Prithvi...(Vol. 6)

Chapter 144

Eyes narrowed in concentration, Nandini scrupulously studied every line of the training manual she had drafted based on the information provided by her seniors. 

Her nose scrunched up in irritation when she found mistakes. Since Monday morning, she had spotted several cringe-inducing mistakes in her work while proofreading. So she had started to come to work earlier than usual to devote more time for writing as well as reviewing the documents before sending them to the main office.

In the evening, Nandini continued to work for an hour after the others had left. Then she shut down the computer, pushed back the monitor and keyboard on the table, and leaned forward wearily to rest her face on her crossed arms.

She had not been pulled up yet for any errors, but if she continued to be so distracted, she would be taken to task soon.

And if and when that happened, she would have to find a better excuse than the truth that she was struggling to live a normal life at present...because she'd had somehow been split into many different selves on the inside. And those multiple versions of her were taking turns to drive her insane.

There was a Nandini who was sickened by the cruelty and foolishness she'd displayed that afternoon. She shivered to think that he could easily have assumed that she wanted to reconcile with him. The virulent hate and repulsion she'd seen on his face later were proof that he considered it to be a huge lapse in judgement, and she was certain that he would still be castigating himself for...responding to her briefly. But what if - what if he had reacted differently. What would she have done then...

There was a Nandini who felt only gratitude for having gained more priceless moments to treasure for the rest of her life, and who smiled often to herself without knowing why...

A Nandini who focussed her energies on recalling every horrible thing he'd said and done in order to feed her anger and forget her pain momentarily at least, and who felt fury and contempt towards herself for having broken down like a weakling in front of him and clung to him pathetically in spite of the disgusting, sadistic things he'd said earlier.

A Nandini who was still blissfully immersed in those exquisite moments, when his arms had been around her, crushing her to him, and ravishing her lips...and she had held him tighter, pushed by painful desires, as undulating waves of pleasure flowed through her nerves...

A Nandini who had begun to spend more time in front of the mirror, trying to view herself through the eyes of an onlooker, and who had started purchasing beautiful silver-coloured jewellery from tiny roadside shops - dangling earrings, beautiful, delicate necklaces, thin and chunky bangles, and packets of pretty bindis, and was also eager to buy prettier dresses...

A Nandini who remained awake late into the night, feeling a mysterious heaviness and ache in the pit of her stomach and being intensely aware of her body. 

And the dreams were making it so much worse...

Nandini sat back in the chair with a hot face, heart thudding.

Then a deep despair swept through her.

This was the Nandini who was bearing the brunt. She was the most wretched of the lot...being hauled forcefully in one direction and then the other every other minute. She was acutely aware of the disparate versions existing simultaneously within her, but felt helpless at dealing with the emotions being experienced by each of them.

Sometimes, she wasn't any of those Nandinis...and sometimes, she was all of them.

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Sankatmochan scuttled past a few rooms, and then jumped into one and locked the door. Panting, he quickly took out his phone and started to call up a number. But just as his index finger was about to tap on a name, he paused unsurely.