Siren of Hearts

47. Grateful

Siddharth, holding a bouquet of white flowers, walked towards the memorial of Senior Soldier, the one who had sacrificed his life to save Siddharth. Ishita accompanied him, providing silent support. As they approached, they saw the tombstone surrounded by others, bearing the inscription 'Saheed Varun K. Patel, Battalion - S34'. Siddharth and Ishita stood in front of it, witnessing the solemnity of the moment. Two additional bouquets were already placed there, indicating that Varun Patel's wife and son had visited earlier.

With reverence, Siddharth laid the white flowers on the cemetery ground and offered a respectful salute. He sighed, expressing his inner thoughts, "Help me have the courage to face your son, Patel bhai. This time, I won't run away." After the tribute, they walked through the narrow streets of the village until they reached the end, where Varun Patel's family resided.

Approaching the house, they noticed a mini-truck being loaded with tomatoes. The driver handed some money to a woman in a black gown. The woman, presumably Varun Patel's wife, caught sight of Siddharth and Ishita. Preparing himself mentally, Siddharth took a deep breath and walked up to her. 

Siddharth and Ishita approached Varun's wife, who greeted them with a faint smile. She remarked, "You're late this time." Siddharth, surprised, looked at her wide-eyed. She chuckled, lightening the moment, "You thought I never noticed? You would come to this village on today's date, give flower tribute at the memorial. How did you know he used to like white flowers?"

Siddharth relaxed a bit as she continued, "He had said... you liked white flowers, and it became his favorite as well." 

Varun's wife then turned her gaze towards Ishita and inquired, "And this young lady?" 

Siddharth proudly replied, "My wife?" Varun's wife smiled at Ishita, her expression uncertain, "Are you Ishita?" Both Siddharth and Ishita were taken aback. She laughed, "He talked a lot." 

Siddharth nodded with a faint smile, acknowledging the truth, "He did."

Varun's wife gestured toward her house, inviting them, "Please, come inside." The couple nodded and followed her. 

The three of them took seats inside Varun's house. Siddharth's eyes wandered around the familiar surroundings, seeking a connection to the past. Ms. Patel sensed his silent search for her son and spoke gently, "He is outside somewhere." Siddharth nodded, acknowledging her words. She continued the conversation, "When did you two get married?" 

Ishita responded, "Last week."

Just then, a lively boy rushed into the room, clutching a football in his hands. He glanced at Siddharth and Ishita with curiosity. Turning to his mother, he asked, "Mom, who are they?"

 Ms. Patel smiled warmly and introduced them, "They're our guests. Say hello." The boy offered a small greeting, bowing his head in respect. Sensing Siddharth's unease, Varun's wife decided to give them some space to talk. She suggested to her son, "Rahul, why don't you show your chicken farm to this aunty?"

Ishita, understanding the unspoken message, looked at Rahul with enthusiasm, "You have a chicken farm?" 

His eyes lit up with excitement, "Yeah, I have eight chickens. Do you want to see?" Ishita nodded eagerly, and Rahul gleefully dragged her outside, exchanging giggles along the way. 

Siddharth let out a heavy sigh, his emotions surfacing as he spoke, "I'm sorry, I'm late. I tried to come here many times, especially on this day, for the last four years. I would come here, but I couldn't gather enough courage to face you two." Ms. Patel responded thoughtfully, "Why would you feel guilty about it? It was his own choice."

Siddharth shook his head, a mixture of pain and guilt etched on his face, "Because he paid the price for my mistake. We were supposed to move to the right, but I got the signal wrong and turned left. I got a bullet here," he pointed to his ribs, "then suddenly, I saw him... jumping in front of the showering bullets. How is that not my fault?" His voice quivered as the painful memories flooded back.

Ms. Patel sighed, her gaze filled with understanding, "You didn't ask him to do that. That's how it's not your fault. He used to say, 'There is a young boy, Siddharth, on his first border tour, so he missed his grandma, sister, and especially, his girlfriend. He feels like my brother.' He chose to save you. You couldn't have done anything with it except respecting his decision and living a good life he would've wanted you to have."

Siddharth couldn't hold back his tears any longer, letting them flow silently as he absorbed the weight of Ms. Patel's words.

Siddharth didn't bother to hide his tears, the emotional weight too heavy to conceal. "What about you? You don't have any resentment towards me? You two were married for only 4 years, and had a son of 2 years. A family was shattered because of me."

Ms. Patel was silent for a moment before replying carefully, "You know, when I heard news about him, and heard you were in the ICU, I understood clearly. But later, I was genuinely scared about you. I prayed that at least you could survive." She sighed and continued, "Siddharth, a soldier's family is always prepared for the worst in the back of their minds. I knew there might be a situation when I would lose him. I won't say I wasn't heartbroken; that would be a lie. But I accepted it. So, believe me, I have never resented you a tiny bit." She offered him a towel to wipe his tears, accompanied by a warm smile.

He wiped his tears, feeling a mix of gratitude and sorrow, and they walked out of the house.

They came out and watched Ishita playing with Rahul in the small chicken house. The little boy's laughter echoed in the air, a joyful sound that seemed to lighten the atmosphere. Siddharth hesitated as he asked, "Why didn't you think about starting a new life?"

Ms. Patel understood his concern and smiled faintly, "Initially, I thought about it a lot, to meet someone and all... but later on, I felt full instead of empty. My son's presence was enough. So, I gave up that idea. Besides, we have a vegetable farm in the backyard. I make enough money every week by selling it to the market, as you saw earlier. So, I didn't think I need some support anymore."

Ishita noticed them and walked out of the chicken farm with Rahul. Siddharth smiled fondly, "He looks exactly like his father." Ms. Patel nodded with a warm smile, acknowledging the uncanny resemblance between father and son.

Ms. Patel smiled warmly at her son, "Rahul, you know who he is? He's the Uncle Siddharth I told you about."

 Rahul remembered a little, "He's Dad's friend?" 

Siddharth bent down to his level, on one knee, "We can be friends as well if you want." 

The boy giggled, "How can we be friends? I'm just 6, and you're so big." 

Siddharth chuckled, and the two ladies joined in laughter from the background. Siddharth shrugged playfully, "So what? Your father was so big, and we became friends." 

Rahul looked at his mother inquisitively, "Really?" Ms. Patel nodded, "Yes, even Uncle Siddharth is my friend too."

 Ishita smiled at the boy, "See, we all can be friends." 

Rahul shook his head, "We can't, because you're his wife," pointing at Siddharth. The three adults burst into laughter at his innocent logic. Siddharth ruffled Rahul's hair affectionately and stood up.

The couple bid goodbye to Ms. Patel, expressing their gratitude, and got ready to leave the village. The couple bid goodbye to Ms. Patel and got ready to leave. Just then, Rahul called from behind, "Uncle Sid!" Siddharth and Ishita turned around. The boy yelled at them, "Please visit again." 

Siddharth smiled, "Of course, I will." The boy waved at them, and Ishita and Siddharth walked away.  

He held her hand gently, the warmth of their connection palpable. He spoke with a sincerity that echoed his newfound clarity, "Isha, I don't have any regrets. I'm not feeling guilty anymore. I'm just feeling thankful. I'm just grateful to him and my dad. Both of them... gave me two new opportunities for two new lives. I just have one answer: thank you."

Ishita smiled, her eyes reflecting understanding and shared gratitude. Their steps through the village streets became a symbolic journey, not just through physical spaces but through the emotional terrain of acceptance and appreciation. The echoes of laughter from Rahul's innocent plea lingered, and the couple embraced the present moment, letting go of pain and embracing the reality of gratitude for the second chances life had given to them.