~Ziana~
CASTLE WALLS
She was always a bit of a loner, it was probably because she had to be one- or at least it was like that in the beginning. Her father was never there and her mother never really cared about anything minus her coats perhaps, and her shoes, not to mention the make-up.
But then her step father came along and she really liked James, he was sweet to her and would always ask her things and talk to her like she mattered, that was done by no one other than her nanny. She had been happy when James had moved in, he would always make breakfast for her, and they both, him with a cup of espresso and her with her orange juice, would sit together for an hour having eggs and sausages. They would talk, he would ask her things, about school, and whether she has finished her assignments and how was her test etc. They would talk about books she was reading and he was the one who introduced her to the wonderful and delightful world of old movies. When her mother was busy, they would always catch the wizard of Oz- the black and white version, which they both agreed on was more beautiful than any other coloured version could be. For her birthday he had given her a load of books he thought she would love- and she had indeed loved them all. After years of having an absentee mother and father, and just one nanny as her relations, she had finally found someone she loved; he became a father to her, like her own father had never even bothered to be.
James and her mother had married a year later, and within a few months she had a sister along the way. She remembered her mother complaining about the soreness and the morning sickness and ' well basically about everything. But James had always smiled and taken all of her mother's complaints with a smile and good humour.
When her sister had come along, she had been tremendously happy at first. But then she saw a different side to her mother and she slowly but most definitely started to feel envious of her little sister. Her mother was so delicate with her, always talking sweetly to her, not complaining about changing diapers and getting up at three in the morning to feed her, telling her stories with voice affects. She envied the fact that her mother seemed to genuinely love her sister- something she had never bothered to show her.
James saw that, and even though you would expect him to resent her for resenting his daughter, he became more lovable to her. He took more care, and paid more attention, and she loved him more for that. Years past and all major events of her life that came and went distinctly had James in it, always there as her father, holding her through tough times and patting her back with a proud expression when in good moments. While her mother did all that for her sister, well to be honest she did that as much as she could. It wasn't that James didn't bother with Emma- he did he was a great father to both of them, but he seemed to pay more attention to her, never once missing a meeting at school, or a event she was performing on- she knew he was trying to compensate for his mother, and that made her respect him more. She knew he wasn't doing it because he pitied her, no he did that because he loved her like a daughter and didn't want her to feel left out, or unloved.
She was thirteen when her mother and James had separated. She had cried herself to sleep that night when James had left. And she feared that even though he said that he will always be there for her, and that he will always be a call away, they both will drift apart, and she will lose the one person she felt knew her, understood and loved her. Emma- her sister had stayed with them, James was old school in many ways and he felt it was better for Emma to stay with her mother.
She had started hating her mother with more fierceness since that day. And that hatred increased exponentially when she got to know that her mother had been cheating on James with her own father. That they had met at a common friends party in New York, and had rekindled their romance. She was furious at both of them, in her eyes James was her father, even though their DNA was not the same- and the last thing he deserved was being cheated on.
When her father had moved back in with them, she had been obvious about her not being happy about his presence. Every time he tried to come close (usually by buying gifts) she had thwarted his advances. Emma too wasn't happy about the development, though she didn't know about the affair behind her father's back. They both had never been close, but one night Emma had knocked on her bedroom door, and asked if she could sleep with her. She had been scared- a nightmare- and she didn't want to go to their mother, because her father was there. She had smiled and let Emma sleep with her. Emma had hugged her and slept that night, reminding her of this one time James had done the same when she had been terribly ill.
Emma and she came close, and she felt a responsibility towards her, she wanted Emma to have a companion like she had had one in James, and so she had taken over the responsibility of her sister. Emma could tell her anything she felt, talk about how she missed James. Her mother still showered Emma with more attention and love, but somehow that didn't make her envious anymore. She became Emma's James, her confidant and the person she could come and talk to about everything, and the person who kept her feet firmly on the ground, even though her mother tried everything to spoil her. Zia never let Emma go off the track, always calling her out on her mistakes and always making her see the right path.
James had not broken his promise, and would always come to meet them, he still always came to her functions and her school meetings. She still called him, at anytime of the day, to ask for his help, whether it was a math problem or an emotional one, he was always there- just as he had promised.
She was seventeen when she had fallen in love. And unlike other girls, who would rush to their mother's, she had called James. She still remembered his words- "wow, my kiddo has indeed grown up," he had said, after which he had told her to introduce him to the guy, "it is a father's responsibility to frighten the lad," he had said, she had laughed and told him to come over Saturday night when David would pick her up at six- they were going out for a movie.
