Aashiqui - A Love Story.

.VIII.

Present, 2024.

Pembroke Castle, UK.

"Abir Rajvansh!" Amisha looks around and finds an angry woman, storming inside the hall. Like a red and fiesty bull. She wants to ask what's wrong with her, but Amisha decides not to, once she sees the rage build up in the woman. Suddenly, the kid is reminded of few days before, when this woman was talking to her Bir uncle. She furrows her eyebrows, and bravely walks towards the fuming lady.
"Who are you?" Hearing her voice, Jiya swiftly turns startling herself and the kid.

Her anger turns into something else. Pain, sadness and exhaustion. The switch in her emotions is noticed by the little one, as she walks forward and holds the elder's hand. Directing her towards the couch, she places a soft cushion on her lap and settles infront of Jiya.
"Are you angry?" The stutter in her voice makes Jiya smile, fondly.
"Yeah." She sighs and looks down.
"Then close your eyes." Jiya looks up and finds the kid already staring at her.

"Why?" Amisha decides to guide the woman now.
"Chachu taught me, that whenever I am angry or sad, I should close my eyes and count till 10, remembering Momma and Papa's face, because I love them." Jiya widens her eyes listening to her.
"Does it work?" She whispers silently, ashamed of learning anger management from a 6 year old child.
"No." She looks at Amisha and lets out a giggle as the girl chortles too.

"But it makes me happy." Amisha shrugs, smiling a little.
"Alright. I'll give it a try then." Jiya says and really, closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. She starts to count till 10, remembering Harry's face as a smile takes over her lips. Amisha follows her and grins.
"Now you can open your eyes." Jiya holds her hand and pats the kid's head.
"What happened?" Jiya sighs.
"Your chachu lied to me. And I was angry. Guess you saved your uncle today." Amisha laughs.

"He makes me angry too. But I forgive him because he gets me strawberries and colouring books." The kid rattles on.
"You like strawberries too?" She asks.
"Yes! Bir uncle always says that I am like Mishti aunty. I've never seen her here. But he always takes her name." Amisha lets out the information and the smile vanishes from Jiya's face. The woman's name sends shivers through her body. And all the lingering questions on her tongue makes her brain buzz.

"Where's Mr.Raj- Abir?" She tries to frame a proper question as Amisha looks around.
"He must be in his study." As soon as she lets out that sentence, Jiya gets up, ready to receive all her answers. Unknown to her, she has already made the little girl curious too.
"I'll guide you?" Amisha offers. Jiya turns around, realising that she just had a conversation with a little kid.
"It's okay Amisha. I know the way." Jiya smiles tightly and pats her head.
"Ami- wait Jiya! What-"

"Chachu! She wants to meet you." Amisha explains, being excited to see her uncle finally.
"Yeah, I do. And it's important. Can we step out?" Jiya questions sharply that kills the kid's enthusiasm. Amisha slumps her shoulder down and looks at the adults, being completely clueless.
"Sure. Misha baby, stay in and call your mom. Tell her that I'll not be available for the rest of the day." Abir directs his niece, smiling when she nods and agrees retrieving to do whatever she was told.

As soon as they reach the backyard, Jiya glares at him and throws the letter that she had tucked in her jeans pocket. Abir frowns yet leans down to grab the piece of paper. And when his eyes meet the owner's signature, his features pale and he shoots his eyes at the blazing ones.
"Care to explain Mr.Rajvansh?" Her icy cold tone, doesn't help but intensifies Abir's anxiety.
"I would have told but-"
"You know, all my life I've lived with liars and people who wanted to use me. It's not a surprise that my parents did too. You can be open." Her remark makes Abir widen his eyes.

"What do you mean were? Your fath-"
"He died. Yesterday."

Abir stills, not knowing how to react.

2018

St.Claret's Hospital, UK.

"Mishti, can you open your eyes for me, dear?" The bright white of the hospital ceiling made her squint her eyes before slightly pushing them open. It was a hard task, when all she wanted was to close them because they felt heavy, to lift them for a second too. What amazed her was that she was still alive. With the unbearable pounding in her head, and the sting on her limbs, she wanted to collapse into the abyss of darkness again. But she wanted to know what had happened.

"I am Brian. And this is Akshara, your friend. Can you recognise her, dear?" The dude in white coat questioned her as Mishti got annoyed at his concerned and pity tone.
"Ofcourse Doc. I was hit on my lower region I suppose. My brain's doing fine." She let out hoarsely, as the doctor chuckled and pulled her seat upright, so that she could face others who were present in the room. That covered three of them. The two doctors and a nurse.

Their voices faded out as Mishti finally noticed her condition. Her entire lower body wasn't moving, and it felt heavy. Heavier than a ton. Neither she could move nor sense her legs. The worst part was, she couldn't feel pain or any sort of reaction when she tried to pinch her thighs. It was as if the part below her stomach had gone numb. That's when reality hit her, and she started to pay attention to the doctor's words.

"I'm very sorry to inform you. But, we didn't know how to prepare you for this. You've taken a severe blow on your back region because your reflex was to save your face and your upper body. And due to this sudden impact, you're disability is caused. Because of the damage on the major part of your spinal cord, which supports the nerves that connects your legs and back, together. We call it paraplagia, in medical terms." He finished talking and looked at her.
"Continue." Was all Mishti replied.

"He means that, you cannot function like before. You're semi paralysed. And-" Akshara hesitated, before dropping the bomb.
"Currently it is incurable." That's it. Mishti froze and didn't want to hear to any other information. She dismissed them, as politely possible, and looked afar from her room window. She didn't let out a single tear, or did she shiver. The doctors had told her that her legs would not react anymore, that she probably had to spend her remaining life on a wheelchair.

But in that moment, another important organ of hers, that was nestled between her lungs, was paralysed too.

Her heart.

2019

St.Claret's hospital, UK.

"I know you can hear me. Stop pretending." Akshara mumbled as Mishti opened her eyes and sighed.
"You're seriously a serious doctor. Wonder how your husband and patients put up with you." She grumbled as her friend, whilst smiling helped her sit upright.
"They do it well. The problem is you, Ms.Maheshwari." Mishti annoyingly looked at her bestfriend.
"Ofcourse it's never others." She breathed out.
"You're up just now and you're already irritated? Is that somehow your go to mood?" Abir stepped in.

"Here comes in another favourite human of mine." Mishti smiled tightly and winced when Akshara took out the IV needle from the back of her palm.
"What? Thought you were tough and got used to it?" Akshara said, amusement laced in her voice.
"Aren't you too insensitive doctor? This is how you treat your long term patient?" Mishti fake gasped.
"I'm sorry who are you?" Upon her bestfriend's remark, Mishti rolled her eyes and looked at the new visitor.

"Thought it'd just be Brian and you. Good that the number increased." Mishti sarcastically noted out.
"Yes indeed. Your mother, mine, me, and your cousin." Abir said the last word in such a low tone, that Mishti would have missed it if not she hadn't payed attention. But how could she divert her eyes, when she saw him? And that too after being at the brink of death. She wanted to let him know that he could quit being guilty and that it wasn't his mistake. But the last word he uttered, made her anger resurface.

"Unwanted people." She scoffed.
"And, she wanted to let you know, that she'd like to have a conversation with you." That really messed up her peaking rage, as she coldly stared ahead.
"Akshara, when did you say the Oscars was?" She questioned.
"The coming week." Akshara answered, heavily confused.

"We'll have a talk there, Abir. As you and my 'cousin' wish." Mishti smirked.

To be continued