled back warmly at her. Faisal looked uncomfortable.

  'What's with you?' Shambhavi asked him.

  'Me? Uh, nothing. I'm just ... sorry,' he muttered, looking everywhere but her.

  'Don't be. It is all right. Things did not work out between me and him and we ended it. We found it difficult to work together after that and we ended that too. This is life, shit happens.'

  'Yes, still...'

  'Relax. You had nothing to do with it and you do not have to be sorry.'

  He nodded, but still looked uncomfortable. He took his leave even before his coffee was served, saying something had come up. The girls were not fooled, but they played along. They were happy to have some personal time anyway; he was just making it awkward. As soon as he left, Tutul turned to look at Shambhavi seriously.

  'How are you?' she asked.

  Suddenly, Shambhavi had to check tears threatening to flow out. She blinked rapidly and sniffed back tears. Every time she thought about Arjun, there was a twinge in her chest. There was a void he had left behind when he left, a hole that would never be sealed. Even thinking about him constricted her throat and made it difficult for her to breathe. The sting of missing him-and what they once had together-had become physical in its manifestation. She was suffocating.

  'Try to relax, Shambhavi. Don't you dare start crying now,' Tutul threatened. Unlike Mili, Tutul was not the kind of friend who would have cried with Shambhavi to share
her sorrow. Instead, she would curse the people who caused her pain and probably start knitting revenge strategies. Smashing car windshields and throwing acrylic paint on his furniture were going to be her top plans.

  'I'm not going to cry,' Shambhavi laughed. She was getting really good at faking happiness; a year of practice was showing good results.

  'Good. Now tell me everything-from the beginning to the end. It was embarrassing when I got to know about you quitting the assignment from Faisal. You are my friend. You were supposed to tell me.'

  'I know. I was going to. But in all the mess ... I was so ... it totally slipped my mind.'

  'It's okay. Tell me now. What did the bastard do? I have always thought there was something off about the man. But once I started to get to know him, I began to think that he was okay. Apparently not,' Tutul said angrily.

  'It is not totally his fault. I should have been careful ...' Shambhavi did not know why she automatically started defending Arjun. She hated herself for being so weak when it came to him.

  'Bullshit. Don't give me that. Grow a spine, and tell mewhat did he do?'

  'We fell in love. And then, we ... I don't know what I was thinking, I was just blind. I didn't care. It was ... it felt right. We slept together, once ... nine weeks ago, without ... protection ...'

  'Oh my God, no. Are you ...? Don't tell me you are... Tutul panicked.

  'I am,' Shambhavi said softly.

  'And he ...? He left you like this? In this condition? What kind of a man is he?'

  Shambhavi just shook her head. And then, when she narrated the story to Tutul, she realized what Arjun had really done to her. Saying it aloud sounded worse than what she had felt till then. That was the exact moment she stopped loving him, even the tiniest bit.

  'What was his excuse? Did he not want to settle down? Is there someone else? Gosh, did he ask you to abort?' Tutul questioned.

  'He told me that he knew it was my plan all along-to get knocked up and ask for marriage or cash. He accused me of being a gold-digger.'

  'That son of a bitch.'

  'And oh, the best part-he asked me who the father of the baby was,' Shambhavi laughed sarcastically. 'That was the funniest bit. Considering he was the man I lost my virginity to, and have never been with anyone, even him, since that one time. There is something really hilarious about a man accusing you of being a slut when he is the only man you have ever slept with, you know? Ask me.'

  'Oh, Shambhavi,' Tutul said, her anger for the man who hurt her friend etched clearly on her face.

  'It's okay, Tutul. I'm okay,' Shambhavi lied and once again, faked a smile.

  The next morning, Shambhavi found herself at Bombay Hospital, waiting for her appointment. She had woken up to Mili's incessant banging on her door. She informed her about the doctor's appointment she had made, because she knew Shambhavi was too careless when it came to taking care of herself.

  'I can't believe you can act so irresponsibly,' Mili muttered, sitting next to Shambhavi at the waiting area.

  'What? I was about to make an appointment myself,' Shambhavi defended herself.

  'Oh yeah? When exactly was that going to happen?'

  'Today I have to go to Anand Bazaar for a new assignment. So tomorrow. Or maybe day after ...'

  'See? This is exactly the kind of behaviour I am talking about. How can you be so negligent?' Mili scolded her friend. 'You know this is no longer just about you, don't you? You have a baby to take care of ...'

  'I know,' Shambhavi nodded. How could she not know that? The baby was what had kept her up night after night, wound up with worry. She had tried not to think about it, but had failed. It was a life, growing inside her. Something that had ruined her relationship with the man she loved. She had mixed feelings about the baby. She did not hate it, but she could not make herself love it either. She just did not want to think about it. To shut it out and pretend it was not there.

  But it would still be there. No matter what.

  Soon after, they were called in. The gynaecologist, Dr Mishra, was a woman in her fifties, and one of the most reputed doctors in the city. She smiled warmly at Shambhavi and Mili, and invited them to sit. On getting to know the details of Shambhavi's pregnancy -especially the part about her patient being an unmarried pregnant girl who wanted to keep her baby, despite the father of the baby abandoning them bothshe didn't blink an eye. She was an expert, with years of experience, and it showed.

