#1| IshRa : Meherbaan FF | Thread One - Complete. Moved to Thread Two. - Page 40

C H A P T E R 1 3 J A I S E   M E R A    T U

Chapter Edited by Dhara (@dsgirl)

"They say that time heals everything. But they don't know you and the scars you bring. - Lose My Mind, The Wanted"

Subramanian Reddy was a gentleman. He wasn't suave, rich or flamboyant. He was just another simple Madrasi guy who took pride in his family and life - or once did. He was a common office worker with a fixed monthly wage that wouldn't change for the few years to come. At 35, Subbu was stable in his career. He had a beautiful wife, a healthy son. He was considered to have the perfect family. But he didn't. He didn't have her - he didn't have her to hug him as he woke up every day, he wasn't awakened by her smile, he couldn't steal glances at her, it's wasn't their child that she giggled with, it wasn't him she kissed goodbye every morning, it wasn't her he came home to every day. It wasn't Ishita.

He missed those days where he woke up to smiles, giggles and his girl. Ishita had made it her weekly ritual to be his alarm' clock every Sunday. She would peck him on his cheek. He would sleep or feign deep slumber only to watch her giggle in her attempts to wake up, every weekend. She would whisper in his ears as she pick him on his cheek, and with every failure to wake up, she would place yet another until he occasionally pulled her over and she would give him a morning kiss'. Those were the days, where he woke up to a grinning Ishita as she stood in his room - her hair left open, as she scrunched her face and waited him to wake up. He had loved waking up to her. Every Saturday night had ended with him with his cheek placed on his mother's shoulder as he hugged her, whilst asking about Ishita's whereabouts for the next day. On whether or not she would pay them a visit. And every Saturday had with his mother smiling as she fondly patted his cheek.

Subbu's life had revolved around Ishita. Being sevens older to her, he had taken responsibility for anything and everything that concerned her. He remembered preparing for his boards twice - once when he answered them, the other when he had decided to help her study for them. He had helped her choose her high school, college, university and even locations for occasions she intended to spend with her friends. He had stood by her as she answered each of those atrocious entrance exams. He held her when she cried. He fought her wars and she fought his. If he had revived her, she had rescued her from the overbearing expectations forced on him by his parents. She was his breath of fresh air and they were engaged - she would be his to keep, for ever.

Oh, how many days had they spent fantasing about their future. From the perfect location, to the perfect color. The perfect interior to the number of bedrooms.

Ishita had been twenty and he twenty seven when she had called him over and over. That was the day he received his first major promotion. It had only been officially confirmed when she had called over and over again. He had feigned ignorance, too scared and overwhelmed by the sudden development. It was then had she barged into his office and stood infont of his cubicle. She had glared at him as she flung her knapsack on his desk.

"Subramanian Reddy, why the hell are you ignoring your fiance? Who the heck would ever take someone as adorable as me for granted. Do that again and you will severely regret it. There, I warned you." She had exclaimed before she had squealed over finding the perfect apartment for the both of them. She had then walked over his Manager's office and whipped a tale of being the poor fiance of the residential workaholic Subramanian Reddy. His boss had just smiled at her and minutes later she had picked his bag along with hers and ushered him to the door. And in that moment everything had felt real. It had been his seventh heaven.

The apartment didn't matter to Subbu. Nor did the color. Or the location. Not even the price. All that mattered was the look on Ishita's face as they entered the elevator that lead them to their to be home. The excitement that bubbled through her as she held his hand - as she moved to her own beat, the music in her flowing through her hands and, through them, passing to him. It was the content look and selfless grin that she had given him. It was the tapping of her feet as she waited forth doors to open. It was the hyperactive side of her as she punched in the security code.

She had linked her arms to his, leaned her head on his should as they entered the apartment. And they had stood there, in the center of their to be home, with her in his arms as she spoke about everything change she intended to bring to the apartment. He had just closed his eyes and relished the moment - never knowing it would be the last of the few to come.

Subbu would never know what came over him in the moment the doctor revealed Ishita's condition to him. In a matter of seconds he had felt his future crash down like a house of cards. It wasn't the anger that he had felt, it wasn't pity, it wasn't hope -  it was despair. How would he face her, when he wasn't sure of his own. He was just human, he too desired to have kids of his. He too desired his own kin. He too longed for the day he would hold a kid in his arm. It was that night as he held Ishita's hands in his own, whilst earnestly praying for her health had he realised that it didn't matter. It wouldn't matter. Nothing would. It had always been Ishita, since the day he first saw her. The world hadn't mattered, it never did. He had to be strong for Ishita. He wouldn't let her go through this alone, he would stand by her.

He had kissed her fists and left to grab himself a well deserved cup of coffee - the last thing he needed to be was a racoon eyed sleepy deprived mess. It was then that his parents had confronted him. His mother had flipped in rage when she heard about his decision and in that fit had she revealed that his father had been diagnosed with cancer - a fact well hidden from his elder Bala and him.

Minutes later as he ran his hands through his already messy hair had his father arrived.

"You can marry Ishita, son," he had said. "As long as you give me my grandson to hold. My biological grandson. That's all I wish in life now."

If it was to be asked now, Subbu hadn't known what presided over him. Or when the prodigal son has turned to be the dutiful son. As if a clockwork man, he had paid heed to his mother as she assured him that everything would get over in a year, that she had found a girl - Nalini. His mother promised him that she would explain everything to Ishita. That Ishita would wait for him. That everything would be okay. That he was doing the right thing.

He had been barely twenty seven when he felt his world crash all over again.

He was twenty seven when he lost her.

It was the night she looked at him, as if he was a stranger, had he felt them snap. It was the night that she kissed him on his cheek had he felt that it was the last one.

A week into his marriage had he realise that he wanted nothing to do with his new wife. It was after his first visit to the solicitor on a request for an annulment had he walked in on his elder brother in an argument with his parents - Ishita had walked away, she had packed up and left and not even Bala knew where she was. Bala and Vandita had walked out on their parents - Vandita had openly called his mother a "cruel hearted bitch who didn't mind toying with her own sons' life and emotions in order to get what she wanted".

And like that Subbu was left behind with an unwanted wife, a terminally ill father and a vicious mother as his life and desires took the back seat.

'Can I start again with my faith shaken?

Because can't do back and undo this.

I just have to stay and face my mistakes.

But if I get stronger and wiser, I'll get through this.'