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Tick. Tick. Tick.
The whitewashed walls of the waiting room are barren and sparse. Your head feels heavy and you close your eyes with a loud exhale. They left you a long time ago, when your agony was apparent, and your pain visible. You barely noticed they were there. You did not hear your sister's cries, your brothers' questions or the sobs of your relatives, old and new. You were barely there. And so they left. Left you to sit there stoic, numbed and broken as your brain painfully relived the moments over and over again.
Red.
So much red everywhere. She wore red. Her eyes, nose, cheeks were stained with the shades of the hue. They were also red when you told her to marry you. Caged like an animal, she looked at you with her luminous eyes. Eyes that haunted you ever since she fell into your arms. Eyes that haunted you ever since you fell in love. A myraid of emotions passed through those eyes at that instant. Shock. Anger.
Despair.
And so she ran. Why wouldn't she? You had asked her to choose the impossible. Her family's happiness or her dignity. She always had self-respect, something you deeply admired about her. That was why she ran.
She ran away from a monster.
You stare at the ground, ignoring the inquisitive looks the nursing and health care staff were throwing your way as they made their rounds around the ward. You don't see them. You don't hear them. You no longer feel. But that is a lie that you have perpetuated throughout your whole adult life. A lie you can no longer deny.
You feel too much. You feel everything in all its nuances. The bitterness that is your past, the agony at the horrific lost of your parents, the betrayal of your uncle. You feel every single damn thing, unfaded through the passage of time, and still as strong in its intensity. You feel too much, and so you built walls. Walls that reached to the stars. Walls that no one could climb.
Until she came along.
She did not climb your walls but fell right over them, taking residence in your heart. You fought hard against it. Oh how you fought. You denied her presence, pushed her away and hurt her. And now you have hurt her again.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
It wasn't her fault that you fell in love with her. It wasn't her fault you misunderstood her. That fault laid with you. But you were never wrong. And so you attacked, lashed out and punished.
And now you are sitting in a waiting room, at a hospital, struggling to breathe as she laid in her room struggling to live.
She ran and you followed her, all the way to the car park. Taunting her indecision, her status, and her character. You told her you expected she would react as such, not wanting to sacrifice her lover. Her Shyamji.But then she whipped herself around, and you took a step back. The incredulity and heartbreak evident in her eyes made you question if you were right.
You are wrong, she had said simply. But before you had time to register her words, a flash of light came hurtling down the street. And you were too late.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The second hand of the clock fills the hallway with it's soft ticking, moving with cold consistency. But to you, every tick held the desperation of a drowning man. You wallow in your self-recriminations of events past because what else could you do? There was nothing else left to do. You wait, your heart stuttering with agony, your head wrecked with grief and your breaths filled with pain. Turmoil had always been your loyal companion.
And so you sat there in that colourless room, waiting for a sign. Waiting for redemption. Hoping beyond hope that you can put things right again. But your answer lies in the next room, comatose and barely breathing. And so you wait, playing the waiting game as the clock goes
Tick. Tick. Tick.
---
A/N: An alternative take on what happened after Arnav's coercion during the wedding that night. A nice break from all the sugary fluff I'm writing for my SS: Hello, Neighbour. Hope you like it!
DO NOT COPY THIS POST AS THIS IS EXCLUSIVE TO INDIA FORUMS
The whitewashed walls of the waiting room are barren and sparse. Your head feels heavy and you close your eyes with a loud exhale. They left you a long time ago, when your agony was apparent, and your pain visible. You barely noticed they were there. You did not hear your sister's cries, your brothers' questions or the sobs of your relatives, old and new. You were barely there. And so they left. Left you to sit there stoic, numbed and broken as your brain painfully relived the moments over and over again.
Red.
So much red everywhere. She wore red. Her eyes, nose, cheeks were stained with the shades of the hue. They were also red when you told her to marry you. Caged like an animal, she looked at you with her luminous eyes. Eyes that haunted you ever since she fell into your arms. Eyes that haunted you ever since you fell in love. A myraid of emotions passed through those eyes at that instant. Shock. Anger.
Despair.
And so she ran. Why wouldn't she? You had asked her to choose the impossible. Her family's happiness or her dignity. She always had self-respect, something you deeply admired about her. That was why she ran.
She ran away from a monster.
You stare at the ground, ignoring the inquisitive looks the nursing and health care staff were throwing your way as they made their rounds around the ward. You don't see them. You don't hear them. You no longer feel. But that is a lie that you have perpetuated throughout your whole adult life. A lie you can no longer deny.
You feel too much. You feel everything in all its nuances. The bitterness that is your past, the agony at the horrific lost of your parents, the betrayal of your uncle. You feel every single damn thing, unfaded through the passage of time, and still as strong in its intensity. You feel too much, and so you built walls. Walls that reached to the stars. Walls that no one could climb.
Until she came along.
She did not climb your walls but fell right over them, taking residence in your heart. You fought hard against it. Oh how you fought. You denied her presence, pushed her away and hurt her. And now you have hurt her again.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
It wasn't her fault that you fell in love with her. It wasn't her fault you misunderstood her. That fault laid with you. But you were never wrong. And so you attacked, lashed out and punished.
And now you are sitting in a waiting room, at a hospital, struggling to breathe as she laid in her room struggling to live.
She ran and you followed her, all the way to the car park. Taunting her indecision, her status, and her character. You told her you expected she would react as such, not wanting to sacrifice her lover. Her Shyamji.But then she whipped herself around, and you took a step back. The incredulity and heartbreak evident in her eyes made you question if you were right.
You are wrong, she had said simply. But before you had time to register her words, a flash of light came hurtling down the street. And you were too late.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The second hand of the clock fills the hallway with it's soft ticking, moving with cold consistency. But to you, every tick held the desperation of a drowning man. You wallow in your self-recriminations of events past because what else could you do? There was nothing else left to do. You wait, your heart stuttering with agony, your head wrecked with grief and your breaths filled with pain. Turmoil had always been your loyal companion.
And so you sat there in that colourless room, waiting for a sign. Waiting for redemption. Hoping beyond hope that you can put things right again. But your answer lies in the next room, comatose and barely breathing. And so you wait, playing the waiting game as the clock goes
Tick. Tick. Tick.
---
A/N: An alternative take on what happened after Arnav's coercion during the wedding that night. A nice break from all the sugary fluff I'm writing for my SS: Hello, Neighbour. Hope you like it!
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