Guilt

Maybe this is wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, but if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right. ~ Back to December

Pratap was working late in his office when Shakti knocked. He eyed the watch briefly to see it was well past nine when Shakti peeped in. 

“I’m going home, so I wondered…”

“ I’m in the middle of something. Why are you still here?” Pratap rebuked him. “Heer would be waiting for you. It’s not good to make her wait now.”

“She is at her mother’s place.” Shakti smiled a little faintly at his worry as Pratap nodded and looked away. 

“Umm…” Shakti stood at the door as Pratap went back to work and stopped typing.

“Is there anything else?” Pratap enquired.

“Maasa was… umm… in Udaipur with Ranima yesterday.” Shakti eyed his brother, sighing with a nod. “It was not wise to leave Heer alone, more so for you.”

“Chote Papa was here.” Shakti shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “He did not go.” Pratap looked up at him. 

“Why?” He asked as Shakti shrugged. Pratap knew why Shakti was here. He wanted Pratap to talk to him. But what could he say?

“Is it true you are going to Udaipur for the expansion?” Shakti asked. “I heard you convinced Maldeo of the project alliance.” Pratap nodded briefly.

“He is smart enough to know it helps his business too.” Pratap shrugged. “And technically you should be the one heading the project expansion, but since Ranima wants you in Delhi around Heer and she can’t travel or settle there soon… so, maybe I should.” He offered, rubbing his stubble a little thoughtfully. “I haven’t spoken to Dad yet.”

“You can meet Amar more frequently that way,” Shakti said as he observed Pratap smile a little at his words. He knew it would be awkward for Pratap to shift to Udaipur alone, especially when meeting Amar frequently implied meeting Ajabdeh or even Jalal. But he needed to do that. He needed to mend the bridges he had broken. Shakti would not be sympathetic about it.

Ram Rakh Punwar had kept himself away from the matters of the Punwar Sisodiya group for the past seven years. He attended board meetings because his name was on it, but did not give any opinions or make decisions for the business. It was a self-imposed punishment he had given himself for not raising his daughter right. Seeing Heer being part of the business and the Sisodiya household so peacefully gave Ram even more heartache, knowing that if his firstborn did the same, he would not face such humiliations. They never talked of her since the day she left. He was the one who found her letter, and if you asked how he felt, it would be tough to put into words. Worry culminated in anger and regret, knowing he had been directly responsible for her decision. Perhaps if he had not told her to leave her position as CEO and not told her she would be secluded at Sarangpura, she would still be home. Unhappy, humiliated, but home. His wife’s laments and Heer’s tears made him swear that Ajabdeh was selfish, and he never wanted to see her face again. She did not care for the family, their name, reputation and her parents. When Udai tried to put forward the alliance with Phool, and Pratap initially rejected it, a hope in him had flickered. Perhaps he knew where his daughter was. Perhaps he was lying like before. But the day Pratap agreed to the wedding, after a successful alliance meeting with the Rathores, he knew he had also moved on. Then why was it that everyone was living their lives, and he was stuck with a strange sense of emptiness and guilt about the night Ajabdeh talked to him last?

Hansa always wanted the Europe trip he had surprised her with for the anniversary. It was finally time, when the grey clouds were disappearing into the sunshine. With Heer’s pregnancy, Udai was less cold with him. The families celebrated together, and Pratap’s engagement to Phool established a harsh truth. There was no place for an entity called Ajabdeh Punwar anymore. Her presence was replaceable in every aspect of their lives. Only the room his wife kept locked and refused to renovate in the house annoyed him. She was not coming back. Ram Rakh often avoided the balcony because it meant walking past the closed door of that haunting room. He had subtly suggested renovations to his wife more than once. But she had firmly refused. Perhaps when Heer had her child, she would allow her to turn the room into a nursery. He had not visited Sarangpura for years. It had too many happy memories. A couple of times, Hansa accompanied Heer to take care of the property. Last he heard, Heer and Shakti wanted to renovate the Punwar house. He often wondered who took care of the library. Whenever he walked past it, the door was locked, but he had never dared to ask Pratap about it. They barely talked business.

