Fated to love you

I hate winter.

The fifteen-year girl thought wrapping the sweater around her torso a little tighter. The said sweater had better days to say the least…. the sleeves hardly reached her wrists, the ends of appeared to moth eaten and it seemed, they have given upon the sweater too. But, it’s all she had to bear the cold. Her already pale hands have turned even more pale, if that’s possible because of her clutching the ends of sweater too tight to her body. She thought Mumbai, the ever bustling capital of the state, practically the economic capital of the country was near tropics…. at least that’s what she read. Then why it’s so cold? Maybe the clothes that she’s wearing were too little. She thought while looking down, her eyes trailing over her worn out sneakers, washed out jeans, her thin black t-shirt and ultimately her pink sweater which apparently even moths hated.

No.

She thought. She was adequately dressed for the winter. Maybe she’s the one that’s actually feeling down. Her pale fingers trailed over the side of her torso carefully so that she doesn’t put too much pressure on the bruises she suffered yesterday night. Just enough to confirm that light tenderness that one would feel when one passes a finger over a bruised area. Not too little…not too much…. just light enough to feel that light sting of pain. The others didn’t hurt as much…even the spilt lip that she’s currently sporting on her lower lip. The bruise on her cheek stung a little when the cold air hit it, but that’s bearable. She slightly adjusted her weight onto her left side making sure that her right one which had sprained didn’t feel the slight shift…. she was actually now thankful for the cold for somehow numbing the pain. She will definitely feel the effects later, so she would deal with that later. A neatly dressed woman in her thirties who was just exiting the café threw her a glance filled with disgust, eyes widening when she noted her bruise and split lip.

Jeez lady, you don’t have to make it so obvious.

She pulled down the hood of her sweater a little more, so that she could at least cover her bruise. Bruises and split lips hardly make people to trust someone. She received few more glances thrown her way from the people walking by. Some were filled with disgust due to her attire, which had seen better days, some were of pity, noting her sunken eyes, cracked lips and malnourished state.

God, she hated the latter.

Well, there were some, who scattered away so fast that she wanted to laugh. She knew they were scared. Scared that she would ask for their help. People, in general don’t want to disturb their normal pace, their normal life by which they live. They get scared to change that. That get scared that if they try to help her, maybe even decide to help her, she would cling to them all the way to their home begging them to take her in. Well, she didn’t ask for help. In fact, she would never beg, never ask someone for help.

Maybe, she shouldn’t have stood beside the bustling café in the city.

But what could she do? They wouldn’t let her stay near the theatre. And she couldn’t stay in the waiting hall, looking at patients, nurses, doctors, basically…. people. She wanted to be alone. And wait. Was that too much to ask? The family members of the other patients beside her kept casting suspicious looks, glancing at her injuries.

Was it that obvious that she was in a fight?

Yes, it is.

Can’t they just assume that she slipped in the bathroom and fell? they do get bruises from falling, right?

But, not necessarily on the face though. And the split lip too.

She should have been careful. Next time, definitely not the face. Maybe, that why the nurse didn’t allow her anywhere near Mabel’s room or the operation theatre.

No one beside the family members are allowed, miss.

Couldn’t she just assume that she’s her granddaughter or daughter or something.

Mabel is a nun.

Right, maybe a long lost niece, who just gotten to know her aunt’s critical condition and had to travel a long way across the country to see her.

Yeah, not with bruises all over her body, split lip and sprained ankle.

So, all she could do was to wait in front of one of the busiest cafes in the city which was located in front of the hospital where Mabel was currently being operated. That, and so that she could at least eye feast the foods which were on the display window.

Her stomach growled slightly, reminding her to feed it, to get something in it…she patted her flat almost sunken tummy lightly, maybe to remind it that she had no money to feed it right now. Hell, she didn’t have money even to buy water. All she earned went straight to the bills, and she didn’t have strength to last another round in the ring to make some extra money. Now, all she had left was a rumbling stomach, a bruised body and the entry pass to the ring which she had tucked safely in one of her socks. She had to safely guard it. They rarely gave it to outsiders like her, she was lucky she got it. She needed it to enter the ring again when Mabel wakes up. She needed to survive a few more rounds to pay for the remaining expenses and maybe to grab a bite later, after the fight’s over.

Maybe it was a bad idea to stand in front of a café when you a growling tummy.

Her stomach growled again. She groaned in defeat, slumping forward slightly and winced when the movement accidentally jolted her sprained ankle. She caught herself clutching the metal pole beside her tightly until the pain subsided. How could survive even one round in the ring in this state? She had a feeling that her opponent tonight was going to be extra brutal.

When she saw a group of guys making their way towards the café, she hurriedly shuffled away from their way and tried to slip into the shadows of the alley beside the café. People don’t like she stood in their way, well, they don’t like the sight of her, in general. They were older than her, maybe by a couple of years and they were dressed quite nice and they smelled good. So, she stood there in the alley while they entered the café laughing at some joke that lanky guy fired. Apparently, they were here to celebrate the end of their term exams and again that lanky kid declared one of the guys was going to pay for their bill quite loudly without even consulting him.

