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Koyal brought her hands up to cover her eyes and began to cry bitterly. There is power in acknowledging your weakness. Standing in the hospital corridor, crying, Koyal admitted to herself that no matter how far she ran from Atharv, she’d never be free of him.
‘I … I…’ Awkwardly Atharv stood in front of her, staring at her tear-soaked face.
‘I said I’ll never meet Mansha again, why the hell are you following me!’ hissed Koyal angrily.
Red angry eyes.
Lips that quivered.
A bunched-up fist.
Atharv took in every detail, not missing a single thing.
‘What now? What more do you want? Do you want to scream more? Shout more? Do you need an audience so that you can embarrass me more?’
Atharv stared at Koyal.
‘Speak up, Atharv! Or just please get out of my way so that I can leave,’ Koyal said, getting more agitated with each passing second. Even in that moment of extreme passion, some of her anger was directed at herself. Why, after all these years of training herself to rein in the emotions, was she such an emotional wreck in front of Atharv? Why couldn’t she change? Why couldn’t she be stronger? Why did all self-control desert her in front of the one man she needed to be very strong in front of?
‘I need to leave,’ she mumbled again, red-hot tears coursing down her cheeks.
‘Don’t go.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t go,’ he repeated, his eyes boring into Koyal’s.
Stunned at his words, Koyal felt her shoulders sag defencelessly.
‘I came to say sorry, Koyal. I wish I had not said those things to you. And I hope you will forgive me,’ he said, his words enveloped in regret. ‘Please continue to be a part of Mansha’s life. She misses you.’
Koyal stared open-mouthed at Atharv who now turned to go back into Mansha’s room.
A few steps away from the room, he paused, turned around to face her once more and said, ‘It’s hard to grow up without a mother, harder when the father is me.’ His eyes bored into her. ‘I’ll wait for you inside,’ he added and opened the door.
A few minutes later, when Koyal followed Atharv into the room, she found him sitting slumped on a chair, staring at Mansha and thinking, thinking hard, a sad, faraway look on his face. Something about how he was sitting, tired and lost in thought, touched Koyal’s heart. And that was when it hit Koyal.
You often hear people saying they are sorry, but it is when you are able to see the pain in their eyes and hear the ache in their voice that you recognize that in hurting you they have hurt themselves more.
26
Love is staying up the whole night with a sick child.
Atharv, bleary-eyed and sombre, did not say another word to Koyal, but a truce of sorts now existed between them.
When Koyal woke up the next morning, she was still curled up on the little sofa next to Mansha’s bed, but a man’s jacket, large enough to cover her, was neatly tucked around her.
She looked up at Atharv, startled. He said nothing and looked away.
‘So,’ said Atharv in a cheerful voice, and Koyal and Mansha, who had been playing a quiet game of Ludo, looked up together.
‘I hear,’ he said, coming closer to Mansha’s bed and holding her little hand, ‘that you want to talk about Mummy?’
Koyal stared at Atharv, not believing what she was hearing.
‘Yes!’ came the eager squeal.
‘What do you wish to know about your mother?’ Atharv asked, smiling kindly, looking more like the Atharv from back then.
