What If...

I

Alia was standing there, at the same spot on the platform, for almost twenty minutes now. Her legs had gone limp but, she could almost not feel it. Her heart was thumping slowly, in non rhythmic beats. The throbbing fit in with the slow music in her ears and the humdrum urgency of the faceless crowd. They couldn't care less about her predicament.

The panic was mounting in her heart, at a slow pace so much so that she couldn’t have known when it would beat right out of her chest. Her eyes darted across the platform every few minutes, scanning the whole area. Somehow, she couldn't believe what was happening, for she had everything at stake.

Emotions started bubbling up and she felt a knot in her stomach. In a pained and angry indignation, she turned around. She felt how it feels to be betrayed, how it feels to walk on a tightrope above the deep, dark abyss. She started walking towards the exit in heavy steps, still hoping that a voice would call her name.

Enveloped in her tide of frenzied emotions, she failed to notice, just for the difference of ten seconds, the person who had raced down the staircase on the other side and had started looking for her.

II

"Trust me when I say that you are completely useless! Give it to me, now, fast, I'll clean it for you. One work, Dhruv! One work you were supposed to do nicely and see what you've done"

Contrary to what she said, Alia almost snatched the only white shirt Dhruv had, from his hands and started towards the bathroom. The white shirt, once crisp and soft was presently, marked with prominent stains of the mango pickle. Perhaps, Dhruv organizing the kitchen wasn't a good idea after all.

Dhruv pressed his lips together to show his regret which quickly broke into a smile, and followed Alia to the bathroom.

"You could just change the containers, you know. They are too slippery. It could’ve been more than just my shirt..." Dhruv placed the sentence delicately while being fully aware of what it might bring.

"Now!" Alia turned around, half glaring and half giggling at him "Don't you blame my containers. They are perfectly okay. You are careless"

Alia opened the faucet and started rubbing the stain with some detergent powder while Dhruv held the shirt for her. 

The floor of the bathroom was wet and quite ironically, Alia was careless this time. At that moment, Dhruv briefly held her hand to help her keep balance and quickly let go. She paused for a few milliseconds before beginning to rub again. His hand was warm and somehow very firm. She had panicked at first because she didn't know how to react. When Dhruv seemed calm, she regained her composure and tried to quieten her mind.

They were both silent for the next one minute.

"Would this go away?" Dhruv broke the ice, much to her relief. She nodded. "The pickle was damn tasty, though" He said, trying to sound cheerful.

Silence.

"Let me do this now, Alia. I have to get used to this anyway"

Finally, Alia turned to look at him.

"What do you mean by ‘getting used to this’?”

“Doing things alone”

Alia resumed rubbing detergent.  

“Were you serious that day?" She gulped down a lump at her throat.

"Of course Alia" Dhruv started rubbing some detergent too.

"So you are really going to get a divorce?" Alia almost whispered for she dared not say it out loud.

"Now!" Dhruv made a ball out of the white, crisp shirt and aimed it at the bucket lying close "We did talk about this, didn't we?" The shirt fell inside the bucket, while Dhruv narrowed his eyes on Alia.

Visibly hurt, without even knowing why, Alia washed her hands and came out of the bathroom. Sometimes, she felt, she failed to understand herself.

Dhruv followed her to the living room.

"Alia. WE are going to get a divorce. Not me" Dhruv said aloud, and tugged at Alia's elbow to stop her. "What's the matter?"

Silence.

"Alia, Speak! You know I am tired of pretending. Let’s just..."

"You know what happened, don't you? Why do you keep telling me things that aren't true? Why do you keep giving me false hopes that what I faced, what I know isn't the truth? It has been three years, Dhruv. Three years!"

Dhruv sighed.

"Why do you think she is waiting for me, in the first place? The one time when I thought I will be happy with you, move on with you, you are pushing me away?" Big, warm drops started falling down Alia's cheeks and she turned around for tears were still a sign of weakness to her.

Predictably, Dhruv took her in his arms. Both stiffened for a few seconds for none of them was accustomed to each others' touch.

"Would you be happy, Alia?"

"You love me, Don't you? How does it change things now that you know?"

Dhruv's dark eyes softened as he smiled.

"It changes everything. Every. Single.Thing.Period"

Alia broke the embrace in frustration. "I have been betrayed Dhruv! For god's sake, don't tell me I haven't been. You have said enough. Just please!"

She broke down and collapsed on the sofa, head in hands.

Dhruv felt it best to keep quiet.

Time was flowing. Alia's mind went back to the railway station she had wanted to abandon for long. The hurt was still fresh.

She always felt that there could be no hatred greater than what replaced the colossal love, because the void remains the same, rather widens. And nothing ever remains vacant, does it? What fills in the vacancy of lost love then?

The betrayal pricked at her heart in the same way as three years ago.

"What if she didn't ..."

"Shut up! I don't want any conversation on this topic" Alia sat up straight and wiped her tears. Suddenly, Dhruv felt scared, but he had to gamble.

"What if she had come?"

Alia took a long breath and left the room.

III

Alia wondered, while lying down on the bed that night, if Naina was thinking about her. Was she married? Probably yes. She shuddered to the idea of her being happy.

Dhruv didn’t know that she had wondered often, perhaps wanted to. She had wished and prayed it all to get over, to know that she was wrong. But, not everyone is strong to dig deeper, to accept, therefore, she felt it better to escape.

But tonight, she didn’t. She wondered if Naina knew how Alia had returned home that day dejected and defeated, how she had to tolerate incessant mockery and scornful comments about the 'abnormal love' that betrayed her, how she had cried every night, how she had tried to make her parents understand who she is and how her mother had ridiculed her feelings and her father had decided for immediately marrying her off.

She also wondered if Naina knew how she had spent three years with a person she didn't love, but had come to admire, how she had cried while pouring out everything to Dhruv, her husband.

Alia felt she could move on, so what if she didn't feel attracted to him now, she was sure she would, if she gave it a chance. Or would she?

It was hard for her to pretend she was happy.

She wondered if Naina had come that day. She wondered what her life would've been. She wondered if she should call her, the next day.                                                                                                   

***