Though my brain was telling me to be selfish and not help him, my heart wouldn’t do it, so immediately after composing myself, I went to my uncle to speak about it. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince him, but I knew I had to do this for Siddarth’s happiness. He should not suffer for something that had happened even without his knowledge.
‘Uncle, he loves her,’ I said after explaining what had happened. ‘Most importantly, he will be happy with her. Please try to understand. Don’t ruin the life of two souls for one promise you had made to my mother. Even she wouldn’t be happy if her children were unhappy.’
‘Then what about you? Don’t you want him in your life?’ asked Gayathri, as she was the only one who knew that I loved Siddarth.
‘I will be happier to just see him smile, even if it is with someone else. I won’t think twice before giving him what he wants. If I tell him about my love or our marriage, he will surely leave her and come to me. Then I will just be his wife and nothing else. I don’t want to be that. I want to be in his heart and be the reason for that smile whenever he remembers me,’ I told her with a heavy heart.
They were against it in the beginning, but later, seeing my stubbornness, they agreed. As our marriage had not been registered, I felt there was no need for Siddarth to know about it.
I turned the pages of my diary where I had pasted many pictures of Siddarth. The last picture I remembered sticking was his marriage photo. But I was surprised to find the remaining pages of my diary filled by someone else. It was all written beautifully. It was all about Siddarth and his special moments, both professionally and personally. I was so happy to read all of it that I decided to speak to Sakshi about it. So I went looking for her. I found her sitting in the lawn playing with the dogs and watching Ria play with her friends. I sat down beside her.
‘Hey, Sakshi. In the morning Ria gave me my diary and told me that you had asked her to give it to me. I was surprised to find all this,’ I said, showing her the photographs that had not been pasted by me.
‘Why? You didn’t like them?’ Sakshi asked with a smile.
‘No, no . . . They are awesome! I . . . ’ I couldn’t continue, as realization dawned.
‘Relax, I was the one who continued to write in your diary.’
I looked at her with so many emotions roiling inside me, tears welling up in my eyes. She held my hand.
‘Ananya, I found it near your bed in your room after you left us eight years ago. Maybe because you left in a hurry, it got misplaced. I found it and read it. I know I shouldn’t have—it is your personal diary. But that was when I got this idea to continue writing in it and thought would gift it to you when you returned. So I am not regretting or apologizing for it,’ said Sakshi. I smiled at her, letting her know that I didn’t mind.
There, we sat in silence for a while. We were both lost in our own thoughts.
I recalled how I’d left for the US after their wedding to complete my master’s and then settled there. I never wanted to return as I was afraid that in some weak moment or the other, I would end up making Siddarth feel guilty for something he didn’t even know anything about. But a message from Sakshi had brought me back to India last week.
A few days back I got a message from her saying that my uncle’s condition was serious and that he wanted to see me. I came to know it was a prank to get me back to India. Though I was angry with them initially, I couldn’t stay angry for too long after seeing Siddarth’s cute little daughter, Ria.
I was shaken out of my thoughts by Siddarth’s voice, ‘Hey, come in. Let’s have lunch. I am feeling hungry. By the way, what is this you are holding in your hand?’ He took the notebook from me.
Before I could stop him, he was turning the pages. ‘Wow, it is more like my album. Who did this?’
I looked at Sakshi in panic. She calmly smiled and said, ‘We both did it—only for you, Siddarth.’
Siddarth exclaimed ‘Great! This is amazing! By the way, girls, where is my birthday gift?’
‘Your gift is standing right in front of you,’ Sakshi said, holding me by my shoulders.
With a smile, Siddarth took my hands in his. ‘You know what, Anu? When you were leaving for your master’s, I thought no one would tolerate this dumbhead for more than a year. I thought . . . wished . . . they would throw you out of the country and you would come back in a year or two. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you would take eight long years to make it back. How could you have stayed away from us for so long? You don’t know how much I’ve missed you all these years. Sakshi had to tell a lie to get you here, because you are always making excuses to not come to India.’ Hearing his trembling voice, I hugged him and let my tears flow. After composing myself I broke away, saying, ‘Now no more emotional talk.’
Taking my diary from him, I called out to his daughter, ‘Okay, now let’s get in. Ria, baby, come on! It’s lunchtime.’
We celebrated Siddarth’s birthday and, at night, I sat down in my favourite place beside the window and started writing my diary again.
07.09.2018
Today after a long time, I enjoyed a lot—that, too, with my favourite person on his birthday. I have met many of your teammates and had a fun time, Siddarth. I can’t forget this day anytime soon. Many, many happy returns of the day. You are getting old, my dumbo!
With a sigh I closed my diary and lay down on the bed, lost in my thoughts for the final time that day.
After I left India, I searched for my diary in my bag but couldn’t find it. I had never expected to see it again, but look at life’s irony—now I have again started writing in it and will continue to till I have strength in my hands. Thank god I hadn’t written anything about our marriage in the diary. Now I am more than happy to see Siddarth like this and don’t want anything else in my life.
You will always have a special place in my heart, Siddarth. It is eternal, and nothing will bring it down to the level of obsession or possessiveness. Maybe this is what is called ‘pure love’.
Love you, Siddarth, forever and ever . . .
This was my last thought before I drifted off to sleep.
13
Beyond Right and Wrong
Supreet Kaur
Somewhere beyond right and wrong, there is a garden. I will meet you there.
—Rumi
It was 11 p.m. on a chilly Delhi night. My hands and feet were cold, but one of my cheeks was warm, red, with blood rushing through it. I could hear my ears ringing as a tear rolled down my other cheek, as if trying to sympathize with what had just happened.
My dad was standing there, his hand still in the air, ashamed of having slapped his twenty-five-year-old daughter, hiding that shame in the form of anger.
‘Get out of my house right now!’ With this, he held me by the arm, opened the door and started dragging me out.
‘But Dad, listen . . .’ I said through a choked throat.
I looked at my mom with welled-up eyes for help.
‘You were the good one . . . We were so proud of you. What happened?’ She struggled to get the words out amid uncontrollable crying.
As I struggled to stay indoors, my dad let my arm go, suddenly regretting what he was doing with the daughter he loved so much. He did not utter a word this time, but went back into his room, slamming the door hard, leaving me and my misery behind. Mom, too, walked away.