The day they came back from the trip and visited Heer with the intention of asking the Sisodiyas if they could bring her home, the Sisodiyas had just arrived back in Delhi from Sarangpura. Jaivanta was talking to a contractor about some renovations to one of the guest rooms when Hansa enquired what it was about. Ram had thought it must be for the nursery, but never in his life could he have imagined what he heard. Hansa gasped, appeared confused and asked silly questions like “How could she not tell us?” but Ram Rakh was oddly quiet when Udai described their grandchild. She did not reach out to anyone in the family. The distances were so great that they could not be breached. She did not want them in her child’s life. Not even the child’s father. Was that her way of punishing them all? Unlike Udai’s first thoughts, Ram tried very hard to imagine Ajabdeh explicitly planning a big manipulation game like this and failed miserably. All he could feel was how helpless she was, and he had abandoned the daughter he was supposed to protect. How could he face her? How could he face the child? Hansa seemed to either be oblivious to such feelings or her motherhood made her blind enough to believe that sorry was enough to mend everything. He did not stop her from going to see her grandchild, but deep inside, Ram knew she would come back with more regret than love in her heart. He was right. She complained of her daughter’s underachieving job, a decent apartment, how Rukaiya flourished with the company and a family and Amar, who was uncomfortable and confused by her. Hansa left out her conversation with Ajabdeh, but Ram Rakh knew what she could have heard. He advised her to concentrate on Heer’s health and welfare, but somehow could not sleep the next few nights. The smiling picture of the child in Udai’s lap, a replica of his father’s looks and his mother’s smile, haunted him. He wondered how Ajabdeh was doing. How different she looked. Hansa was telling Heer how motherlike her demeanour was when he had overheard them. Ram Rakh slipped out of bed that night and watched some of the home videos of his children, smiling to himself till dawn. He did not remember what Ajabdeh used to sound like when she was happy. Her disappointed face and trembling voice were all he could remember. Nobody understood why he said he did not want to meet them. They imagined it was his ego. He let them.

The morning tea was served on the lawn when Ram Rakh had finished his walk and sat down to wipe some sweat off his forehead, when Pratap appeared before him. He was ready for the day in his light blue shirt and black trousers, his tie loosened around his neck as he folded his sleeves and walked up to Ram Rakh. He straightened himself, expecting it to be a conversation about Amar’s financial shares, as Udai had told him.

“Good morning, Chote Papa.” He made Ram Rakh nod as he offered tea, and Pratap refused. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about…” he cleared his throat as he sat on the lawn chair opposite him. Ram Rakh nodded.

“ I… the company was planning an expansion to Udaipur last year…”

“Yes, I am aware.” Ram Rakh nodded. “You wanted Shakti to head the expansion and Heer for the clothing line?” Pratap nodded.

“Yes, but I am afraid that with the business expansion on hold and a baby on the way, they would not be able to shift base.” Pratap shook his head as Ram Rakh agreed. “Then who will you hire for it?” He asked. “If you wanted recommendations…”

“Actually.” Pratap exhaled. “Ranima wanted… the Udaipur expansion to be part of Amar’s share in the business.” Ram Rakh watched him take the name of the child so easily and with such ownership, as if he had known him for ages. Pratap looked away briefly, then at his grim face. “But his mother wants nothing to do with our business.” Ram Rakh sighed as he shifted uneasily in his chair. Pratap could see it in his face that he was the last person Ram Rakh expected a conversation about Ajabdeh from. If Ranima’s concerns and Shakti’s information were to be believed, Ram was avoiding the conversation with Hansa and Heer since they came to know of it. He was reluctant to see Amar’s pictures.

“Oh, I see.” His words were devoid of any emotions or opinions.

“I was wondering if you could …” Pratap cleared his throat.

