What Do You See When You Look in the Mirror?

by Nikita Singh

  She thought back to the series of events that led them to this place. The previous night, Parul had helped both her daughters prepare for their class test, and still, miraculously, gone to bed on time and woken up fully rested. This morning, a sort of domino effect had played out in the Mehra household. When she woke up, her husband was still asleep, which was unusual for him, since his office hours started two hours before hers. She tried to wake him up, only being successful in extracting a moan from him as he begged for five more minutes of sleep.

  She went down to the kitchen, packed lunch boxes for her daughters, wished them both good luck for their tests and sent them off to catch the school bus. Six minutes later, the doorbell rang furiously. Parul picked up her clothes from where they lay on the bathroom floor and hurriedly put them back on.

  ‘Mayank, come on, wake up,’ she hollered, as she slid out of the bathroom to rush towards the sound of their daughters, who were outside the front door, screaming frantically for their father. On her way out, Parul put on sneakers and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was big and wild. She wrapped a scarf around her head to bring some order to her hair and also cover her sleep T-shirt.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Parul said, swinging the front door open, stepping out and locking it behind her. She rubbed away the crusts collected at the corners of her eyes and put on sunglasses. She placed both her hands on her daughters’ backs and led them out to the car. ‘I’ll drive you to your school. Let’s go.’

  ‘Where’s Papa?’ Maya, the eight-year-old, questioned.

  ‘Still asleep. How did you miss the bus?’

  Her daughters screamed over each other in response. One blamed the other for stopping to pick a flower for her teacher, and the other blamed the first for not running fast enough when she saw that the bus was leaving.

  ‘I’m smaller than you! My legs are smaller than yours!’ Jiya, the six-year-old, moaned.

  ‘Why didn’t you think about that before stopping to get that stupid flower?’

  ‘My flower is not stupid. It’s for Miss Kavita!’

  ‘Ooh, your favourite Miss Kavita! Why are you so obsessed with her? Everybody calls you a teacher’s pet …’

  Parul let them argue. It was good for them. They didn’t need to get along with each other, not yet, but they needed to talk to each other, and if the only way her daughters could communicate with each other was through foolish arguments, so be it. Mayank was an only child, so he didn’t understand (he had asked on many occasions, horrified, ‘Is this normal?’ and Parul assured him each time that it was as normal as two sisters that age could get), but Parul knew that it took a significant amount of time for sisters to become friends.

  ‘Okay, here we are. Feel ready for your tests?’

  ‘Yes, Mumma,’ Jiya said in her sweet voice.

  ‘Yes, Mumma,’ Maya imitated sarcastically.

  ‘Don’t copy me!’

  ‘Don’t copy me!’

  ‘Please, stop!’

  ‘Please, stop!’

  Maya’s tone was getting whinier with every word. By the time her daughters got out of the car, Parul had stopped listening, intentionally ignoring bad behaviour. Her attention would only further encourage said behaviour to occur again. Patting herself on the back for her smart parenting decisions, she drove back home.

  At home, she peeked into the kitchen and the bathroom before going into the bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, leaving the room dark.

  ‘Mayank?’ she breathed softly. He was still in bed. His thick black hair was matted, sticking to his face as he lay on his stomach with his face to the side. Parul pushed his hair out of the way. Before she reached for his forehead, she already knew he was sick. He was such a bright morning person that it would take something significant to keep him in bed.

  ‘How do you feel?’ she whispered, lowering herself on the floor next to him.

  ‘Crappy,’ Mayank groaned.

  ‘Where does it hurt?’

  ‘Everywhere …’

  ‘Can you be a little more specific so that I can try to help you?’

  ‘Head and stomach, and throat. And nose and eyes.’

  Parul ran her fingers through his damp hair, gently massaging his scalp. She was smiling; her husband was a very self-sufficient, able person. He barely ever needed anyone’s help with anything. So, on rare occasions, when he behaved like a child, it was endearing to her.

