Over A Cup of Coffee and Paneer Tikka - Part 3

“Max? Who is he, Mish?” her eyes glinted.

“Max Hospital, Lipika. Hospital,” she said the last word through gritted teeth, trying very hard to suppress a scream.

“But Mish--” Lipika began.

“I know you’ve been stopping me since morning. But it isn’t right. I know it isn’t. I love him and that’s all that matters. I’ll forgive him, this one time. He deserves forgiveness. For all the love he ever gave me,” she could sense tears in her eyes but she didn’t want to cover them now. She hadn’t cried for a month. Now, she could. Now, she could release the hurt, the pain, the anger. She knew it wasn’t entirely Lipika’s fault, who’d kept her from Ansh all through this month, but she just couldn’t take it any longer. Her mind had given up, lost to her heart.

“He hasn’t even told you her name, Mish,” Lipika said in a last-ditch effort.

“I DON’T CARE. JUST GO,” she shouted and then broke into sobs. “Just take me there.”

Lipika turned the car to the direction of the hospital. Nervous breakdown was not her thing to handle, she was sure as hell.

Now, Mishka could feel the taste of coffee and paneer tikka in her mouth. It was almost as if she was coming back to life. She had kept all her memories at bay by working overtime. Every time a memory surfaced, she blocked it with anger. She took sleeping pills so she didn’t have to think before sleeping. But since the past week, her mother had hidden them. And now she thought. Hard. She thought how much she missed him, how much she loved him. She thought if that was how petty her love was that it could not forgive. She remembered how they shared coffee and paneer tikka during the cold nights, how he had hugged her to sleep. How he loved her. Really loved her. Her mind kept racing to the memories of the past and she had realized what she was stopping. Now, nothing could stop her.

“We are here, Mishka. Go.” Lipika announced as they reached Max hospital.

“Thanks, Lipika,” Mishka was still crying. Then she ran.

Lipika was only whimpering. She didn’t cry that easily. But she was saying it again and again. “The girl was me. I am sorry, Mishka.” She knew once Ansh told her, she wouldn’t have her back. She didn’t want to have her back. She had her eyes set on Ansh and when she found out that he liked Mishka, she couldn’t believe her life took a turn like that- like some movie. And then she gave him up. But a month back, when she got the opportunity, she couldn’t resist it. She couldn’t believe it either. That she could still like him. Mishka was out and there was nothing better than alcohol in the world. And Mishka was the best excuse to invite Ansh over. She’d planned it all out, now she thought, like a vamp in some silly serial. But strong will power was never her forte. And she did it. She knew Mishka wouldn’t forgive but what she had forgotten was how much they loved each other. She drove back, knowing no one would come back looking for her.

In Room 413, Mishka held Ansh’s hand. He couldn’t speak through the oxygen mask. It only fogged when he tried. But she knew what he was saying. She knew he was sorry.

“I am sorry, too. I love you very much, Ansh. More than anything else. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I wouldn’t have come here, Ansh. Stay with me. Just stay.”

They both cried for the rest of the night. Held hands in each others’ and cried.

The nurse found both of them asleep the next morning. She was sleeping by the side of the bed, kneeled down on the floor and head resting on his palm and he lay peacefully on the bed, his other hand on her head. The nurse smiled and went on to call the doctor. The doctor had to be told, after all, that Ansh was normal again.