“I have retired.” His words were firm. “Besides, it's a new city.”

“I am aware, but your daughter is there, and you can meet Amar more frequently if you…” Pratap stopped for Ram Rakh, who had stood up from his chair. He could see the man trembling a little. 

“I told you I am retired. I am very happy staying at my place and having a small circle of people. I don’t want to see anyone.” His words were firm as he chose to look away from Pratap, and his lips quivered. He turned to leave as Pratap stood up.

“Your anger should be redirected to those who drove her away rather than her for keeping Amar away.” Ram Rakh stopped at his words as he shut his eyes to compose himself.

“I am not angry.” He protested feebly. Pratap walked up behind him. “Then what keeps you away from meeting your grandson? Does Amar not need to know you? Or will you punish him for something he did not do?” Ram Rakh was a little taken aback at the ease with which Pratap owned up to the situation and supported Ajabdeh’s stance. He had expected Pratap to be bitter about his daughter’s choices. Pratap could perhaps read his mind when he looked up in disbelief as a slight smile formed at the edge of his lips.

“Chote Papa, if not anyone else, Amar and Heer’s children deserve to live in a world where they grow up in a united, happy family, the way we had. One where they feel safe, secure and loved. Children tend to understand if you don’t like…” Pratap was alarmed as he heard Ram Rakh sniff. He had never seen the man cry. Not when his mother passed or when Ajabdeh left. A teardrop shone on his wrinkled cheek as he tried hard to control himself.

“You think I feel angry?” He shook his head. “You have no idea.”

“Is it guilt then?” Pratap placed his hand gently on Ram Rakh’s frail shoulder. “I know a bit about that.” He said softly.

“How could I…” Ram Rakh shook his head. “Leave her alone? How could I… tell her to leave?” Pratap’s brows narrowed as he looked up at his words.

“What do you mean you told her to leave?” Pratap asked with raised brows, the shock unmissed on his face as Ram Rakh sniffed and looked away. 

“How do you apologise for something like that?” he asked as Pratap exhaled.

“You never told any of us that you told her to leave. We thought she…” Pratap stopped. There was no point in going over this. The ifs, buts and maybes were too many, and all of them were responsible for that. 

“You don’t apologise in words, Chote Papa.” He remembered his mother’s words. “You do so in action. Because, for whatever happened, words are not enough.” He watched the old man nod and agree as he composed himself.

“Forgive yourself first. Otherwise, you won’t be able to face Amar. He is…” Pratap smiled at the thought of Amar’s antics. “Innocent.” Ram Rakh looked up at him again.

“I heard that… umm… Miss Rathore called off the…” Ram Rakh was awkward about bringing it up. Pratap looked indifferent as he nodded.

“Actually, I did. I let her say whatever she wanted to the press.” He watched Ram Rakh stare at him with hope. A hope he did not want to promise anyone, not even himself. “For Amar,” he added. Ram Rakh nodded.

“Are you going to… fight for custody?” He asked, a little scared. Pratap shook his head. “I have only known him for two and a half days; right now, I am going to prioritise being a part of his life before everything else. His mother wants him to be raised a certain way, and she has the right to decide that.” Ram Rakh realised that in the entire conversation, they had yet to say her name.

“Are you going to Udaipur?” He asked, hopefully. Pratap nodded.

“If nobody else wants to… Shakti thinks it will be good for my bond with Amar. I can be there…” He stopped and cleared his throat.

“If you want, you can come along and meet him, Chote Papa. Staying away because of your guilt will make it worse.” Ram nodded as Pratap was about to leave.

“Do you have her number?” He asked as Pratap looked hopefully at him. “Ajabdeh’s?” Ram Rakh’s heart sank as he said her name for the first time in years.

“I do.” Pratap nodded. “I will send you.”

“I want to speak on the phone first.” He gathered. He watched Pratap search the number saved as Amar on his speed dial and ask, “Do you want to talk now?” Ram Rakh looked reluctant.