  Parul worked from home, as a freelance book editor, so it would be easy enough for her to make sure that Mayank was cared for. But she might need to move her meetings and reschedule her appointment with a new author. While she mentally recalibrated her calendar, her phone rang. She got up to walk to the sound of the phone, which was coming from her handbag in the living room. It was an unknown number, calling on her business phone number. She picked it up, expecting an editorial query.

  ‘Hi, this is Parul Mehra.’

  ‘Hi, Parul, I’m calling from The Lowdown. We’re a multi-media entertainment company. You can find us on YouTube and pretty much everywhere on social media. I have a question for you.’

  ‘Yes?’ Parul said warily.

  ‘A proposition, really. Would you be interested in giving us the dirt on the real Akanksha Seth? As you must know, she’s under fire, after the recent exposé last week. We’re looking for more information about who she really is, from a reliable source such as you, her very own sister.’

  Parul was stunned into silence.

  ‘Of course, we will pay you and make sure our source remains anonymous. As long as you can give us some shady drama, we can make you rich.’

  Parul’s jaw hardened with disgust. At this disgrace of a reporter, at her past life that she had worked so hard to forget. Through clenched teeth, she declared, ‘Akanksha Seth is not my sister.’

  She peeled the phone from her ear with trembling fingers, and before she touched the red circle to end the call, she heard a faint ‘think about it’ from the other end.

  There’s nothing to think about. She collected herself. She was already behind schedule for a meeting, had a sick husband to look after, and an entire day’s work waiting for her.

  As the day went on, it turned out that there was a lot to think about. In fact, no matter how hard she tried, Parul couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  She caught up on the ‘drama’ around Akki circulating on the internet. She felt even more disgusted with the guy from The Lowdown after reading the articles. From what Parul could find, this was a very serious matter. The fact that he had referred to it as ‘drama’ and used words like ‘dirt’, ‘exposé’ and ‘shady’ had made it sound juvenile.

  Parul forced herself to put it out of her mind. She focused on work instead. It was only after she had finished everything that absolutely needed to be done that day and staggered the rest of her work to other days of the week, that she shut her laptop screen and pushed her chair back.

  Leaning against the bedroom door, she said, ‘Remember Akki? I told you about her?’

  ‘Hmm?’ her husband mumbled in his sleep. She had given him a tablet for his headache a few hours ago.

  ‘Are you asleep? I need to talk to you about something. It’s serious,’ she said gently, climbing on to the bed next to him.

  ‘We should just go for it. Just do it. Get married,’ Mayank blurted out, suddenly springing to attention.

  His delirious, sleepy nonsense triggered an involuntary sob from Parul. ‘We got married already, love. We’ve been married for ten years,’ she said through happy tears. She had a perfect life. Not perfect for everyone, but perfect for her … It was all she needed. A family of people who truly loved each other. Her job essentially involved her reading books and working with brilliant authors to make their work even better, and, sometimes, her daughters got along with each other as well.

  Mayank was fully alert now. Still lying down, he asked, ‘What time is it?’

  ‘It’s almost five. The kids are outside, playing. I
finished work and came to check on you. How are you feeling?’ She touched his forehead with the back of her hand. ‘Still warm.’

  ‘A little better,’ Mayank said. ‘Did I just propose to you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it a proposal, per se. You did suggest we get married though.’

  They laughed. In the pause that followed, Parul’s mind wandered back to the phone call from earlier. ‘Something weird happened …’ she began, unsure about how deep she wanted to go into it. ‘I got a phone call from a trashy YouTube channel looking for dirt on Akki.’

  ‘Your soul sister?’ Mayank asked. His tone was light, but his body had become still, and his eyes were searching hers. He knew this was serious.

  ‘It’s so bizarre,’ Parul said. ‘A decade after everything ended, randomly, I get this call … And it’s so disgusting too. Something terrible happened to her, and they just want ammo to throw at her …’

  ‘I actually read about it,’ Mayank said softly, surprising her. ‘A few days ago. A news article popped up for me. I didn’t say anything to you, because I thought that’s what you would want.’

