imagine43 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#1
This piece is inspired by this wonderful person, I met here on IF. I owed it to her...

It is a sad/gloomy story, for those relationships/friendships, where people are destined to stay apart. For, the words that stay unsaid, the messages that remain unsent and feelings that remain unexpressed..

Finally, the day has arrived!! Finally, it's February 16th!! *Sigh* Oh, how have I been desperately waiting for this day.. waiting since this day passed by last year. It has been a long arduous year, yet another lifeless year..


I could not sleep well last night, for the intensity of anticipation of tomorrow was unbearable. I hoped the morning would bring in some relief, but the crack of dawn, only worsened my anxiety. My mind churning at an absurd pace, trying to guess and second guess, what I am to receive today, what words it would read and if I would receive it at all... I barely managed to finish the chores this morning and quickly made it out of the house, before letting anyone notice my restlessness... And now, here in my cabin, I wait, with utmost impatience..


The clock seems to be ticking slower than usual. I pace around hastily, in my little room, wishing if I could somehow fast forward it. I open the file at the top of the pile on my table, in an attempt to busy myself with work, but in vain. Unable to register a single word, I close it shut, letting out a deep sigh. I fiddle with the pallu of my saari, twisting, turning and tugging on it. But, Nothing seems to be helping. I start pacing the length of my small room again, alternately glancing at the hospital entrance and the clock. I know it's not time yet! I grab a glass of water and gulp it down in one shot, begging the butterflies in my stomach to calm down, but they, only seem to multiply in number and take over my entire body. My hands are now cold and so are my feet..


For an instant, I fear, someone might take notice and come looking for me, as I haven't stepped out of the cabin since I entered about 3 hours ago. I try to regain composure, repeatedly assuring myself, "he has promised". Unable to bear the tension any more, I grab a few papers, on the top of the table and rush out of the cabin.


As soon as I drop the papers, I hurry back. Then again, my mind picks up.. where it had never left off.. I slump into my chair and throw my head back, exhaling deeply. As I sit, staring at the ceiling, thinking about this date, the past comes rushing back to me..


Today is February 16th, a date, that has off late become the most important one of my life. No, it is not my birthday or any of my children's birthday, or the day we got married or... or even the day we were separated!! Sigh!! Yes, we are now separated for 10 years.. 10 long lonely years of misery. This date, did not hold any significance in my life until 5 years ago.. when, on this day, I had once again heard my own, long forgotten name.. "Mrs Ragini Khanna". My name, that not mine anymore...


The first few years of separation were almost all drenched in tears. The abundant tears, I didnt know existed. My world had come to an abrupt end, Nachiket, had walked away, to never return. And off with him had gone my 2 kids, Ranbir and Aagam. The family was mercilessly divided and my heart shattered, into pieces, so many, I cant even fathom. I cried, I wept, day or night, unable to reason, unable to accept, sometimes trying to find what went wrong, where did I lack, sometimes just buried in my agony. At times I blamed myself and at times, I cursed him. I hated myself, for loving him beyond madness, and blindly trusting him to eternity. The tears rolled down faster and faster and along with them took my hope, my strength, my life.. I didn't want to live.. but destiny wouldn't let that either, for I had to live for Nishi and little Aarav, the 2 children that stayed with me and became my only reason to be alive.


Maa, had been looking after them, while I wallowed in despair, weak, lost and helpless. I sat lifeless, for hours in the corner, clutching tight on the picture of my complete family, trying to restore, something that had broken beyond repair. My heart craved. My mind stood blocked! I barely knew, when I was awake and when asleep. At night, my eyes refused to close and when they did, I almost always screamed myself out of the doze. The grief of separation competed with the acute pain of, he, not having turned back even once, each often overtaking the other. Lifeless, was my state for, I dont remember how long.

Then, I remember.. a few days (may be months) later, I sat in the corner coldly staring into the abyss. The tears wouldn't show up any more, no matter how much I cried, for lately, they had dried up. Even Maa, had given up on me, after trying everything in her capacity to talk me out of that state. She was beginning to lose hopes, of me ever recovering.. Nishi and Aarav, almost always stayed with Maa. I often heard Nishi asking, "Naani, maa ko kya hua hai?", and Maa would answer, "Maa thodi saad hai beta".