  She just kept asking questions, nodding and noting down something in her notepad, before sending Shambhavi for standard tests. The report would not be out before the next day, but once her check-up was done, the doctor went through Shambhavi's basic health status.

  'Twenty-three years old ...she murmured to herself.

  'Actually, almost twenty-four, Doctor. My birthday's in two months' time,' Shambhavi said nervously. There was something about getting examined-all your personal details open for another person to see. She was embarrassed.

  'Okay, twenty-four then. Five-feet-five, and you weigh just fifty kilograms? That's not healthy,' Dr Mishra mused.

  'Are you kidding? I'm perfect,' Shambhavi said, before realising what she did. She muttered, 'I mean, I don't want to gain weight and get fat. I thought fifty was perfect-not overweight or underweight, you know? Just optimum.'

  'Of course, for a girl. But now you need to take care of your diet, for the baby. There will be all kinds of hormonal changes in your body, you'll gain weight too. Which is obvious, since you have a baby growing inside of you. You have to be prepared for all these things.'

  'Yes, Doctor,' Shambhavi nodded. She had seen this in the movies, but up till now, she had not started to understand the complete impact of it. She was like a pregnant teenager, and the doctor seemed to have realized that her patient was lost too.

  Dr Mishra had a confused expression. 'Is there an adult I can talk to? Your parents?' she asked gently. She turned to Mili. 'Who are you to her ...?'

  'Mili Khandelwal. I'm her friend, Doctor. But you can treat me like her mother. I will be taking care of her through this,' Mili said, smiling.

  'Great. So, Mili, I'll give you a list of some books you should read and a diet chart that the mother-to-be should follow,' Dr Mishra said cheerfully.

  'Sure. I'll take care she does both. Anything else we need to know?'

  'Just be careful. The pregnancy is in its tenth week. We will get to know more once the reports come out. Till then, just take care of her. And also, there is a list of drugs the mother should not take. Are you on any kind of medication, Shambhavi?'

  'No, Doctor. I'm not,' Shambhavi replied.

  'Good. Ask for the list at the reception anyway, just in case. But I would recommend you do not self-prescribe at all. Understood?'

  The girls nodded.

  'One last thing, Doctor,' Mili said.

  'Yes?'

  'When can we see the sonogram?'

  'Right now, if you wish,' Dr Mishra smiled.

  'Wow,' Mili said, her smile spreading as she turned to Shambhavi. 'Let's see the baby!'

  'Actually, Mili, let's do it tomorrow? We'll come to pick up the report anyway. So ...' Shambhavi said, not meeting her friend's eyes. 'I have to go somewhere now ...'

  Mili nodded, even though her face clearly displayed her disappointment.

  They left the doctor's office and walked out of the hospital, not exchanging a word. Shambhavi was grateful to Mili, who had asked no questions. If she had asked anything, Shambhavi would not have had any answers. Everything was royally messed up in her head. She did not know what to make of what. She needed time to figure things out. Slowly, one by one. All of it together became too overwhelming.

  Better put on a happy face than a gloomy one, if we have to go through it anyway. Attitude is what defines our journey through the bumpiest of roads.

  our months had passed since she had first gone to the doctor's office. Since then, she had visited Dr Mishra every other week. A lot of things had changed. It was in the twelfth week of
her pregnancy that she had first seen the sonogram of her baby inside her. She had fallen in love with it instantaneously. Till then, she had always thought of the baby as something that would happen to her nine months later, but when she saw it in her body, she realized that it was there, then, at that moment. She was already a mother.

  She had worked very hard to earn and save for her baby. Four months had gone by, drowned in hard work, and she had maintained a perfect balance of taking care of her father, her unborn child and the funds they both needed. Mili had been there by her side throughout the time, mostly concentrating on feeding Shambhavi so that the baby remained healthy. It was a tough job; she never seemed to have enough time for food.

  She had worked very hard, and it had taken its toll on her health. She had grown weaker. She felt guilty about not eating and resting enough, which was causing harm to the baby, but she planned to make it all up with the rest she was going to get in the last two months of her pregnancy. She was in the seventh month of her pregnancy and had saved enough to last her through her delivery. But she needed to earn more for taking care of the baby and her father when she wouldn't be able to get up and work, right after the baby was born.

  For that, she had a plan-with the help of Mili and Tutul, she had set up an exhibition of her paintings. The date was set-10th August 2011-which was two days from then. It was also her father's fifty-fifth birthday and she could not find a better date for the occasion. Considering the wretched condition she was in, things were comparatively better by then and the future was looking up.

  Her father's condition was in no way better, but due to continuous shots of radiation therapy, he was stable. Shambhavi had been shocked when he refused to go to Paris with her, saying he knew she needed all the income she could get, for the baby. He said she was spending all her money on his treatment and medical expenses anyway, so he could not accept anything else from her. It was the least he could do for his grandchild.