  Parul nodded. She had taken that strategy with everything related to Akki, since their fallout. But this … this she couldn’t ignore. If she had ever been her friend, she needed to do something, say something. ‘I’m going to talk to her.’

  ‘I think that’s for the best,’ Mayank said, surprising her again. Historically, Mayank had stayed firmly out of anything that had to do with Parul’s relationship with Akanksha.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, I didn’t want to say anything, but if you ask me, I think you should talk to her.’

  Parul nodded. Her heart raced at the thought of reaching out to Akki. Ten years had passed since they had last communicated. So much had happened in that time. Their lives had taken such different directions. She wasn’t even the same person anymore, and neither was Akki, judging by her social media presence.

  She sat still next to Mayank for a long time, only her chest rising and falling. He didn’t say anything else. Yet, she could sense his quiet support, and appreciation for the fact that she would need some time to gather herself, her thoughts and her memories, before taking any kind of action.

  The kids came home from school soon after, giving Parul a valid distraction. She got busy with their evening routine – homework, TV, shower, bedtime story – and by the time she came back to the bedroom with Mayank’s dinner, she was itching to talk to Akanksha. It was strange how something she had dreaded so much the first time she thought about it had morphed into something she longed to do, all in the course of a day.

  Mayank nibbled on his khichdi, clearly struggling to keep it down. He hadn’t been able to eat much all day. ‘You’re such a baby,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘I know you crushed gobhi and sneaked it in here. I can taste the cauliflower!’ Mayank pretend-gagged.

  ‘No, I didn’t! I know you hate gobhi, so why would I force-feed it to you?’ Parul lied through her teeth.

  ‘Okay, I believe you,’ Mayank said. His narrowed eyes, clearly indicating that he didn’t believe her one bit.

  ‘Thank you.’

  That light-hearted moment between them loosened the knot inside Parul just enough for her to open her mailbox and type a quick email. Last she heard, Akki was living in Dubai; the chances of her still using her old phone number were slim.

  ‘I did it. I emailed her. Just a short message asking how she’s doing—’ Parul was cut off by her phone ringing. Unlike Akki, Parul was still using the same phone number. Without even looking down at her screen which flashed an unknown number, Parul knew it was Akki.

  ‘Take it,’ Mayank said, encouragingly.

  Parul gulped, but her throat was dry. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t do this. Panic rose inside her chest and she succumbed to it. She let the phone ring, till it stopped ringing. She was breathing hard. She didn’t want to go back to that time and relive the heartache. It had taken her years to overcome it. A decade, a full decade.

  Mayank pulled her into a hug. ‘It’s okay. There’s no rush.’ His handsome face looked at her with concern. A five o’ clock shadow had appeared, just from one day of skipping shaving, making him even more handsome than usual. He smelled of sweat and deodorant. Parul frowned at her ill-timed arousal. In the next moment, she suddenly felt ready.

  ‘I’m calling her back,’ she announced, rising from the bed. Before Mayank had the chance to react, she had already left the room. She had momentum now, thanks to the roller coaster of emotions she was feeling, so she kept going. She called back the number and held her phone to her ear. The call rang one and a half times before it was picked up.

  ‘Parul!’ a voice Parul didn’t recognize, said.

  ‘Hello?’ Parul spoke tentatively. It probably wasn’t even her. All of this anxiety had been for nothing.

  ‘Parul, it’s me. I got your email. How are you?’

  It was her. Her voice sounded different. Deeper, as if she had a cold. Or she now spoke from the back of her throat. ‘Akki, thanks for calling me,’ Parul said stiffly. She immediately questioned her tone and her choice of words.

  ‘Thank you for reaching out! I was so glad to get your email.’ Akki’s tone sounded so earnest, it knocked the breath out of Parul. She sounded so genuine. So happy, and so sad.

  The walls around Parul came down. ‘I … I had to. I got this call from … some losers. Are you okay …?’ Parul’s face distorted with the last few words. Tears flowed out of her eyes and freely down her cheeks. That question. That small, seemingly insignificant everyday-sounding question felt so good to finally say out loud. Parul had wanted to ask her friend that for so long, so many times through the years.