That day, as I sat, with my gaze fixed to a corner and my hands wrapped to my legs, little Nishi, walked up into my arms.. Cupping my face in her little soft hands, in her low, innocent voice, whispered, "Maa, aap itna sad mat ho! Paapa phir se Delhi gaye hain, aajayenge", her eyes filled with belief and hopes... I hugged her tight, unable to betray her naiveness ... and I broke down... my tears were flowing again.. But, this time, it was for the last time!! I looked at her hopeful eyes and only A sense of betrayal stood in all its strength, his betrayal to my kids. I venomously hated him, for heartlessly walking away from my children, for mercilessly crushing their hopes. I was shivering with immense rage and extreme hatred. I stood up, in all determination, to never remember him again!! I wiped off those last tears, and resolved, to start afresh again... To prove him, that I can give my kids the best upbringing, alone, without any help... I started to look for a job.


My life now revolved around my kids and my profession, as the assistant admin of the hospital. I had come to be a stern, loveless woman, who strictly went by the rule book and did/spoke nothing other than her work. The folks at the hospital didn't dare ask me about my past. They saw a rigid, hard-working single mom, boldly fighting against the harshness of life, determined to make ends meet. My heart, now, was nothing more than an organ, utterly devoid of any emotions or feelings. I had wiped out everything, that brought back his memories. I even, detached his name from mine, I was again, "Miss Ragini Patel".

But even then, behind closed doors, in the coldness of the nights,, I often fell weak, unable to put up the fight against my own heart, I gave into his memories and let them engulf me.. I cried, I yearned for him...for my family.. I ached for my kids..


It had been 5 years of this monotonous life. I had barely made a settlement with my heart, to overcome their memories, and look away.. when..


It was a normal day at the office, I was seated in the boardroom, engaged in an important meeting with the senior doctors, when a courier guy walked in with an envelope in his hand.. "Mrs Ragini Khanna", he announced out loud. I was startled, his words, reverberating and echoing from different directions. I almost toppled off my chair, in disbelief of what I had just heard. Luckily, none noticed my reaction and were busy responding to him. "Yahan koi Ragini Khanna nahi hai, sirf yahi ek Ragini hai, but she is Ragini Patel", said Dr Devika to the man, before turning to me and confirming her response. I just nodded indiscreetly, still recovering from the shock, of hearing my own.. long forgotten name. The man, looked around one last time, and seeing no reaction from anyone, walked out.


Tightly shutting my eyes, I told myself, I should not react, I should not run behind him, I know that envelope could not belong to me, I don't know the person it came from, I have forgotten the only one person who absolutely adored and prided in calling me Mrs Ragini Khanna.. I should not leave the meeting... but before my conscious could complete, I was desperately racing down the hallway, trying to catch up to him. Finally, right before the main door, I voiced him to stop. "Woh mujhe do..', I said authoritatively. "Aapko sign karna padega.. aur mere liye strict instructions hai ki, Mrs Ragini Khanna, hee sign kare", I cringed my eyes, hearing the sound of my name again and his unreasonable request. Then, composing myself, said "Lao, mai sign karti hoon". "Yeh aapka nahi hai", he retorted, confused. "Mai Mrs.Ragini Khanna hoon", I said in a softest voice possible, snatching the paper to sign from him. I was no less than shocked myself, at my proclamation. I had just uttered the forbidden name, I had vowed to annihilate. I had painfully broken the vow,, for what?, I knew not.. I signed my old signature "Mrs Ragini Khanna', grabbed the envelope and quickly ran to the cabin to drop it off, before hurrying back to the meeting. But my mind, never made it to the boardroom, as was completely held captive by the letter..


Couple of hours later, when I was able to finally free myself.. I rushed back and picked up the envelope. My cold hands trembled, as I looked closely, at, "Mrs Ragini Khanna", inscribed on it. The curved R, a long-looped "g" and an artistic K... the writer needed no guesses. Subconsciously, I hugged the envelope close to my heart and alternately re-read my name again and again and again...

But why? Why now? after 5 years? Was everything ok? I panicked at that thought and hastily tore open the cover..


Inside, were 4 pages of handwritten papers, in a calligraphy, all so familiar. Even on that day, seeing the writing, that is imprinted so deeply in my heart, sent shivers down my spine and the reminiscence of the love letters we had exchanged, before marriage, flooded back..


Taking in a deep breathe, I started to read..


