Chapter 3
KETHAKI
I sat in my room, frustration gripping me like a vice. I sat there, hands clutching my hair and nails digging into my scalp with painful intensity. Dev Uncle's words revolved in my mind and the images of him saying something as offensive as arranging a marriage with his god-awful son refused to leave my mind. It echoed behind the constant curses my mind conjured.
My own father's voice haunted me.
'It's done, Shiv. She is getting married to Aryan.'
'She is getting married to Aryan.'
'She is getting married.'
Married. Marriage.
Bound to a man.
For the next seven lives.
Forever.
Nope.
No. Never.
I thought I had made that clear to my father. Or the entire family for that matter.
Marriage was out of the question. I was not getting married. Not now. Not ever.
Then why this?
And why him?
Nothing made sense. Until yesterday, everything was going exactly how I liked it.
I was twenty-nine, had a job, was loved and did not have to worry about any man. I was living the perfect life. It wasn't even as though I was longing for someone, or hoped to find love sometime in the future.
I had no plans involving a man whatsoever.
I did not want a boyfriend, or a lover or a husband. I wanted men to stay away from me.
In fact, I so detested the idea of men, that it just became another reason to hate that Peasant.
Because he was a man. A man, so very manly, around him, my already short stature of five feet, three inches, becomes even smaller when around his five feet, eleven inches. It was absurd. I have been with men of six feet and above. Multiple times. And yet, only around him, I feel smaller. I hate him. I hate him for being a man.
All my exes have made me feel like how I wanted them to make me feel. A sensual woman, who oozes grace and sexuality. Back in school, I was, by no means, the most beautiful girl. I was pretty, but I wasn't the girl whom men took a double look at or the one who had many admirers just because I looked like their dream manifested before them. I wasn't the most gorgeous girl in the room.
I was wanted because I was the girl who looked men in their eyes, held it, and smirked. I was the one who walked like a melody, talked like lyrics and was music personified. Like Beethoven's symphony.
Those boys made me feel like that sensual woman. A woman to be conquered, because the walls were always there and everyone could see them. The music that was hidden in those walls, was what they wanted to win. Only a few did. To be exact, just three.
Those three boys made me feel like a prize.
So, I hate him for being a man who makes me feel like a woman.
I hate him for being a man.
I hate him.
The door swung open and in came Shivansh. The one true pillar of my life.
"Di?" He called from the doorway. "You haven't eaten anything."
With that, a domestic help entered my room, with the food, and set the coffee table in my room with it.
I turned away from the food and just lay on my bed, facing away from the door.
I wasn't aware that my family expected me to process this new situation so soon, that they thought it would be okay to interact with me, through Shivansh. Since, storming out of the lunch, I had not eaten anything, screamed once, cried multiple times and cursed even more. My body was begging me to eat.
I didn't reply. I didn't want to. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wished for space and silence. Even though my body was craving food, my soul wanted peace. My heart deserved safety and my mind deserved its wishes fulfilled.
And right now, my wish was to sleep. To recede within myself and stay there for a while. Until the demons of my past slept and until my scars didn't burn. Until those images didn't flash before my eyes and my trauma didn't turn my whole body cold.
"Di? I know you are up." His voice a decibel over a whisper. So soft, so calm and so warm. "You need to eat."
I heard him walk over to me, and the bed dipped where he sat. What little light came from the living room was blocked when he leaned over my body, to look at me. My eyes were open. I didn't have it in me to close them. The images were still sharp. My past, always a blink away.
Since my father's declaration, the memories surged again. Marriage. Trusting a man. Being tied to one. I couldn't do it. And he knew it.
"Di!" He shook me a little. I didn't respond. Instead, I curled into myself even more. "Look, papa shouldn't have done what he did. I know it, you know it and even he does. So, please. Just eat, and then, I will go and talk to him. But before that, I need to be assured that you ate."
I know him. I know his caring nature and just how soft my baby brother is. For his sake, I got up and sat, leaning against the headboard. I didn't look at him.
He strode towards the coffee table, brought over the tray and gently placed it on my lap. I began to eat.
"Maithili has been calling non-stop. She wants to talk," he spoke carefully. "Should I give her a call?"
I nodded.
He grabbed his phone and called her. She picked it up in the first ring.
"Hello? Di?" Her voice called out, and before I could reply, I heard it.
Him. In my home again, under my roof and having the audacity to speak and make his presence known to me.
