The mirrors in the room have been covered for the past three days, and though he knows that perhaps he should check his appearance he can't force himself to meet his own eyes. As he is thinking that perhaps it might have been the right thing to do, if only so that Rohan doesn't glare at him, he curls and uncurls the fingers of his right hand. He'd lied to Rohan, to his nanu, to anyone who had asked, and told them that he'd had an accident. That the cuts on his knuckles had come from banging out his old bike at a nearby tree. Nobody needs to know that as soon as he'd looked at his face in the last uncovered mirror he hadn't been able to stand the jerk that stared back at him and had taken a page out of someone else's book and punched the glass.

It's not simple to say,

He'd banned anyone from coming to his room since then, and avoided having to see what he was turning into when he was forced out of the solace of the room. There was nobody to check on him, anyway, since nanu was out on a buisness trip and Rohan has settled on avoiding him at all costs, so avoidance had suddenly become a lot easier. He leans against the counter in his bathroom for a second longer, breathes a slow exhale and ghosts his fingers over the center of his chest before he tells himself to man up. "Uth, Sameer", the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like the brat Somani grunts at him,"Uth aur apna kaam kar"

That most days I don't recognize me

So that's exactly what he does. Puts himself together, wills the excess of himself that keeps bursting at the seams, and gets out of the bathroom. Methodically, he picks up his watch and his wallet and makes his way to the stairs. Even Ramdhari is mournfully silent as he goes, as if he knows that something is wrong with him wishes him a quiet good luck that makes him close his eyes and wish for a stupid request for having breakfast, and the familiar "Sameer bhaiya", and gets into his car. He avoids his eyes in the rearview mirror and revs out of his home's garage.

After all, tournament trophies don't award themselves.

Don't watch the clock. Do what it does.

Keep going.

Unbeknownst to him, Naina Aggarwal was leaning on her bedside, clutching the furry mess she called her "Guglupuchu". Though Swati failed to understand her suddenly revived obsession with the toy they had won back in Mount Abu, and Preeti had finally shifted from distrust to straightway disregard, Naina couldn't bring herself to become conscious of her current situation.

Life after that is... pandemonium, to put it bluntly. There are concerns and people and all sorts of confusion Naina can barely keep up with. Through everything, Preeti proves to be a rock. After the day, which is later on dubbed D-Day for Destruction Day, Naina hadn't been able to think straight, rather think at all. There she was, eager to share her insecurities about Sunaina with Sameer, bursting with love and joy- love for him and joy for their love. Her love. She thought bitterly. She's feeling the strain of it, every day, and had been wishing for some sort of respite from it all.

She's barely slept since the whole ordeal started and she knows her shaking is more than just nervousness, but she trudges on every day. What else can she do anyway? Sometimes she weeps at her fate, sometimes she curses at Sameer, but majority of the times, she nothing but laughs at herself. "Sameer tujhse pyaar kaise kar sakta hai? Aisa hai kya tujhmein jo unn baaki ladkiyo mein nahi hai" Her own reflection had said that the other day. How can her inner-self be anything but truthful?

Sometimes pain is just suffering

And all of a sudden Naina feels her chest wrench in pain and loss, tears start pouring out because the only person she's ever loved doesn't truly love her back. And it hurts her more than anything in the world. Yeah, maybe, Naina was naïve into thinking this could work but it had felt so right that she couldn't stop. So when she heard those words come out of Sameer, she did the first thing that popped up in her mind. Which was to drown her sorrow by locking herself away and weep in the emptiness of bathrooms and corners, until she couldn't feel this great emptiness within her.

It doesn't make you stronger

"Nothing but a physical attraction" She kept repeating it like a mantra. Physical attraction. Phys-Physical attraction. Physical..... She soon broke into another round of sobs.

It doesn't build your character

The way Sameer had looked at her, all sorrowful, awkward regret and probably a healthy dose of disgust and secondhand embarrassment. Disgust for himself or her, she truly couldn't understand. Maybe disgust at Naina, for thinking that he could ever love her. If Naina thought about The D-Day, which she didn't, or tried not to, because that was the clearly marked path to self-recrimination, it was probably the pity that emptied itself, stinging sour and bitter, into her gut that was the worst of it. Pity managed to hurt more than any blow, probably because it was the kind of compassion only those with the power got the luxury of having. Sameer didn't want her, and there was nothing she could do to change that. She just had to accept it. With good grace, of course. She thought bitterly. Waise bhi yeh sab kab tak chal pata.