Ragini,

It makes me immensely happy to know, that you are still Mrs.Ragini Khanna. Ha ha ha, So, you haven't moved on? Thank you for considering yourself Mrs Khanna, my wife!!, even today!


I was enraged, "he thinks I am stuck!". Seething, I growled, "Dare of this man!! What does he want to prove?". I hurled the letter to the corner and darted out...

I did not return until late afternoon when it was time to go home. I had endured the day with great difficulty, for his mockery had ruled in my head. Angrily, I picked up the letter and shoved it into my purse, as another burden to carry, another secret to hide, another uninvited problem to my already disordered life.


Later.. in the quiet darkness of the night, I lay wide awake, unable to fall asleep. I felt a force pulling me towards the letter, as if it possessed a magical power... "Had he written to only taunt me? Taken the pain to find out where I was and send it, to only show off his ego? Was revenge, his only intention? What would he be seeking revenge for?", my mind wouldn't stop. Finally, I got up and approached it, with nothing but the expectation of disappointment..

to be continued.
Edited by imagine43 - 8 years ago

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poetic thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#2
Chaitali, this is stupendous. 👍🏼
Oh my Ragini! I have tears in my eyes now and I so want to know what is in that letter. The way you have described his calligraphy, I can already see the loops and the alphabets and the words.

It's sometimes so difficult to understand the heartbreak that followed the separation. Thanks for making us seer this perspective.

Would request you to continue pl. 😊

BTW, will you also show us Nachiket's halaat as well?
Edited by poetic - 8 years ago
imagine43 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#3

I started to read further,

Being the mother, I know you are - you must be tormented, by the separation from 2 of your beloved children. The tree always suffers an excruciating pain, even when one of its branches is axed, no matter how many it has. The guilt of holding that axe and separating the children from a mother, has been eating me up from inside, ever since.. Hence, though this letter, I meagerly attempt, to bring your children back to you.


Then, there were 2 pages dedicated to Ranbir.. The description of his childhood, extraordinarily vivid! as ever.

Ranbir's prattle, his mind-boggling childish questions, his witty replies to the grown-ups, his inventive reasoning to the things happening around, each one detailed with utmost patience. The best, was his cute interactions with his brother, when they were younger. One day, he had taken his little brother to school and proudly introduced him to his class as his "baby brother".

As I read along, I heartily laughed and constantly smiled, reading each of my son's antics.How had I missed my eldest and how madly, I craved to know, how he was doing. Reading the words, I could see him playing through the paper in front of my eyes.. lightening up my heart beyond possibility. For the first time in years, I felt alive again!! I read the paragraphs multiple times, before proceeding. Then there came a part about, Ranbir's struggle, adjusting without his mom.

Of, all my children, Ranbir was most attached to me. He would always find ways to be around me and we did everything together, including cooking and laundry. He would know instantly if I were upset and always stay by my side, until I was better.

The letter, described his nightmares.. In the beginning, He would almost everyday wake up, in the middle of the night, startled and crying aloud, looking for his mom. After a year, it got slightly better, but even today, he struggled to fall asleep. At bedtime, he still held on to my chunni tightly, that he had sneaked into his toy bag and always kept it on his bed. He would ask his dad, everyday, when mom would come back. On receiving silence or hostile reply every time, Ranbir, went on to promise, he would never ask again, if he got 1 huggie, 1 kissie from her...

I felt dizzy with repentance..helpless to the situation.. with tears blurring my vision. Why, why, why were my kids being punished?? I put the letter aside, while I wiped my incessantly trickling tears.. The innocent eyes of Ranbir, sadly stared at me, his soft hands stretched out... killing me inside out.


After a good hour of wailing and consoling alternately I picked up the letter again.


The next 2 pages were devoted to Aagam and his growing up. He was now 5. I read about his, every little milestone and his little struggles to get there. The time when he started walking, the time when he started talking and his first words. He had started talking much earlier than usual and he spoke non stop. He had a contagious smile that always had people flock around him. He had started school, on the previous day of the writing and had wanted his brother to sit with him the whole day. Ranbir, who was 10 now, absolutely hated, that his younger brother would go to the same school. It had bothered him for weeks, that his friends might tease him about it. But then, being the caring brother he was, he had still gone to be with Aagam, for most of the time, on his first day. Everyone just adored, Aagam. Even the strangest of the strangers were his friends and stopped by to greet him.