"Give me a minute, Maithili. There is a pest here and I have to squash it," I said and got up.
"Wait, what's happening, Shiv?" My baby sister asked, her voice hurried. "I need to speak with Di, and she is speaking nonsense! What's going on?"
Shiv slapped his forehead and followed me. "Aryan Bhai just returned. She is going out."
"Oh fuck! Put me on speaker! I am muting myself! I want to hear everything." Shivansh simply did, as Maithili requested.
I stormed towards the living room, watching as Aryan stood in the middle, facing Dev uncle. The expression on his, the sheer exasperation and defeat, conveyed that he was as pissed off as I was.
The minute I slam the door of my room closed, Aryan's eyes jump towards me. This habit of his was surely annoying. Every time I made a move, made a sound or even took a breath, this man knew, and he made sure I knew. He made sure that I knew he was seeing me. Watching me.
But I didn't hold his eyes for long this time. I looked away, and looked everyone else dead in their eyes, papa being the last. "I am not marrying him." I simply state.
"A rare moment in history. We are in agreement." I didn't bother looking at him when he said that. I didn't want to. I wouldn't!
"You know you don't have to think about it and make a decision today. Think over it. Then, give us an answer by this weekend," Papa said.
I scoffed. "I don't have to think about it, papa. I feel it in my bones. Every part of me is screaming No!" I didn't know how to explain it to them.
I did when he first talked to me about marriage. When he first brought over the boy everyone approved of. Then, I sat him down. I told him. He knew my trauma. Hell, he saved me from it. But he didn't know how it affected me.
So, to some extent, I understood my father. I realised his fears. But, I didn't have to agree with them.
"There is no other option for us, uncle. We don't want this," Aryan said.
"Think about it, Aryan" Dev uncle spoke. He stood up and walked over to him. "Otherwise, I would have to force this decision on you."
My eyebrows pinched. I never took Dev uncle to be the parent who forces their decisions onto their kids. Moreover, I never took Aryan to be the kind of child who would take it without a fight.
I looked at Aryan and sure enough, his eyes were narrowed. "You can't force me."
"I can't?"
Aryan paused for a moment. Nobody in the room spoke. That's when his eyes widened, and he whispered, "No!"
"Give me your decision by the weekend, Son, or the Murthy's deal will be gone from your hands."
Then, came the Aryan I was familiar with. The man who got on my every nerve. "So, you will take away Murthy's deal from my hands, if I don't marry her?"
I almost scoffed. The audacity!
"I never said that."
Now I was confused. What else could he mean?
"Then what did you say, Papa, because I am having a hard fucking time understanding everything that is coming out of your mouth today!"
I gasped, internally, of course. This wasn't Aryan. The Aryan who followed his father and claims to have learnt everything from him, would never talk to him that way. And sure enough, he apologized instantly. "I am sorry."
"You are angry. I will let it go."
Aryan lowered his eyes. "Still."
Dev uncle smiled. "Take the time we are giving you, Son. Think about it, hard and logically." Then, he turned to me, and his voice softened. "Decisions like these aren't taken on a whim or with your emotions. Even people who love each other and have been together for years make these decisions logically. So, take your time, Beta."
Papa turned to face me. "You have a history, a past," he said. "And yes, we are all aware of it, but what I am talking about is your past. Your life. As two individuals. Separate from your feelings and opinions of one another; individuals who were the Head Prefects of your school and whose partnership is talked about, still."
We couldn't say anything after that. So, I turned and left. I knew Shiv was following me, and sure enough, when I turned to close the door behind me, he was there, closing it after him. The phone in his hands still displayed his picture with Maithili. She was muted.
"So, what are we thinking," Shivansh asked me.
"You guys are alone now?" Maithili asked, after unmuting herself to which, Shivansh hummed.
"This is so screwed up!" She said, and I plopped on the bed.
Why? Why was he doing this? I understood it and yet, I didn't.
I needed answers. Desperately. This wasn't right! It wasn't fair!
"Di, say something." It was Maithili.
"What do I say Maithili? I have already said everything. Everything!"
Shivansh sat down beside me. "So, I will say something," Maithili said. "Shiv, switch to video."
Shivansh accepted her video call and placed the screen in front of us. I looked at her. She was clearly in college, and I was hoping she hadn't skipped a lecture to get involved in my mess.
