Stains
Staring up at the star lit night sky, as he leaned against the French windows that opened to his- no their- poolside, Arnav realized something. He relished the feeling of comfort that came with blind faith, the brightest star in the horizon; he imagined it as his mother. He closed his eyes feeling content, remembering her smile, her tinkling anklets, her soothing lullabies and just her, his Ma'
Standing here now, almost 15 years after he last saw her, today he felt at ease, he could think about her and breathe, both at the same time.
But his relief was short lived, a loud streak of thunder and lightning tore through the peaceful silence and the sky grew cloudy. Arnav got restless, he couldn't see his star, his ma'.it was like she had left him all over again.
Turning around sharply he let his eyes roam over the sleeping figure of his wife, his Khushi, tomorrow she would leave him forever, he thought wistfully throwing a glance at the offensive calendar hanging by his bed. He stared at the date, and he noticed something peculiar about the day.
And suddenly memories of his horrific past flooded him, images of his beloved people crying, of tears, o blood, of hate and finally betrayal.
He felt his strength leave him; he staggered on his feet, clumsily slumping near the recliner, in his haste to lean on something he knocked the mug of coffee kept on his side table.
The black mug toppled over, spilling its contents efficiently on the expensive Persian rug that covered the floor, and then it crashed the sound of breaking china resonating around the dimly lit room.
The dark murky stain on the tan floor brought back his memories of that last cursed night, and all he could do was stare at it spread, and Arnav Singh Raizada did just that, stare unseeingly.
Khushi's eyes snapped open at the sound of breaking china and she jumped up in fright automatically turning to her right to see if her husband was alright. When she couldn't find him there she panicked, feeling a painful tug at her heart just the way she did when she knew he was in trouble. She hurried to flick the bedside lamp on and light filled the room. Getting up from the bed her eyes sought him, she found him on the floor.
She was shocked, completely at loss of words. Never before in all the time she had known him had she seen him in such a vulnerable position. What caught her immediate attention was not the fact that her mighty husband was crouched on the earth, not that he was silent, not that he didn't sense her presence and not that he kept on staring at the stain, but the haunted look in his eyes. The same look he had when he was first left alone, when he had the first taste of solitude.
Khushi didn't understand his strange disposition, he was fine until they had gone off to sleep and now here he was on the floor like a defeated man. This couldn't be ASR; this wasn't her Arnav, her strength, her pillar, the man the world bowed to the man she loved, and yet this man was familiar, strange as it may sound this was the real Arnav Singh Raizada the reality behind the harsh faade. And she knew him, this was whom he hid in his deep eyes, this was the side of him he refused to share, the broken Arnav within him'
The silence was killing, Khushi was not a silent persona and yet today she couldn't bring herself to speak, to talk to him, to do something, anything. But she just stood there looking at him waiting for him to speak.
Which he did not
Tears sprung in her eyes at his indifference, and it hurt her more to see him hurt, pulling herself together he moved forward and knelt next to him. He did not look up at her face but moved his shivering hands to hold hers, tightly in both of his. His hands were cold, ice cold and it worried Khushi.
She blinked her tears away and stroked the hands that clasped hers. She wouldn't cry today, she would stay strong and comfort him, for this time the roles reversed, it was him seeking comfort and she swore to give him what he demanded, verbally or silently. She had to make him understand that he wasn't alone.
'Arnav,'' she whispered begging him to speak
And finally he let out a sigh and lifted his gaze to her honey orbs.
His tear glazed face and red-rimmed eyes were not something she expected
Opening her mouth to voice her horror she felt, she was silenced by a weak voice
'Mein teek hun Khushi, I'm fine' he spoke in his tired voice; he hadn't had it left in him to argue.
A plain assurance, a blatant lie. She knew he just said it to make her feel better; he hated being the reason to hurt his loved ones. And she knew he knew she'd see through it.
She inched closer to him and squeezed his hands, he glanced at her. Giving up, he leaned against the chaise, and closed his eyes.
She waited for him to speak.
'Khushi, 15 years ago, on this day my Ma had left me.' His whispered,
'She promised to never leave me but she did, she left me with nothing but a few memories that made me need her presence even more and'and a stain.'
Khushi looked at the coffee, spilled on the rug when he said stain, and then to his face, his closed eyes and his tense jaw. 'I hate a mess Khushi and stains, they remind me blood, and death'' he trailed of, his grip on her hand loosening.
She held their hands tighter, silent tears streaming down her face; she didn't bother to wipe them off, or his, what was the point? More flew past.
Another thunder struck somewhere, and it begun raining. She thought about the little boy who lost so much, but never complained, wanted so much but never asked, he was hers. The little boy the angry yang man, he was all hers, her Arnav'
His little fears made him the way he was, and she saw him in a new light.
As she stayed awake waiting for a new dawn, holding his hands through the night as he dozed off in his uncomfortable position, she made a decision.
She vowed to take all his pain away, to pull him out of the dark abyss he had stayed in for so long, and stay with him, forever'
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