She had casually mentioned her date over dinner to her parents and they had asked a few questions and were done with that. James though had been there on Saturday, interrogating the boy- her parents were not to be seen.
It was James she had called when a year later David and she had broken up. He had come over immediately and she had cried on his shoulders as she experienced her first heart break. She remembered that day- her face was covered with tears and snot when she had told him that David had cheated on her.
He had calmed her, let her cry. He had made her dinner, and they had talked just like old times. Emma had not bothered them, knowing her big sister needed their father more that day.
It was over dinner that she had finally told him, that her mother had cheated on him with her own father. His answer had been simple- "I know."
"you knew?" she had asked, a little surprised.
"yes, I put two and two together, and well, one always knows when their partner is cheating on them, though it is up to you whether you want to ignore it or not."
"and you?"
He smiled, "what did you do the instant you knew?"
"I slapped him across his face, called him- a bad bad word- and walked away."
"yes well, I did the opposite."
"you ignored it?"
He had nodded, sitting back looking sad, "I loved your mom too much, and had hopelessly hoped that this was just a phase and she would get over it, though I didn't know it was your father, at that time, but when he moved in I put two and two together, just like you did."
"well, no actually I heard them- to be honest, I hated them for doing that to you. And now I hate her more, you loved her, and she chose to go with a man, who had walked out on her, and me."
"hey, don't say that, your mother loves you a lot, and you shouldn't hate her for following her heart."
"well, she hast bothered to show she loves me, and I can, not like her for doing what she did to you. You have been more of a father to me, than my biological dad could ever be, and she broke your heart- I can never forgive her for that. Don't you hate her for doing what she did?"
"No, I don't."
"Why?"
"Well, love is more complicated than that. She hurt me ' yes, but I can't bring myself to hate her. I just can't, I am angry at her but I don't and can never hate her. I guess that is the thing with love, true love that is," she laughed, "Hey! I know you are a bit on the practical side, but true love does exist, kiddo."
"I highly doubt that."
"you do now, but someday you will meet a person, with whom, you will fall in love. And anyone can fall in love; no falling in love doesn't mean true love- that is just the beginning. True love is when two people don't only love each other, but are also emotionally and intellectually a match- a person who is like you but also not like you. Who challenges you, and who supports you, and most importantly a person who loves you for exactly who you are. Your mother is my true love, she was all those things for me, and I was all those things to her too. But she didn't love me for exactly who I was, for that she needed her heart- metaphorically speaking. She was my true love, but now I come to see that for her your father was her true love. She feels all those things with him, not me, she had given her heart, her whole heart to your father, she loved me, but she could never love me like she loved your father.. I understand that, it took time, but I do now, so I don't hate her."
She had gotten up from her chair on the table and hugged him, "someday, when I fall in love, and feel all that you say, I will call you and tell you were right, dad."
That was the first time she had called him dad, before that it had always been James, but after that night she knew that only one man deserved to be called her father, and that was James.
He had smiled, "I will wait for that day Kiddo."
She had sat back on her chair and smiled at him, "thanks, I feel much better now."
"anytime, but you didn't tell me, why did he cheat on you?"
"I wouldn't sleep with him, no matter how much he pressurized me."
He had looked at her proudly, "well done."
They had eaten dinner, and cleaned the plates, then they had gone and seen a movie with Emma.
Her mother and so called father had come back from whatever gala they had been to, and James had casually asked her mother for a word. She knew he would tell her about David.
She had felt silly later that night, for thinking that perhaps her mother would come and at least ask how she was. Her mother had done no such thing, bidding farewell to James and then going to her room, to take off her clothes and jewellery. Not even bothering to look at her.
That day she had hated her mother and so called father, as she now thought of him, more than ever. And she remembered thinking that of all decisions her mother had made, perhaps the worst was to let go of a man like James, to let go of her father.
Eleven years later she was standing in her apartment, swirling the wine she had just poured for herself, thinking about the man, she had thought was her "true love", but now thinking of that night she realised how wrong she had been. Prithvi had not been her true love- he had just been a man she had fallen in love with deeply and madly in love with. But now that she looked back, she realised their relationship, had not been about stimulating conversation, she couldn't talk to him about things she loved. There was no debating about Michelangelo and Leonardo Da Vinci, no discussing about Hitchcock movies- whether Psycho was really his best work, as many claimed. He had always been so busy, and she had always so busy. When they had met, the talk was about work, and how people they knew. It was about lust and passion, not romance and compatibility, it was about them being a "power couple" and not a couple in love. Letting go of him had been the most difficult thing she had had to do, she was so much in love with him, it had taken years and countless hours of robotic work, and a few rebounds to get over him.