“ Guys, my man Adi is going to take care of the bill...come on ,man! Don’t give me that look, you’re loaded. Besides, we all know who’s going to top the exams, right boys?” Some of the guys nodded while a couple of guys remained silent, their expressions grim.

“Ishaan!” one of the silent guys groaned slightly. “Dude! We told you, you can’t just declare that every time we go out to eat. it’s fine for the first time…. but not every time. It’s not polite.”

The lanky dude who was apparently Ishaan rolled his eyes upwards and groaned loudly making her take another step in to the alley. One more step, and she would bump into the trashcan behind her. He sounded like a rhino with constipation when it was taking a dump.

“Kabir , what’s so wrong with it? Adi’s loaded, he’s going to top the class as usual, and I heard that Danika is going to ask him out today at Aryan’s party tonight. Aren’t those reasons enough for him to celebrate?” he thumped his lanky fist on the back of guy beside him, making him spit whatever the guy was chewing.

“Who’s Danika?” a calm voice spoke out suddenly, making her whip her gaze from the café wall’s chipped painting to the origin of the voice. Her eyes settled over a boy, maybe a year or two older than her, standing beside the boy, Kabir.

He’s good.

She thought. And not like in way people describe when they see a person and think that he’s good which most of the times it meant he’s handsome. But, she meant good in an entirely different way. Like he was good. Like good, through and through. Nice. Pure. His voice was different. He had that kind of voice which would put children to sleep. It felt like it would put her in a deep sleep if she could listen him talk for a few minutes, it was soothing. It was not harsh or loud.

“Dude, you don’t know who Danika is?” Lanky Ishaan screeched again making her wince again.

This lanky Ishaan had no regard for people’s eardrums.

The gentle voiced guy shrugged his shoulders slightly, shifting his attention towards the hospital in front of them. It seemed that he wasn’t interested in whatever nonsense that lanky Ishaan was sprouting from his mouth.

“Adi, you don’t know who Danika is? Like seriously!” he screeched once again.

So his name’s Adi. And was lanky Ishaan deaf? Didn’t he just tell him no?

“Dude, Danika, right !” he paused for dramatic effect hoping to catch his attention, but when he failed to do so, he shifted towards others and started screeching again. “ Danika Ahuja! Anil Ahuja’s daughter! Ahuja ? ring any bell?” he again glanced again at him whether to see he was paying any attention, but he just kept staring at the hospital with a lost look in his eyes, his right index and thumb slowly circling a gold ring on his left ring finger.

He’s lonely.

She thought noticing his far gaze. She followed his line of sight to the hospital in front of them.

St. John’s Medical and Trauma Centre.

The huge red letter blocks were in a stark contrast to the pristine white colour of the building which looked like a lighthouse on a beach, lighting up the whole place. The red light of the letter blocks reflected on the road which had not yet dried due to earlier rain that day, making it look like a serene lake back at the orphanage. Every time, an ambulance arrived with its sirens blaring and stopped in front of emergency block, her heart felt like it would come up to her throat.

Another casualty.

During the time she visited the hospital because of Mabel, she noticed certain things, seen certain things, seen certain people. It’s that when something good happens, everyone wants to be a part of it, but if something bad happens, no one wants to come up to front, and own up to the fault they did. Instead they blame it on someone else.

If you could have brought her even a few seconds earlier, we could have saved her.

Who are you to tell them that? Just because they are doctors, that doesn’t mean they can place the responsibility of loss of a life on already grieving family. How about admitting that they couldn’t save the patient? Why pour the guilt onto them?

The patient doesn’t have health insurance, miss. she will have to pay for everything. If she can’t afford the medicinal expenses, you can take her to the government hospital.

Were they actually serious? They knew government hospitals wouldn’t perform such critical operations. They knew they were the only choice. Her only hope. And they were exploiting that by milking money from her. She knew they were taking advantage of the fact she was fifteen and naïve and were dumping extravagant expenses on her. And that made it hard to trust them.

When she was in the ring, fighting, taking hits and fists from her opponent for money she needed, she kept thinking what if they fail to keep their word. What if they can’t save Mabel, what should she do? Should she make a scene by crying her heart out? Or could she hit someone until she can’t feel anything? What if it was Mabel’s time to go? She heart lurched at that thought.

She had seen two brothers blaming each other regarding their mothers illness, relatives and friends backing out at the last minute, wife blaming her husband because of his sterility….everyone’s blaming someone.

why not focus on their mother’s illness rather than blaming on others.

why not help their friends when they need it...

why not be supportive of her husband, instead of blaming him..

because, that what family does, right? They stand by each other in their lows.

Mabel often used to tell her.

“Sarayu, love can do magical things. Things that even science can’t do. A few words filled with love can save a person. A few words of hate can kill a person. You don’t need a family to love someone. You can make someone you love, your family. If your family hates you, means it isn’t your family anymore.”

