Indian Wedding Tales

J A N K I : part III

My feet felt like lead as I leaned against the doorframe and watched a teary eyed Sana being consoled by her father. For the first time in months, the back of my eyes burned.

I hadn't shed a tear once I had stepped into this house because my glands were burned out. There was nothing left in them.

But today as my heart squeezed at the sight in front of me, I felt my eyes stinging. The prickling near my neck was intensifying and my will to run away from all this was increasing by each second.

I was screwing up.

Mr. Singh gently wiped Sana's eyes as he picked her up and hugged her. He then looked at me and nodded.

A nod that meant he had got his daughter. He had got the situation.

A situation that I caused.

Feeling my throat choking up, I moved away and leaned back against the wall. A single drop of tear landed on my left hand as I replayed how Sana's guttural voice spoke her fears. She looked at me with lost eyes and broken dreams.

I wasn't a biological mother, I hadn't given birth to anyone. But spending these few months with Sana had weaved my maternal instincts with my existence so intricately that now nothing mattered except her.

I was determined to be the ocean of affection she would receive and give her the love she deserved.

And it was looking like I was failing at that too.

I felt like I was sinking down like an anchor. No matter how much I tried, I was always moving away from the surface and into the deep dark sea.

The door clicked softly as a shadow appeared before me. I didn't have the courage to look into his disappointed eyes and be reminded how I was being selfish.

I began moving away from the wall and inching towards my own room when I heard Mr. Singh call out my name.

It was barely a whisper, laced with such delicacy that it sounded like a prayer. Goosebumps rose on my arms as I heard my name. When was the last time someone had called my name?

"Janki," Mr. Singh breathed again, stepping towards me. My back instantly stiffed when I felt him inching near to me.

I gulped as I clutched the edge of my kurti in my palms.

Mr. Singh walked right in front of me, forcing me to look up at him with hazy eyes. His face looked so tired that a night's sleep didn't seem enough. The dents on his nose from the spectacles he wore were shining from the light of the lamp above us.

His eyes were dark and lost.

"I know I messed up," I said before he could state the obvious. "I just made a decision without evaluating its consequence. I jeopardized my relation with Sana and I'm..."

"Janki," Mr. Singh interrupted me in between. His eyes held mine captive and I felt as though he was trying his best to form words that wouldn't hurt me.

"You and I, we're both..." Mr. Singh breathed in deeply, "we're both hurting."

He took a wavering breath, his walls crumbling and vulnerability on show.

"I can't thank you enough for agreeing to this marriage and becoming Sana's mother. The way you've accepted her with open arms and looked after her all these months, I'm thankful for it. I feel ...blessed to have you in my life"

Mr. Singh's forehead was forming creases. The ones that make you want to do anything to see them gone. I licked my lips as I waited for him to continue.