Surprisingly now when she remembered him, it didn't ache as much as it used to, and she wasn't overwhelmed by a feeling of regret for letting go of him. More surprisingly, it had been because of a certain man she had deemed incapable of being a good friend. It had been a week, and spending time with him had been the most fun she had had in such a long time. He made her laugh again, and the more she laughed, she had felt her free, ambitious, fun side creeping back into her. With him, amazingly enough she was finding her groove back, something she had lost when she had a year ago broken up with the man she had her longest relationship with, someone she thought she would marry some day. With Rohan Mehra of all people in this world Zia was becoming Zia again.
She smiled, taking her phone from the table, she dialled the one man's number she always dialled, when anything of significance happened to her.
He picked up after a few rings, 'James McKinley here.'
'hey dad, Zia here, I have news, I think I am finally getting over Prithvi.'
*~*~*
~Khanak~
ILLUMINATED
Life wasn't easy when you had a sick parent, especially one with Bi-polar. No life was tough, there were good days, then there were bad, sometimes, whole year before bad days came, but they did. But children are adaptive, and she adapted. She was happy in her world, her father- lovingly and fun, her mother who showered love to her, who made sure that she knew she loved her, no matter what, and a nanny slash housemaid who though strict was sweet too. Yes she did have the grandmother who was disapproving many times, but she visited only once a year, so it was fine.
But then that day came, that day changed everything, everything. Her life could be divided into two parts, everything until that day and everything after that day.
Something had snapped inside of her that day, something had changed, something was left behind. And her life was never the same again.
It had started as a normal, insignificant day, the weather was normal, not too hot, only she had woken up on her own, rather than Laxmi didi opening the curtains and pulling her out of bed, pushing her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, while she ran to make breakfast, warning her not to go to bed again. She had looked at the watch, it was nine am, she was two hours late, her school had already started forget about being late for the bus.
She had called out for Laxmi didi, who had come into her room immediately, rather than coming ten minutes later, as if she had been waiting outside, waiting for her to call her. She had come in, smiled and told her that her parents had thought it best of she stayed home today, she told her to go brush as she went and got her favourite breakfast, while she could watch cartoons. That must have told her something was wrong, she was never allowed television this early in the morning, even on Sundays she was to read books, draw paint, play anything but cartoons. But she was ten, and much too excited about a holiday and breakfast in bed to analyse anything.
She had spent all her day in her pyjamas watching television, and eating whatever she desired, she remembered thinking to herself that she was every lucky. Unaware that miles away, her mother was taking her last few breaths, as the doctors tried to keep her alive, unaware that her life had changed forever, as the monitor in a hospital ICU showed her mother's heart beat fade away.
It was evening when her father had come home. It was when she had seen him come into her room that her heart had instinctively started beating faster; she knew something was terribly wrong. Her father usually came into her room, with a big smile demanding hug from his daughter, that day he had come with a defeated posture, eyes red, and his steps had been heavy. He had sat there, and burst into tears looking at his daughter's innocent and concerned eyes. He had taken her into a hug, and broken the news of her mother's death. Told her how her mother had taken an entire bottle of her sleeping pills, how he had found her when he had gone to take water in the middle of the night, how they had rushed her to the hospital, how they had tried, but her mom had succumbed to death.
She hadn't cried, she hadn't done anything, just sat there with a feeling of dread, so profound that it paralysed her, creeping throughout her body. She had just sat there trying to imagine a life without her mother- she couldn't.
She saw her mother being burnt. She saw her father in tears, a broken man, as he set fire to her mother's funeral pyre. Her grandmother was in tears too, it was the first and last time when she had seen her grandmother show vulnerability, sadness, unhappiness at the loss of her daughter. She hadn't cried, she wanted to be strong for her dad, but it wasn't just that, she just couldn't shout, or cry, break down, all she felt was a numbness in her heart. She couldn't feel anything, like she had died inside.
It was at night when everybody was sleeping, when she had gone to her bathroom, and stared at her reflection after washing her face. She realised she had her mother's eyes, and her hair was a bit curly like hers, and her nose looked the same, something weirdly she hadn't noticed before. That was when suddenly she felt a huge rush of emotion, and she had after days of her mother's death cried, silently, in the corner of her bathroom. She had called out to her mother, asking her why, why she had left her, why she had gone away, never to come back.
That night was followed by many others, but her answers never answered.
