Okay, I am seriously cringing right now. Not only is the title extremely lame, but I might actually be offending someone with this post. *Hopes that no one throws a knife at her.*
It’s my day again. I thought for this week, I’d do a story. I’ve been wanting to do one on this theme for quite a while now. It’s so frustrating that none of my stories come out the way I want them to in my head. I really, really wanted to do justice to the theme, but it seems I lack the artistic chops necessary to pull it off. This is a work of fiction. No particular inspirations. I’m sorry that I’m unable to do it better, but I hope you like it even a little bit. Let me know in the comments section what you think of it. Sorry for the long read and typos if there are any! 🙂
An Empty Heart
A young woman stands at the quay of some water body staring into space. She perks up at the sound of “Mama!” coming from two children. She turns around to see two kids, a girl and boy who can easily pass off as twins. Her cheeks flush from the happiness of seeing them. They are the most beautiful children she has ever seen. She bends down and hugs them tightly while they hug her back. Her expression changes as she embraces them, into one of unease and sorrow. She releases them, and with sorry tears in her eyes, pushes them into the water body. The water body is now a deadly vortex which is swallowing them in a swift yet gruesome fashion. They scream “Mama!” at her again but she only looks on apologetically as they disappear. First the legs, then the arms, then the torso and finally the face. She does not see their last expression.
Dipali woke up, panting and sweating. This was the thirty-second time in two months that she’d experienced the same nightmare, the images becoming clearer each night. Tonight she could see their faces, and she was sure they would haunt her during the day from then on as well. She paced to the bathroom to wash her face since she felt dizzy and had achieved a splitting head ache from the nightmare, like she did every night the ghosts visited her. “Will they ever leave me alone?”
“This is my punishment.” She thought despairingly. “This is my punishment for making one wrong choice in a life of perfection.” And it wasn’t even that wrong a choice. She was a nineteen-year old, college going student who simply made love to her boyfriend, like half the girls in her class. The moral gurus could not fault her too much because she was sure of her decision, did it with someone she truly cared about and ensured every protective measure was taken. In fact, they’d even planned the day beforehand so that she could make an appointment with a gynaecologist. But somehow, the Gods decided to spite her, making her that one in a million chance of getting pregnant, despite being the most conscientious person.
As far as she could remember she had always been a good child, bringing home good marks, helping around the kitchen, never hanging out too late and never deliberately rebelling against her parents. Even after finding out she was pregnant, she did not tell her parents, sparing them the possibilities of a heart attack and sparing herself a tirade of “shaming the family.” Gaurav was aghast of course, but being the nice guy he was, he even told her he would be willing to take care of the child albeit with a terrified face and an ambivalent tone. They’d split the cost. Dipali pawned the gold necklace her mother had so affectionately bought for her. Gaurav scraped up bits and pieces and also sold a few prized possessions to come up with the money. From the beginning, this was the only option. She’d never wanted children, and had never experienced the renowned maternal instinct. It was absent in her, which was why she assumed the healing process would be easier.
Why then, was it so difficult? Why did she wake up sweating and sore every night? Why was she so lost during the day? Why had life been vacuumed of colour? Dipali sighed. “I’ll read a good book.” If nothing else, she’d managed to finish many things on her “to-do list” during these nights.
The next day, as usual she dragged herself out of her house and went to college. Life seemed unexciting and dull. It was unexciting before too, but now it just seemed pointless. Every grand passionate affair realizes the pinnacle of that passion only for a few moments, and those few moments hold such dire consequences. This was what she’d concluded after the whole fiasco. She wasn’t even sure if she regretted the act, because it had been so wonderful. She despised her body more than ever now, hating the biology which was so unfair to women.
At university it was the usual chatter, the same inconsequential drivel. People talked of the TV show that was pretty good or the new song released by Justin Timberlake. As she listened to them talk, she could see their masks peeling off, revealing their truest, ugliest forms. This superficiality, she realized, was the mist that concealed everything. She had seen the monster in herself, and wasn’t able to put on that appearance anymore. Even all the joy in the world that people spoke of was embedded in that mist, making it hollow and empty. If you tried to seek true happiness beyond the surface, the universe would punish you. She knew that the best.
