Light seared through the fluttering veil of her long lashes when her heavy eyelids separated from each other. An involuntary groan escaped from her lightly adhered lips. A pungent stench hit her nostrils and hastened her recovery from her unconsciousness. The hustle and bustle around her aided in escaping the benumbing embrace of the unconsciousness.

"Patient on bed number eleven is regaining consciousness."

A faint feminine voice reached her ears, and the image of a petite woman dressed in white floated in her brain despite her drooping eyelids. Her head was heavy and throbbed with an ache reminiscent of the times she had pulled all-nighters for her exams as a student. Despite her best attempts, she failed to support her head with her hands. She felt weak.

"What's her name?" asked another voice coming from an opposite direction.

She could hear the shifting of footsteps and rustling of papers. "Madhuri Shukla."

The utterance of her name ceased any efforts to support her head. The last coherent thoughts of her mind, before she drowned herself in the lake and unconsciousness, had resurfaced. She heard a mirthless chuckle at the back of her hazy head and froze.

Such a shame! Neither had she jumped into the holy River Yamuna like her father had said, nor had she died. The merciless voice laughed away and stabbed a thousand daggers into her heart. She felt the sobs rumbling in her chest, waiting to be let out.

"Madhuri! Can you hear me?"

The voice had reached her brain, but she could not muster the strength to respond.

She wanted it to end.

The groans and moans of those around her.

The nauseating odor permeating her surroundings.

The intractable pain mangling her insides.

The reverberating laughter inside her head.

The taunts. The names. The darkness. Everything.

"Madhuri! Madhuri! Can you hear me? I hope she had not hit herself on the head, and that it did not result in a speech pathology! Call the on-call ENT resident!"

"Why am I here?" asked Madhuri. Her parched throat hurt with the articulation of every syllable. "Why wasn't I left in that lake?"

The nurse looked flabbergasted by her words. "She can speak. No need to call the resident!"

"Tell me." Her voice came out as a raspy whisper. "Your friend and her brother brought you here. We had asked them to stay outside for the rounds. I'll call them," she said, dodging the question.

Years of experience had made the diagnosis clear to her. Every word uttered by her could push deeper into the abyss she drowned in. Her friends had rescued her from the lake she had jumped into, but they had no clue about her struggle to remain afloat in the ocean of sorrow.

Madhuri wanted to run away. Far away from the mess her life had turned out into. Away from the desert she had walked into. However, she could not bring herself to move even a finger of hers.

"Madhuri."

A deep baritone voice met her eyes, and she darted her weak eyes in the voice's direction. "You?"

"Anupriya went to buy a change of clothes for you," said Rakesh, settling on the stool beside her. She could see tears of guilt swarming in his downcast eyes through the veil of her lashes. Her eyes refused to open to the complete extent, and she did not have the will to force them open.

A tense silence befell them, only disturbed by the agonized whimpers of the other occupants of the general ward. His staggered breaths and twitching fingers left ample hints about his nervousness and turmoil.

"Why did you do that, Madhuri? How could you give up on your life?" he asked, abandoning his resolve to remain silent and avoid an awkward conversation. He had to know, no matter how much remorse the revelation would rouse.

A wry chuckle escaped her lips. "How does it matter? No one cares about me. I'm just someone's daughter. Someone's wife. Someone's daughter-in-law. Nothing was ever about me."

Rakesh looked as though someone had slapped him across his face. His fingers twitched to entwine with hers, pull her closer and whisper reassurances in her ears. The wall, of customs and of constraints they had themselves imposed, refused the privilege to the man and the luxury of wish fulfillment to the woman.

"That's not true. Anu cares for you. I care for you- "

"And yet you could not find your voice to fight for what we had," she said, shutting her eyes and the tears filling her eyes pooled at the root of her nose. Rakesh gulped the lump at his throat. That was not how he had envisioned baring his heart to her. Not in a hospital. Not after she had given up on her life.

"Those times were different, Madhuri. Anu had eloped and left your brother heart broken. Your family would have never accepted the proposal after Anu broke the union."

"So, you did not even bother to try. It's so easy to give up, isn't it?" she asked. The chilly undertone of her voice made a shudder run down his spine.

"It's never easy, Madhuri. To give up on something one desires and cherishes is the worst thing that can happen to anyone. Now I know it is never right either. I'm not leaving your side this time."

He mustered the courage to place his hand over her cold one when she flinched. His hand fell back by his side, and he pressed his lips together in contrition. "This assurance is too late. The hand reaching out to mine is too late. It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does," she said, tears escaping from the lateral canthus of her eyes.

The stolen glances, the innocent flirtations and the occasional hand holds made their way back to her turbulent mind. Those dreamy, carefree days had no dearth of hope and happiness, and there she was. Dearth of both after the death of them both.

"Madhuri!"

Vartika's unmistakable voice had found Madhuri's ears. The woman, only a stranger, had showered her with compassion and respect when they laid long forgotten as mere wishes in her heart. Vartika, trailed by Anupriya, had reached her side and Rakesh rose from his seat to give them space.

"I shouldn't have let you leave yesterday after witnessing your mental state! I'm sorry, Madhuri!" she said, clasping the desolate woman's icy hand between her warm ones.

Madhuri gave her a weak smile. "There was nothing more you could have done, and you did everything you could, madam!"

Vartika exchanged looks with Anupriya, who nodded at her in affirmation. She tightened her hold on Madhuri's frail hands. "We will get you justice! My brother is a criminal lawyer and what your in-laws and parents have done are crimes, Madhuri! We will bring them to justice. They can't escape the consequences of their actions!"