  Parul heard an unmistakable sob at the other end. Her hand went to her mouth and she sniffed. They cried on the phone, without saying anything. The tears didn’t seem to stop. So much emotion had been lying stagnant within her for so long. And this news … it put everything in perspective. So much of what happened all those years ago became clear. While, at the same time, recent events also raised a myriad questions.

  A few minutes later, Parul gathered herself enough to ask the most pressing one, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I couldn’t! He didn’t let me. You have no idea, Parul. I was his prisoner. He used to whisper threats to me, late at night, when I pretended to be asleep. He used to tell me what he would do to me if I told anyone. You don’t know how dangerous he is—’

  ‘I could’ve helped you! If only you had—’

  ‘You couldn’t have! You don’t know! He said he would hurt you, and I knew his threats weren’t empty. He used to hurt me where no one could see. He was so strategic, so calculated. He thought out everything beforehand … He literally had me in his web. I didn’t have a chance—’

  ‘You should’ve said something—’

  ‘Pari, you don’t understand. You had to be there to understand what I went—’

  ‘I was there. I was there with you, till you pushed me out of your life!’

  ‘I had to—’

  ‘Why? There had to have been another way! A better way!’ Parul’s voice was hoarse with hysteria.

  Akki’s voice was louder, drowning out everything Parul said. ‘There wasn’t, not without putting you in danger. If you pay attention to what’s happening now, it’s so clear that he’s winning, and he would’ve won back then! No one believes me! They don’t believe me now and they wouldn’t have believed me then!’

  Parul took that in. Akki was right. She paused to think, her mind racing in all directions. What could she do? She so desperately wanted to help her friend. Her thoughts ran wild. She couldn’t find the head or tail of anything. Completely overwhelmed, she sat down on the couch, and reflected on everything she thought had happened ten years ago, in light of what Akki was telling her now.

  Parul and Akki had grown up together. They’d met in second grade and remained close throughou
t school. They considered each other their soul sister. It wasn’t a coincidence that they had ended up in the same college. Their relationship was special, their banter with each other fascinating, even to others. They’d heard people say that enough number of times to fully believe it and start a bi-weekly podcast together.

  They grew at a pace that shocked them. In their first year, they already had sponsorships. In their second year, they had national brand deals. In the third year, they had to hire a team to help them, and, by the fourth year, they were flying in guests on a weekly basis. They talked about topics they were passionate about, things everyone in their generation was dealing with, conversations that were considered taboo topics, or bold – and they did it in an approachable way. They talked about self-love, mental health, body-shaming, cat-calling, patriarchy, gender, sexual orientation, the climate crisis, overconsumption, capitalism, sexual health and modern relationships – and they did it in a raw, honest way. People across the country tuned in, pulled in by the hosts’ candour and sensitivity.

  In their fifth year, which ended up becoming their last, things took a turn. Akki began dating someone. Dev seemed nice to Parul, a little snobbish maybe. In a strange way, his presence in their lives highlighted the differences between Parul and Akki. Akki was clearly the more glamourous one; she was gorgeous, tall with stylish, short hair, piercing dark eyes and a quirky fashion sense. When Akki entered a room, heads turned and strangers paid attention. Parul, on the other hand, was beautiful in an understated kind of way, not nearly as outgoing as Akki. She was funny and thoughtful, easily obsessed with new discoveries. They were both deeply passionate, but exhibited it in very different ways, one more approachable than the other.

  Dev began questioning things Parul and Akki had never had reason to question. What was Parul’s plan after graduation? Why wasn’t Parul as ambitious as Akki? Why didn’t Parul hire a stylist? Was Parul holding Akki back? Over the course of a year, these small, seemingly unrelated questions settled somewhere deep under Parul’s skin. It was clear to her that she was getting in the way of the stardom Akki was surely headed towards. When they wrapped up the fifth season of their podcast, they didn’t talk about ending it. They also didn’t talk about returning for another season.