Intertwined Fates -- An IPKKND FanFic

Letting Go

Anjali Singh Raizada had lived a hard life. She'd been a victim of polio as a child, resulting in a limp that she carried around all her life. She had no friends because she couldn't trust if people were actually befriending her or her Raizada name, a paranoia instilled in her by her overly cautious father. At the tender age of eighteen, her father fixed her marriage to the son of a business rival.

Although she was reluctant at first, she'd given in and some part of her was actually excited to start a new life as someone's wife. And then on her wedding day, her mother discovered Anjali's father's affair and she shot him and then herself. The wedding was called off, Anjali was labelled a bad omen and within a couple of days, she and her brother were kicked out of their familial home when their uncle took it over.

Yes, Anjali Singh Raizada had seen her fair share of difficulties. But in spite of that, she had an innate sense of kindness.

It was this kindness that led her here, in a taxi in front of Lucknow General Hospital. It had been simple to find out that this was where Garima Gupta now resided, thanks to the help of the new secretary that they'd hired, Aman Chaudhry. He was also her alibi for this visit, having invented a business trip so that Arnav wouldn't be suspicious of her whereabouts.

Anjali wasn't sure why she was here. Could she really forgive Garima? But when she thought of that poor girl, begging for their mercy, she felt like she had to at least try.

And then there was another matter. Anjali hadn't mentioned it to either her grandmother or Arnav. She didn't even let herself think about it too much, but the thought was there, niggling in the back of her mind like a parasitic worm.

What if this girl Khushi was their sister? They'd discovered later that their father's affair with Garima had been ongoing for at least five or six years and that girl was old enough to be produced during that time. Anjali needed to know.

Anjali took a breath to center herself before stepping out of the taxi. She paid the driver distractedly before making her way inside, where she asked the receptionist for Garima's room. She pitied the patients of the hospital as she walked through the dimly lit halls with cracked walls. Perhaps if this new business of theirs worked out, she and Arnav could help improve the conditions of this hospital. After all, Lucknow was their hometown and they had many fond memories here.

Anjali pulled herself out of her thoughts as she reached Garima's room. She knocked but when there was no answer, she pushed the door open and made her way in.

There were four beds in the room, each occupied by a sleeping or perhaps unconscious woman. Only one of the four had a visitor--Khushi, Anjali realized. Khushi was curled up on a chair next to the bed, fast asleep. Anjali moved closer, shifting her gaze to the woman who must be Garima.

Anjali had never met Garima, but she'd heard of the woman's boundless beauty. It must have been so, for nothing short of that would have caught her father's eye. But the woman laying here, with sunken cheeks and aged skin was anything but. Illness had weakened her, stripped her of any youth or life. Her breathing was ragged, coming in puffs out of her dry, cracked lips. Even in sleep, her hands trembled and she let out low moans of pain.

Cancer, Aman had told her.

Anjali didn't know how to feel. This was karma--Garima's comeuppance. Some dark part of Anjali was satisfied that the cruelty and vindictiveness that Garima had displayed was being punished. But another part, the part that made Anjali Anjali, was softening.

From the peripheral, Anjali saw Khushi shift and then heard her hoarsely whisper, "Anjali Ji?"

Without looking at her, Anjali said, "I need to speak to you." She heard Khushi scrambling to get up and follow her out.