Her father had completely broken down, he was depressed, he hardly ate, hardly came out of his room, he just slept the whole day. She found him once, talking to her, telling her how he would always hate himself for not knowing what she had been up to, for not being able to prevent it- for not being able to save her.
That day, she had rushed to her room, and stared at her mother's photograph, but she felt anger rather than sorrow. That day she didn't want to cry and call out for her mother, she wanted to shout at her, scold her.
"Why!?" she had asked, "why did you kill yourself? We were happy, we had problems but we were happy. But then you made a decision for us, you killed yourself, and now look at us!" tears had rolled down her cheeks.
"Dad is always sad, and me, I ca- can't even cry in front of him, because I know that seeing me sad will only make him more sad. I cry every night on the floor of my bathroom, trying not to make noise, so no one hears, and dad never comes out of his room. And you did this to us, you bailed on us mom! Why? Why!"
She had thrown her mother's picture across the room in anger then she had turned to the mirror, looking herself, " you were weak, you bailed out on us, and on life. You ran away like a coward! But I am not like you, I look like you but I will not be like you. I-" she had fought the knot in her throat, "I will be strong and I will fight, I won't give up, I will never give up! Never! I will be nothing like you mom."
*
Months passed and things started to be normal again, her father had started to go back to office, she too had stopped crying as often as she used to. It seemed they would be okay, when her mother's birthday had arrived. It was a day, marked with celebration as all family days were, they would always have a family day, where the three of them would always spend the day together, watching movies and at night they would all go for an extravagant dinner.
That day, after months of not crying she had cried. She told Laxmi Didi that she won't go to school, she hadn't asked any questions. She had slept in feeling too heavy with sorrow to do anything. When she had come out, her father had gone to the office, and she had spent the whole day watching movies in her parents room- she was angry at her mother, but she missed her too, and she wanted to keep the family tradition alive, even if it was by herself.
In the evening she had ordered Chinese and kept watching movies, until her father had come. He sat next to her, on the bed, and smiled at her, a sad sort of smile, something now she was used to.
"hey Shona, can I sit with you?" he had asked.
She had simply nodded, and shifted to give him space. They had sat together watching beauty and the beast for fifteen minutes when he had cleared his throat.
'Shone, I want to tell you something."
She had looked at him, pausing the movies, waiting for him to say something.
"the past months have been extremely difficult, and ' and I feel we didn't deal with things the way we should have. We are a family, and we lost a very important member of our family, you mother and we should have dealt with it together, but we drifted apart, and I am sorry for that. I loved your mother- and I just didn't know how to exist without her, and I am sorry I was too caught up with my own grief."
"It's okay dad, we are bother grieving."
"No it's not, we should be helping each other, we are all alone now, it is just the two of us, we are a team Shona, and we have to act like one to."
She had smiled, "I agree dad."
"So, father daughter pact- we are together, no secrets, no keeping things from one another, we are now friends, companions and of course father and daughter."
"done!"
*
She smiled weakly as she stared at the city before her from the balcony of her home, as her dog slept on one of the chairs she had put there.
'done...' she whispered, 'no secrets, no keeping things from one another.'
A tear rolled down her face.
She and her dad had become a team, they were friends and years had passed, but she had not forgotten her pledge. She had not forgotten what she had told herself and her mother when she was ten. And she never realised when those words had taken over her life, when before taking major decisions of her life, she would think "would mom do so?" and if the answer came yes, then she would do exactly the opposite. Not to mention, slowly but surely she had built these high walls around her, not allowing anyone to penetrate, and actually get to know her.
And now she on paper had everything, a great boyfriend and friend, greats friends, and happy family, and a fabulous job, and perhaps a promotion on the way, but she still felt hollow. The same emptiness she felt when she had lost her mother. She felt incomplete, finally realising how broken she was.
She had spent her entire life trying hard not to be her mother, not realising that she wasn't allowing herself to be who she was.
And now she felt empty, broken, and incomplete and even though she had achieved so much, she was unhappy.
She had Shaan and she loved him, but she hadn't allowed herself to accept that because she wanted to fix herself first, to get her business, her life in order. But his sort of confession had forced herself to accept what she felt.
But now more than ever she was confused whether she had made the right decision or not, whether she was right to date Shaan and drag him into the mess her life had proven to be since the past few months.
And now more than ever she hoped her mom was here to guide her, advice her, to say something, anything...
She took a deep breath and looked up into the sky, smiling, the best place to start was by making amends with the one person she has loved the most in her life.
'I love you maa, and I am sorry.'
*~*~*
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