Everytime I saw, Aarav, I wondered how Aagam would be growing up, if he would be doing ok, without his mom, for I was witnessing the struggles of Aarav, without his dad. Aagam, being the youngest was the most pampered and had been in my arms almost all the time. As I reminisced their babyhood together and the good times of all of us being together, tears flowed harder.. For I had lost it all..


The last 2 lines, read thus,

I will write to you every year, as I attempt to atone the sinful act of removing the children from their mother. But, only to show you, how well they are doing and how happy they are, even without you!!


Signed -

N Khanna.


I hugged the letter tight, to my heart and wept. I read it again and again and again that night. It gave me a kind of solace, I had not experienced in 5 years. The letter finished with immense rage, the exact reason for which I could not conclude. I sometimes thought, he was talking about himself on the last line and at other times, felt like, it was his brutally hurt ego that was trying to assert, I didnt matter in their life.

Although, my hatred for him did not diminish, an immense feeling of gratitude surfaced every time I held the letter.. I re-read it every night, after that, until it was time to receive the next.


That was my February 16th, 5 years ago. After that, I've waited as desperately and anxiously, every year on this day, as I wait today. Every year, on this day, I am cruelly reminded of being Mrs Ragini Khanna and forced to adorn my forgotten name, And, as much as I detest it, I do it every year, for the mother I am and for those few glimpses of lives of my beloved estranged kids. I hate to admit, but for those few moments when I am called "Mrs Khanna", a strange feeling of content and pride overtakes, forgetting all the miseries. My heart eases out.


The letters, I have received so far, do not carry any return address or contact information of the sender and that, has been my constant excuse to not writing back. Hence, I stand rubbing my cold hands together, trying against all odds to get them to warm up, hoping that, not having replyed, will not make him stop writing. It is about 10 more minutes, for the mailman to arrive and these last few minutes are becoming the hardest..

As I stand staring out of the window with my eyes impatiently searching for that one mail car, a nurse barges in and requests me to join her to resolve an issue with the patient, who is seriously injured and is refusing to get admitted.


I stand talking to the patient, convincing him about the potential life risks, when the mailman entered.. He dropped the letters at the reception and walked away...

I feel, my heart sinking, and all the subdued emotions rising up to my eyes. "Why didnt he ask me to sign? Wasnt there anything for me? Didnt he have the letter? Was it lost? Not sent at all?" My mind took off with every question, bitterly stinging my heart. I want to run behind him to confirm that he didnt miss any, but the patient in front of me needs my attention.


After a while of arguing, we finally get him admitted, much to everyone's relief, but I am far from relieved. I go to the reception, and furiously start rummaging through all the letters and files stacked up. I shuffle through them multiple times, rapidly and slowly, hoping against all odds... I even ask around, only to hear a negative answer.


Terribly disappointed and forlorn, I start walking to my cabin. "Why? Why write all these years, with a promise, build these hopes and then brutally crush them. Why?". I hate him even more than I did before. It is my fault, that I am so intensely attached to his letters and hopelessly wait for them, as if they are my life.. But they are.. I feel helpless, again callously ridiculed by him.. He must be having a good laugh at my state, I think.. Doesn't he realize how important this letter has become for me?, I curse him bitterly..

As I am about to take a step on the stairs, I hear a brisk voice from behind call out, "Mrs Ragini Khanna".. Startled out of my thoughts, with a shudder, I urgently, turn around to witness a mail-man with a white envelope.. In an instant, I feel my life dashing back into my body and my heart beating again. I hear the receptionist telling him there is no "Ragini Khanna" in the hospital. I smile and shake my head.. I want to run and grab it from him, but I slow down. I let the receptionist finish and as the man starts to walk out, I follow him closely, with the smile, that never left me, ever since I saw the envelope...


In the quietness of the night, comfortably contained in the confines of my bedroom, I tear open the envelope. The letter starts with the same 2 lines as before, but now, they dont bother me much, I am used to this beginning. Then follow the stories of Ranbir and Aagam, their school, their activities, the games they played, the paintings they made, the stories they read and the movies they watched. I feel proud reading the accolades, Ranbir had achieved, and the medals Aagam had won for sports and cultural activities. "Ranbir is excellent at debates", is followed by "tumhara beta jo tehra". I paus and instantly react, "Tum kya kam ho?" with a smile.. That disappeared, as quickly as it had appeared, when the reality set in. I miss him at times and my longing for him occasionally surfaces, escaping the weak restraints, I have so laboriously secured..