She loved Mabel. She was only family. The whole time she took hits and punches in the ring, she thought, if I don’t do this, who will? Mabel had no one. And she had only Mabel. She wanted to be Mabel’s family. She wanted that connection with someone. Maybe she was being selfish, trying to save someone to be their family, but she didn’t care. She would make amends with Mabel later. She would ask her to forgive her, when she rejected her help when she tried to adopt her, stayed closed off when she tried to make her open up to her, tell her that she was grateful for everything she did for her, that she’s indebted to her, and that she would do everything that Mabel asked her, that she had wished for her.

That she stop being a kitchen help.

Enrol into a school and study something.

Let Mabel adopt her.

Stop being closed off.

To smile.

To grow up.

To live.

She wanted to say she would do anything she asked as long she survived. But, watching the doctor refusing to operate on Mabel because she didn’t have money, made her want to bash his skull into the wall. She didn’t care how talented he was, or he had graduated from the top medical university in the country.

What’s that use of top medical university degree if it doesn’t save a life of a person.

In orphanage, while in prayer, they say education is the route to enlightenment, that it gives knowledge, helps them in making the right decisions.

But was refusing to operate on a poor patient right?

If that’s what comes out from education, she didn’t want to study. She rather remain like this, whatever she was.

She was woken up from her train of thought by that blabbering idiot.

“so, like I was saying, Ahuja Productions…they are the biggest film production companies in the country…their management company has signed up many of the hottest stars and sign up only the famous ones…they are saying that Anil Ahuja is planning to launch his daughter into the showbiz as well, apparently, she has already signed up to play the younger counterpart of the female lead in a high production action movie, and she’s to be in the movie for more than fifty minutes and she also started doing sexy photo shoots already to launch her career if you know what I mean…and she had her eyes set on our friend, Aditya for a long time.” The boys cheered loudly at that. The boy in the discussion remained passive the entire time, but that didn’t seem to discourage the idiot.

“you know, she came into the locker room today wearing her cheerleader outfit, she was looking HOT in that and kept looking at him with you know, her sexy eyes…but,” but he nodded his head in his direction “do you know what he did? He said ‘girl’s locker room is in the next building’ with his poker face.”

She snorted at that.

“you guys should have seen the poor girls face, you know. She was devastated. And I heard that she coming to the party tonight to make a move on him again…” Lanky Ishaan kept muttering wriggling his eyebrows all the way until they entered the café without taking a break to breathe.

Oof.

She sighed in relief, revelling in absence of Lanky Ishaan’s screeches. The boy had no filter. All the boys trailed after him into the café, not noticing that the boy who’s supposed to pay for them didn’t enter with him. They were lapping up whatever nonsense the lanky Ishaan was sprouting. The boy, Kabir sighed patting him on his shoulder, spoke with him for few seconds making him nod once and entered the café leaving him alone on the street.

Can’t they see how lonely he is? Why are they leaving him?

Her stomach growled again. She patted her tummy once more. She should eat something. She hadn’t since yesterday. She felt her empty pockets to check if she had a few rupees left to buy something to eat.

A hot bun would be great.

Her mouth watered at the thought of filling her mouth with the soft fluffy bun. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of the pastries filled her nostrils.

God, they must taste sweet. For now, this is enough.

After a few rounds in the ring, she will have to take some money from the earnings.

When she lifted her eyes from her stomach towards him to look at him once again to see if still had that sad look in his eyes, but he was no longer there. Maybe he had gone in. She left her hiding place in the alley and stood in front of the café again to catch a glimpse of the wall clock hanging on the café wall.

6: 24pm.

The surgery should be done by now according to the nurse. But, she couldn’t get herself to move from her place. She wasn’t brave enough to face the reality. Its fine if the surgery went well, but what if it didn’t. A million scenarios ran through her mind.

A million what if’s.

The nurse told Maddie that her condition was favourable, there shouldn’t any complications, the surgeon was quite talented, the hospital was known for its post-operative care...etc. like she was in some sort of TV commercial. Still, she couldn’t get over the fact that something was not right. Her instincts were screaming at her. If someone asks her what she’s confident about herself, she would say it’s her gut feeling and her memory. And right now, her guts were screaming that something was not right. And her instincts were what kept her alive till now.

It’s now or never.

She took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves and adjusted her posture so that she took take first step with her left foot. It felt so wrong to walk differently placing her left foot first and dragging her right foot later, but she got accustomed to it after walking two miles this morning. She held the metal pole for support and started to make way towards the hospital, when the café door opened suddenly and she came face to face with him.

Him. Adi. And he was staring right at her.

Well, he can’t stare at her as her face was half covered with the hood. She knew only her lower half of face would be visible and winced at the thought of him looking at her split lip.

Why was he staring at her? She didn’t steal anything from him.

“Here.” He outstretched his hand towards her holding something in his hand. Her stomach growled again when she saw what was in his hand.

A sandwich.