“It's early in the morning on a weekday…” He sounded unsure. “I should wait… he perhaps has school…” He watched Pratap dial the number and wait for it to ring on the speaker. Ram Rakh looked a little flushed as his heart raced with every ring. 

Ajabdeh was waving at Amar, who got into his school bus when the phone rang. She watched the bus leave and stared at the phone blinking with “Amar’s Papa”. A frown appeared on her face as she eyed the clock, which read 7.45 AM. What did he want to ruin her mood with so early in the morning?

“Hello?” She answered reluctantly after contemplating the idea of letting it ring out. But perhaps it was someone else on the other side, or he wanted to know if he could take Amar somewhere. “Hello?” She frowned at the lack of sound on the other end.

“Beta.” Ram Rakh uttered the words unsurely as Pratap nodded at him, handing him the phone and stepping back a few feet away. He watched the man sink back into the chair and place his phone on the table, still on the loudspeaker. “Ajab?” Pratap inhaled, gulping as he watched the old man smile.

“Ji?” He could sense her voice tremble. Even if her father did not.

“How are you, Beta?” 

Ajabdeh shut the door of her apartment as fast as she could and bolted it before she breathed in. 

“I… am fine.” She tried hard not to fumble her words.

“I… am not well, Beta.” Ram Rakh confessed. Ajabdeh’s vision blurred as she wiped the tears off her cheek.

“Are you sick?” She tried to sound normal.

“Maybe.” Ram let out a sigh. “I don’t know.” He looked up at Pratap, who pressed his lips and nodded at him reassuringly.

“Will it be okay if I want to see you?” He asked. There was a long pause on the other end. Ajabdeh inhaled. Jaivanta and Hansa had both met her with the hope of meeting Amar. Nobody asked to see her for her. Ajabdeh was suddenly vulnerable and unsure of herself. What if he asked her to go home? She could not. She could not even refuse him.

“Beta, are you there?”

“Yes.” Ajabdeh nodded. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Ram Rakh was reassured. “I will meet… err…” He could not remember the child’s name in his overwhelming flood of emotions.

“Amar.” Pratap and Ajabdeh said in unison and stopped, alarmed at each other’s voices. 

“Yes, Amar… I will meet Amar when he comes around.” Ram Rakh reassured her. “I should not have asked.” He wiped his tears and sniffed. Ajabdeh was alarmed by the sniff. She had never seen her father cry.

“I will see what I can do.” She said truthfully. “I… have a job and … the holidays are scarce…” She stopped because, although she spoke the truth, it sounded like an excuse. 

“I understand.” Ram Rakh agreed with disappointment. 

“Can I have your number? I will call you when I can meet.” Ajabdeh offered as Ram Rakh looked up at Pratap, hopefully, who smiled faintly.

“Of course, Beta. I…” He did not remember his number. 

“It’s okay. I will text her your number, and she will call you.” Pratap reassured him as Ajabdeh heard so on the phone.

“I… have to go.” She said as she wiped her tears.

“Okay, Beta.” Ram Rakh sighed. 

“Bye, Papa.” The call was disconnected, and Ram Rakh suddenly felt overwhelmed by her voice, calling him Papa after so long.

“I could not even say sorry.” He sounded alarmed as Pratap picked the phone up. 

“You will have plenty of time to say so,” Pratap reassured. “Let me send her your number, and you can start by letting her know when Heer is in the hospital?” Ram Rakh nodded at his words.

As Ajabdeh was heading out of the house, her phone pinged, and it was a contact named “Chote Papa” sent by “Amar’s Papa”. She saved the number and edited it to Papa. Then she stared at the chat for a while, contemplating.

“Thank you.” Pratap’s phone beeped with her message as he read it from the notification bar. “For the phone call.” She added. Pratap smiled at the message. 

“I did it for Amar.” Ajabdeh sighed at the answer that she kept seeing as she headed to catch the morning bus to her office. It was going to be a long day.