"Tauji is wrong here. For the first time, I will say this, that he is wrong!" She started. "His intentions, wants, needs and desires are tertiary, and not even secondary. Your feelings and desires are secondary, because first, and foremost, the way he cornered you and Aryan bhai, while the whole family knew about it, is wrong. Plain and simple. There are no ifs or buts. Marriage... Marriage is..." She paused.
Her expression was that of contemplation. She was younger than me by 4 years, and yet, she was married. She went to college, found someone, fell in love and married him. Even though her husband is the biggest asshole of the worst kind, she was still married. She found it in her to fall in love. She found it in her to trust someone. Trust someone with her heart, body and soul. She trusted her husband. I could never imagine myself doing that.
"Fuck it. Screw marriage. It's about you. Your choice and your life. You don't want to marry, so you won't marry! But saying it in front of the whole family, pressuring and manipulating you is wrong!" She completed.
"Di, Mathili is right. Forcing you is not the right way. Moreover, you have stated multiple times in the last six years that you don't want to get married. Until you were in the UK, nobody said anything, because they knew you would refuse to come home if they pressured you. And then, one day, you decided to come back, because you knew the family had given up, and that was eight years ago. Then, there was calm for two years before Dadaji started this topic again, and it didn't stop. I hated it. I knew what you wanted with life and yet, Dadaji never stopped. Then Papa got involved and we are here! So, remember Di, we are here and we support your decision."
Oh, how I wished I could tell you what I wanted with life, Shiv. What the thirteen-year-old Kethaki wanted with life, was my trauma now. My dreams, hopes and fantasies were my today's nightmare.
How I wish I could tell you what I wanted now, was the fear of my younger self. What I wanted now, was what I dreaded in the past. My life was completely different and I was a different person.
How I wish I could scream at the top of my voice, what I wanted. How desperately, I wanted to be saved. From what? I didn't know.
How I wish I could whisper, the things that I have locked somewhere deep in my body, and yet when that desperation hits in the middle of the night, it's my heart that burns. It's my chest that aches. It's my soul that cries.
How different my life would have been, and how easier it would have been for everyone else if... if...
If...
If...
IF... IF... IF...
Bloody IF!
Only IF!
'If only!'
"I want to be alone." With that, I lay on my bed again, refusing to close my eyes. Even with them open, I could see it, closing my eyes would just make it more visible. "Leave Shiv."
I didn't turn around to see if he had left. I didn't even go out to see if the guests were gone. I didn't see them off.
I just lay on my bed, reviewing what had transpired during the day. How many hours it had been, I didn't remember. Just that I was on my bed, and time was passing by. Soon, it would be dinner time, and I hoped, for all their sakes, that nobody came and disturbed me. I wouldn't be held responsible for what would happen after.
Nobody came.
And that hurt even more. It hurt, that they knew I hadn't eaten anything, even my lunch was left untouched after taking a few bites of it before I stormed out again. I was hungry. I was angry. I was hurt. I was broken.
It was like that night, all those years ago, when I lay on this same bed, feeling all this. I had come back from the hospital and it was my first night home. I couldn't sleep. What had happened was tragic. That was the source of my emotions.
But this time? It was a mere suggestion for marriage. Marriage! And I was feeling exactly how I felt that night.
I was ruined.
The door opened and walked in Papa. A domestic help followed him, much like Shivansh, and she rolled in a trolley. It was dinner.
Papa didn't forget about me.
"Come on, sweetheart." He walked over to the bed and placed the tray in my lap.
I just looked at him. My heart clenched.
"Eat beta. I am not here to talk to you about it. Just here to make sure you eat before you go to sleep."
I didn't even look down to see what I was eating. I was just eating. Because I trusted my father. I trusted this man sitting in front of me, who never went to bed before asking if all three members of his family, me, Mumma and Shivansh had eaten.
I ate.
"Thank you, sweetheart." He got up, collected the tray and deposited it on the trolley. Then, he walked over to me, and said, "Come on, under the covers you go."
Like before. Like before the incident. Like during I was reeling from the aftermath. Like after the incident. When I turned into this. The night before I left for the UK, the night I returned from the UK for good. Every single time, if he happened to be at home. When he wasn't he would call all three of us, ask about our day and wish us good night.
When he lifted the covers, I went under it. He fixed the pillow and bent down to kiss my forehead. "Good night my love. Don't think too much, and just go to sleep."
He walked to the door and paused when I called out to him, "Papa?"
He turned and leaned against the door frame, waiting for me to continue.
"Why?" I asked.
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