The night they met - Gunjan's feelings

She walked away from Samrat, head held high. She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t. He had killed her sister. How could she love him?

And if she told herself that often enough, she might even convince herself one day.

She went into her bedroom and walked slowly to the mirror and stared at herself. She had changed, she knew. The simple, plain girl from three years ago, the shy, underconfident girl, who had always thought herself not good enough for the hottest guy of the college, yet had found herself the object of his love and adoration, the quiet girl who had adored him back, who had lived for him, who used to get frantic if she didn’t see him for more than a few hours … where had that girl gone? And where was the girl who had promised to spend her life with him, never leave him, ever? She knew so well what Samrat had gone through in his life, his loneliness, his fear of abandonment, his feeling that everyone whom he loved, he lost … and she had promised him that she would never do that to him.

And yet, she had. She had left him without a word, had walked away without even seeing if he was all right, if he had recovered from that accident which had claimed her sister. So lost had she been in holding herself together, in comforting Mayank, that she had not spared a thought for him, her love, her life, her fiancé. And when she did think of him, all she could remember were her last words to him – Samrat, slow down please!

And he hadn’t.

And her sister had died.

She hated him. Hated herself for living, hated him for not listening to her, not changing the wheels of fate, allowing her sister to die when she could have lived.
And yet, today when she had looked into his eyes, and seen his love, all she could think of was going into his arms and sobbing her heart out.

Why did he still love her, she thought fiercely. Why couldn’t he hate her too? She had walked out on him, broken all her promises, left him alone and bereft – why didn’t he hate her? Curse her, shout at her? Then she could shout back, let her feelings out, let herself go as she had not been able to for three years.

Three years. Three years of holding back, of holding herself in, of silent tears, shed in the quiet of the night so that Mayank, or her father would not hear her, would not rush to comfort her. Because she didn’t want their comfort. They didn’t understand her pain. Only one person understood her pain, had ever understood her so well, better than she even understood herself. It was only his arms she wanted, she craved. And they were the only refuge she denied herself.

She slipped into bed, held the pillow tightly and allowed the memories to flow. She had held them in check for three years, clamped back whenever they threaten to spill, but today she was defeated. The look in his eyes had defeated her and she let the memories spill out with her tears. Their first meeting, the pool where he had saved her, Bhavesh, the teasing. The Talent Parade, her first song on stage, while he smiled at her and played the guitar for her. The bet. Her anger, the breaking of their fragile friendship.

And then their first Valentine’s night. When they had come together again as friends, but in a bond far stronger than any friendship, though neither had known it at the time. A bond forged that night, which was never to be broken again, through all the ups and downs that followed. And when she had fled to Morena and he had followed her, that bond was given a new name – love.

They thought their love was forever. Even when Suhani came, their love stood strong. Samrat held it together, not giving up when she would have done during her paralysis, not giving up ever whenever she went away from him. Only when Neil came, did he falter, because he thought he had hurt her, which he never wanted to do. And it had been her turn to win him back, a task which had been so easy, because wherever they went, they never went too far from each other. They couldn’t. And this last time, when they had come together, it had been for a lifetime. An engagement. The prelude to the rest of their lives together. Even though Nupur was going away for three years, she still had Samrat. And he was the world for her.

So what happened? The accident.

Why? She whispered, the tears spilling in a never-ending stream. Why did it happen this way? We were so happy, then why? Were the gods angry with us? Did we tempt fate by showing our joy? Everything was going to be all right, everything was wonderful.

And why can’t I forget? Why can’t I leave those memories behind? Why do I see him everywhere, his smile, his teasing, the way he held my hand, the way he pulled me to him, the way he held me in his arms … the way he loved me. Made me feel as though I was the most special girl in the world, made me feel beautiful, confident, happy. Made me feel secure in his love and in his arms, so I never needed any place else to be.

She turned on her side, remembering. Zindagi do pal ki …

He had proposed on the road, in front of strangers and had hugged her in public when she said yes. And then … that magical night … spent in each others’ arms, a night when they had forgotten the world outside. They were their world, their only world. Each other … that was all they needed. And she had given herself to him freely, joyfully, knowing she was his and he was hers.

She sobbed softly, remembering that night. Samrat, she whispered. How can I live without you? How can I carry on? I need you, I need your love … to heal me, to make me forget.

But when she looked in his eyes, he hadn’t forgotten either. He was hurting as much as she was. And if they got together now, their combined grief would drive them under. One of them had to be strong – they usually took it in turns, but this time … this time, they were both in need of strength, and neither had that strength to call on.

Samrat, she whispered. Samrat. I want to forget you. But I can’t. Show me how to. Show me how to hate you.

She couldn’t do either. During the day, she could hide her tears, her pain, her loneliness, but at night, the longing surfaced. The longing for that embrace that held her together, those arms that were her refuge and her home, the love which was her life, the passion which brought her to life. And the man who was her everything.

The next morning, she was back to normal. Smiling, laughing with the children. She almost lost it when Mayank came and asked her if she had slept well – he noticed her swollen eyes. But she hid them from him by turning away and by her determined cheerfulness. He didn’t understand her well enough to see through her lie. And then he mentioned Excel.

Excel. Samrat.

For three years she had kept the memories at bay, but they were coming back. Forcing themselves back. As though fate was telling her that enough was enough, she had to stop running. Stop hiding. She would have to face him sooner or later, and it seemed that fate had decided sooner. And that ‘sooner’ was now.