11| Eleven

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"Maybe she's damaged, but, all she needs is to be loved a little different, reassured a little more."

***

The future had always been unseen. Nobody ever did know what was to be an event of the future, be it near or distant, nor ever did anybody, not anticipate what to happen. It had always been a mystery to some or an unforeseen adventure to the other. It was, however, always eagerly waited for. Tushar Chatterjee never had thought, his days would become so dark, that light would forget its path to his soul, nor did he ever foretell his heart would break and lost its known traces of existence. Tushar never noticed, he would be in such a state of mind, where nothing would ever right.

It was a cruel surprise to him when God took the biggest present of his life, his dear mother, in return for giving any gift which he never bestowed. God was harsh to him for making his days worth shedding tears for. He never thought, he would come across a day when his life would be in a merciless circumstance, wherein any calamity seemed to give a chance to survive. This was unbearable for him.

Days before, Naitee had called for them, not only him but for her beloved sister, her little wish was to hear their voice and soothe her pain. Her sister, Nandini, however, stood not much different than a tree, breathing, but never moving. Tushar wished for his uncertain voice to not be noticed by his wife, the fear in him refusing to ever let go until he had heard her words. Nandini asked him to talk to her, for he would be enough for Naitee, and unless he saw her rush away from him, he didn't realise Nandini knew naught. He had thought, for the next few fearful minutes, that he was to be blamed, and that Nandini knew his reasons. However, soon, he came to a late realisation that it was just her cold facade and nothing else that talked for her dishevelled sanity.

There could have been no way, his wife would get to know the real reasons.

The day after that unnerving meet of them, Tushar had to start working. His leave of seven days had been over and very thankfully, he got to be out of that stifling ambience that shrouded his house since the wedding. Although he felt unmindful during the period he was at his employment, he felt much better than he felt at his own home. That day, he got invited for a mini gathering his colleagues and friends arranged for him as his wedding surprise, Tushar couldn't help himself but feel remorseful for not inviting them, after all, it was a marriage of no choice. He, therefore, shameful and regret rushing to his mind, had to ask for their presence on the first of September for a little reception, more preferably a gathering where he would introduce them to his wife.

Returning home, that day had been a bit troubled as his mind kept making outlines of the possible happenings of the evening or the day of the reception. Ashamed for not having asked Nandini about anything, he made numerous distant scenes in his mind where he would be asking Nandini about her cooperation. He couldn't ask for more, than he already did, without her knowledge. Anxious he had been feeling, yet he forgot to remember, how little to naught he knew about the future, for they say the future had been forever anonymous.

That day, he, when had entered his living area, found his dainty, little wife passed out on the couch, or sleeping he couldn't infer. Rushing towards her had been the only primary action he could muster his tired limbs up to. At that voiceless moment, not one fraction he cared for the sweat cloaking his body, not the exhaustion crawling over him. He cared for no other being than to see for himself if Nandini was surviving under his roof. He, when inclined his head nearer to her, found the paths, her tears had sketched onto her cheeks, wet with them, her pale face appeared soft and pained. Tushar had known, it was her anguish that weakened her to that little, frail self, and the ignorant somebody she had come to become. 

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