Despite this depressing epiphany, she still wanted to live her life being blind to it but how was she supposed to? She had the abortion to protect her happiness but it had culminated in the exact opposite. It had sucked all the happiness in the world, or rather she couldn’t see happiness as a worthy goal anymore.
At the end of the day, as she trudged on home, her eyes were drawn towards mothers with their children. A mother in her fifties shopping with her twenty something daughter, a young mother carrying her baby in her arms, a mother picking up her sons from school; her gaze was affixed to these women. She wondered if these women ever regretted having their children. Were they all happy? Was she the only monster who didn’t feel an inch of regret for her choice? Maybe this emptiness was punishment for that indifference.
And yet, despite believing herself to have made the right choice, somewhere in the deep corner of her mind, she felt a hint of a doubt cropping up. Even though she’d done everything in her power to prevent getting pregnant, she still did. Maybe she’d thought about it all wrong. Maybe the pregnancy was the universe’s way of gifting her with greater happiness. She thought about the children in her dreams, how beautiful and lifelike they were. She had it terminated before finding out the sex so she always saw them as two children. What would they have looked like when they grew up?. What kind of lives would they have had? Would they have gotten married? Maybe they would have become someone important someday.
She suddenly became aware that her eyes were starting to water. “Ah, I see. I wish I didn’t have to make such a choice.” She didn’t want children; she was sure of that. But was it still wrong of her to regret not knowing what kind of people they could have become?
The whole situation depressed her even more and she briskly walked home. She went to her room and shut the door. All of a sudden, they were in front of her again. She was awake and alert and they seemed so real she could touch them. “Mama”, they say unanimously. She walks over to them, but then they transform into teenagers. They’re obviously going through the awkward phase of puberty. And it continues on until their twenties. By now she is sobbing. Their growth stunts there. They turn to her and say “Goodbye” before disappearing into the air. They are so beautiful.
Emptiness, she thought, is like a thin satin curtain that obscures insanity and grief. You convince yourself that you’re empty when the truth is that that emptiness contains so much angst that’s begging to burst free. She realized her nightmares were small bursts of that grief, and today would probably see a larger explosion.
The next day at college, she decided to go meet Gaurav. They had amicably decided to break up after what had happened. She knew he had to be grieving as well. He almost became a father, and he was not the kind of person who would simply gloss over that fact. When they broke up, neither of them talked much of what was really important, which probably deteriorated the situation.
After going through the awkward pleasantries she got straight to the point.
“Gaurav, I haven’t been able to do anything in the past two months. I always thought this was something I could move on from, something I could leave behind in my past. I’ve sort of come to the conclusion that I can’t. This is something I’ll never recover from.” She said hesitantly.
“I realized that throughout whatever happened, everything was my own selfish decisions, and you went along with them compliantly. You didn’t have much of a say at all. I’m sorry.”
He looked at her for a few moments and then said, “You don’t have to apologize. The truth is I’m more to blame than you are. Even if I didn’t have a say, I didn’t really give you many options either. I’m just some stupid, reckless kid who can’t do anything. I’m sorry for not being reliable I guess.”
She smiled. “Do you ever think of what could have been? You know, if we didn’t go through with this?”
“I do. All the time. But then I realized there’s no point. We could have been happy, unhappy or a mix of both. We can’t really tell. Even if it was a difficult choice, we made one we were sure of. I’m glad we did that.”
“You know, Gaurav, as far as traumatic experiences go, I’m happy I experienced it with you. Thank you for everything.” She said, smiling through her tears.
He flashed a painful smile right back. “Likewise. I’m glad I met you, Dipali. I won’t ever forget you.”
That night, Dipali managed to sleep the whole night. It wasn’t a dreamless sleep, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one either.
It is the same scene by the quay. A young woman is embracing her children tightly. She lets go of them and then says, “Let’s go home. Your father will be there soon. We’ll surprise him.”
Mango Mustache 