I proudly smile at the description of the song recitals of Aagam, his dress up days and what he had dressed up as. "Aagam ki girl friend hai, abhisse!!", he writes and I smile murmuring "Jaisa baap vaisa beta" and continue to read, "Ab yeh mat kehna, mujh pe gaya hai".

I heartily laugh.. He still knows how I react..

I frown in despair.


To my surprise, there was one extra line in the conclusion, this time. The last line of the letter, that followed the previous ending, reads thus..


Here is an email address, I can be reached on.. "Mera email rakh lo, in case kabhi kaam aaye"

<email>


Signed -

N Khanna


I have never, in my dreams thought of writing back to him.. Even before, the question, if I had his address, would I write? had crossed my mind, but I had almost always dismissed it as, unreal and impossible. I retire to bed, hugging on to the letter, trying to picture, Ranbir and Aagam in the activities described...and slumber adorns..


That is my February 16th this year.


This is my account of the next few days that followed the 16th:


The next morning, I woke up, with the letter still on me, and my eyes fell on the email address... "Mera, Likhne ka toh sawal hi nahi hai", I told myself as I put the letter away. He also hasn't asked me to.. all he said was "email address rakh lo".. But in-spite of my multiple dismissals of the idea, it kept coming back to me. For the next few days I re-opened and re-argued with myself on this topic, multiple times in the day, always ending with a negative conclusion. But, the thought, always left me agitated..


After many days of contemplation, and numerous failed attempts to quench the unrest I was experiencing, One day, I finally sat down to reply.. 3 words is all I managed to write..


"How are you?"


After much deliberation... I walk away, without clicking "Send"!! And even today, it remains unsent.


The end.


Edited by imagine43 - 8 years ago
poetic thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#4
Sh**
I am teary eyed again.

What a cruel way to be reminded of the loss! Even if its a welcome cruelty for Ragini!!!

I wish Ragini could also write back to him with details of Nishi and Aarav, but didn't he care? Or want to know?

And finally, there was NO mail for her on that fateful day! So sad!

Updating after the 3rd post

This is so heartbreaking !!! 💔

It was nice of him to send the email id, and maybe he needs the details of the other kids as well.

I need time to think now, so much has been lost


Edited by poetic - 8 years ago
loveleen3 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#5
I hope Ragini presses the send button some day.

I don't have the words to tell you much I loved it. Thank you for writing this, Chaitali.
ronitfan thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#6
This was ethereal, Chaitali.
Thank you ever so much for keeping Nachiket and Ragini alive in your own, special way. From the vivid description of his writing, his sign, to her struggles with her emotions and then her decision to be a strong woman for her mother.

So beautiful.

The second part was even better.. the unsaid bond between the both of them and both venturing just a little further. Really hope she sends him something in the third part. Can't wait to read what you have in mind :)

Thank you, dear!
alind713 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#7
Too good .
Waiting for the next part
imagine43 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#8

Originally posted by: loveleen3

I hope Ragini presses the send button some day.

I don't have the words to tell you much I loved it. Thank you for writing this, Chaitali.


I think, it completely depends on the next letter from N.

The idea was to cry with Ragini..
I didnt have the patience to improve it further to get it there. I am glad it still made sense
imagine43 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#9

Originally posted by: ronitfan

This was ethereal, Chaitali.

Thank you ever so much for keeping Nachiket and Ragini alive in your own, special way. From the vivid description of his writing, his sign, to her struggles with her emotions and then her decision to be a strong woman for her mother.

So beautiful.

The second part was even better.. the unsaid bond between the both of them and both venturing just a little further. Really hope she sends him something in the third part. Can't wait to read what you have in mind :)

Thank you, dear!


Thank you Sukhi. I am so glad, YOU liked it. 😃 I hope it was somewhere close to what Ragini would have actually suffered.

I dont know if she should send or not.

There is no 3rd part. THE END -nahi dekha.
imagine43 thumbnail
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Posted: 8 years ago
#10

Originally posted by: alind713

Too good .
Waiting for the next part


Glad it was good enough. Thanks Alind
There is no next part.. That gives me a chance to the other story now 😊
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