Ansh stared at the wedding festivities unfolding in the hall across the road. He took a slow and deep drag from the glowing cigarette that he held in his right hand and then a swig from the beer can in the left. The heavily decorated entrance glorified the couple’s name in saffron coloured marigolds. Swati weds Vikas.
Ansh fixed his stare on the place where it should have been his name instead of Vikas’. It had almost been 6 months to the day that he had been lying battered and bleeding in front of Swati’s house. Her brothers, towering over him in rage and she crying out from behind “Please don’t beat him. Please bhaiya. Let him go. Please … I beg of you.”
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Theirs was not exactly a fairytale romance. They had got to know each other in office. Over cups of coffee and messenger chats, they graduated from being friends to something more than that.
Love is blind, they say. Blind enough not to see the invisible lines drawn by the upholders of creedal integrity. The confidence of fresh love and the puerile intensity of youth had made Swati and Ansh forget about their diverse backgrounds.
The ugly head of orthodoxy had reared its head when Swati’s relative saw them come out of a movie hall together.
Who is he? What does he do? Since when has this been going on? Is this why we have let you work?
A barrage of questions had faced Swati back home. It was futile explaining her love for Ansh to her father and 3 elder brothers. She searched for support in the eyes of her mother and sisters-in-law but saw none.
Until late in the night, she was brainwashed. Next morning, bleary eyed due to crying and lack of sleep, she came to know that she was grounded. Her mobile was not to be seen and the phone extension in her room was removed. Friends who called home were told that she was unwell and not likely to come to office for the next few days.
A week went by until she heard a familiar voice at the doorstep. Ansh. Oh how she longed to see him!!! Her brother, who answered the door, flew into a rage as soon as he came to know who Ansh was. He was asked to go back as there was nothing to be spoken. Ansh persisted but it was in vain. He was told to forget about Swati and never to show his face again.
Two weeks went by before Swati was allowed to step out of the house. And that too with her sister-in-law as a chaperone. She looked around as the familiar sights close to her house went by in the window of her car. She searched for Ansh as she hoped he would be around somewhere. Back from their errand, she looked outside the gate as she stepped out of the car. And there she saw him. Looking like he had lost of few years of his youth in a few days. Worried and helpless. He started towards her and how she wished she could just run that small distance that separated them and get to him. If they could just run away from here, far away … somewhere far away.
She watched in horror as a car screeched to a halt in front of Ansh. Her brothers, back from work, stepped out and started jostling him.
“You were told not to be seen around the house. Don’t you understand?” Shouts and abuses were hurled and soon the blows followed. Ansh retaliated in anger but was outnumbered. Swati kept on crying and pleading but the battery only subsided once Ansh was lying on the ground with broken ribs.
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Weeks turned into months. Ansh had physically recovered from the incident but he was broken deep within. Back from the hospital, he came to know about Swati’s engagement. The police had refused to intervene, backing down under the pressure that an influential family like Swati’s had exerted via their seniors.
His mobile rang one day and it was Swati on the other end.
“I am sorry Ansh. I don’t have much time. Someone could come any second”, she was speaking in hushed tones, sounding very scared.
“Where are you, Swati? Can you not meet me? I want to see you.”
“No Ansh. I cannot do that. Please forget about me, Ansh. Please do try and forget me”, she was crying profusely now.
“Why … Why should I forget you? Let’s run away. I can come and get you. We shall get married”
“I cannot go against my family, Ansh. They have fixed my marriage. I cannot run away …” and suddenly the phone went blank
“Swati .. swati …”, Ansh kept screaming into the dead line.
Ansh tried contacting Swati after that but all his efforts were futile.
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He now sat in his car across the road from the venue of the wedding. In the past few months, the two things in both his hands had become his best friends. They provided him solace from the pain by drawing him in their blissful cocoon.
He had lost his job and had moved out of his parents’ house. His parents had tried their best to convince him to let go and move on with life. But he had already gone beyond the pleas of family and friends.
A new set of friends, who thrived on the same habits as his, entered his life. He moved in with them and together, they shared the drug and alcohol induced world of ecstasy.
“Let’s go, dude”, remarked a guy from the backseat.
Ansh took one last look, started the car and drove away from there.
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“Chhod naa yaar. What if one girl is gone? There will be so many others.”
“You won’t understand what she meant to me, man”
Ansh was already slurring after a few drinks. He had just snorted a few lines and was feeling on top of the world. The dance numbers were blaring through the bar and many girls were gyrating to their tunes on the floor in front of him.
Not interested in carrying on a conversation about Swati, Ansh tried to focus on the girl clad in blue who was giving him the looks. After some time, he motioned for her to come and sit next to him. She brought over some bottles of drink with her and sat down.
Ansh, in his light headed stupor, noticed that she was average looking. Probably in her late twenties. She had on a lot of make-up, which was common in her profession.
“What’s your name?”
“Whatever you want it to be. How about Chameli? Picture dekhi hai?” she laughed.
She continued flirting with him and Ansh kept drowning glass after glass of alcohol.
She casually moved her hand up his thigh and asked “Do you want more?”
“Huh … more … what more?”, Ansh was already beyond comprehending what she was saying.
“If you want, we could go someplace less crowded”, she hinted
“Okay” he just nodded.
“Thousand rupees. Nikaalo.”
In his drunken state, nothing was registering in Ansh’s mind. He just reached for his wallet and handed out a few notes to her. She took his hand and led him towards a passageway leading to some rooms inside. He stumbled inside the room which was shrouded in semi-darkness and dropped down on what seemed like a bed.
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Ansh was suddenly jarred awake with the shrill cry of a baby. He wondered where he was. He felt himself and noticed that he was still fully clothed. A few buttons of his shirt seemed undone.
The girl rushed from his side to a corner of the room. She bent down and picked up the crying infant, trying to shush him. The baby continued to cry. Finally, she undid her blouse and put him to her chest. The room became silent all of a sudden as the baby suckled silently.
“Kya saab, time ka khoti karte ho? Have you come to fall asleep here?”
“Did I fall asleep?”, Ansh asked
“Aur nahi toh kya? You won’t get the money back I tell you. Do you think I come here to waste my time with people like you?”
“Is that your son?”, he asked trying hard to clear his head and register how he had gotten there.
“What if he is? Listen, I don’t want your pity. Let me finish feeding him and then you can get back to what you came here to do.”, she retorted sharply.
“Why are you doing this?”
“What is it to you? His father left me and went away with someone else. What was I to do? Sit and cry on my fate. You have to move on, saab. At least this way, I can earn some money to feed myself and him. Huh”
The realisation hit Ansh like a thunderbolt.
What was he doing here? Why was he in this situation? His high came down in a flash. He looked around himself at the dreary surroundings. Is this what he had led himself to fall into? Is this what he wanted his life to become?
He fished into his wallet and brought out all the remaining notes. Dropping them on the bed, he rushed out.
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As he drove back home, he remembered a line he had read long ago.
In life, sometimes the best thing to do is accept.
He had to come to terms with the reality of life and accept the fact that Swati had left him for good. He had to move on.
His mom broke into tears as she opened the door for him. As she hugged him, he simply said “I am back, Ma.”
He broke down and cried for a long time in his mother’s lap. Tomorrow would be a new beginning for him.
(This story had been in my mind for a long time. But I was unable to pen it down due to lack of clarity in a lot of areas. Thanks to Praveen Sahu's Amputated Love , which helped me complete this one)
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