It just hurts

Afterwards, after the stomach-churning mortification subsided, after Naina could breathe again without it spiraling through her chest in a rictus of cold tightness, after she could look at herself in the mirror again, Naina could step back and see just how monumentally she had misread the situation. Or, hadn't read it at all. She had tried to take the part of Sameer that could love her. The part that didn't or couldn't belong to her. Just tried to take that little bit extra, that little bit more, the part that didn't belong to her.

As she sat alone in her definitely-not-sound-proof room, she let go of her sobs, letting them consume the empty room. Her heart broke with every memory he recalled of with Sameer and her, but with every tear she shed, every memory soon became blurry to her. Every feeling she felt soon became numb. She was so gone over that she didn't even realize the presence that had entered the room.

She put a pause on her self loathing show when Preeti entered the room with a plate of food. Naina shielded her face with her arm, and sniffled. She was not one to cry, and it could only be something so terrible to make her shed a tear. She had a broken heart, that was painfully obvious. But Preeti didn't need to know any of that. She knows that Preeti has a clue about it, but she wasn't going to make it damn obvious by shedding tears all day.

"Khana kha le. Beemari ka naatak karne ke liye taakat chahiye hogi na"

Naina smiled bitterly at Preeti's taunt. They both knew what was wrong with Naina's "illness" didn't they. But this time, Naina didn't bother denying it or holding back her sobs. She let herself weep. No. Not weep. Bawl. Preeti again didn't say anything. She merely locked both the doors of their shared room and held her firmly.

She rested her chin on Naina's head, hugging her tightly. Her grip on Preeti's shirt got tighter, and a muffled sob was heard. She knew Preeti hated to see her this way. She hated all of this. She wished she'd kept her tears to herself.

"Main hoon yahaan," she soothed, stroking her hair. "Sab theek hai."

"Preeti tu na hoti to-toh pata na-nahi kya hota."

Even through the obvious heartbreak of her sister, Preeti smiled gently, holding her and rocking slightly. "Shhhh mujhe pata hai."

Naina pulled away, eyes watery and big, and she asked, "Tu kabhi nahi jayegi na Preeti"

She shook her head in reply and then hugged her again. They stayed like that for a long time. Not wanting to let go.

"Naam batayegi uska?" Preeti asked quietly.

Sameer. Sameer. Sameer. Sameer. Sameer

"Nahi" Naina mumbled through her sobs and tightened her hold around Preeti's waist. The latter nodded her head in understanding. Naina half expected Preeti to push her for details, but she didn't. She pulled Naina closer and continued muttering sweet nothing's in her hair.

The first couple hours after the incident, Naina had been sure that she would wake up. That it would all be a horrific nightmare.

It wasn't until she had bumped into a couple of students that she came back and realized that the nightmare was stretching too long.

That it wasn't a nightmare at all.

She was practically ghost during the first day. It became apparent that whatever source of happiness she had for the path months was suddenly gone. That the bulb was taken away from her completely dark room.

It had all been so silent. She kept to herself, even though everyone in her family knew that something was wrong with her. She had decided to blame her condition on a sudden illness, she wanted to stay close to them, because she was afraid of what would happen if she was truly on her own.

She was sitting up in her bed for the whole day, looking out the window.

The second day was....

It just was.

Shadows under her eyes, unkept hair, the wild tears slowly making it's way on her face. Taiji looking absolutely furious, "O bai. Ek shakal surat ke dam par hi toh shaadi hogi iski. Woh bhi theek se nahi rakhegi toh tera byaah hi nahi hoga. Ab ya toh iski shakal sudhaaro, ya phir Rakesh babu ko kaho ki apni tankha badhaaye"

The amount of times Naina had to say "It is what it is," was too many.

"Bhabhi ji meri tankha badhaane ki koi zaroorat nahi padegi. Meri beti toh itni sundar hai koi ek jodi kapde mein bhi le jayega. Aap bas apni chinta kijiye"

But they she was adapting, kind of.

It wasn't until day three that Naina finally saw progress in the world around her.

Not anything big, by any means. But small things.

And though she was trying making strides forward, there was still a constant ache of what (who) wasn't there. Every smile, every joke made her hyperaware of the person that wouldn't share any of it anymore.

Her family was a constant support though. Every moment, they reminded Naina of why she had fought so long and why she still had to fight.

But her heart continued to ache,
her throat continued to shout it can't take it anymore,
her limbs continued to betray her.

"Naina tujhe pata hai na ki agar tu aise roti rahegi toh woh ladka jeet jayega." As Naina gazed at her sister questioningly, "Kyu yahi toh chahta tha na woh. Ki tu ek dum toot jaaye aur apni yeh buri haalat bana le." Naina stiffened.

No. No. No.

But Naina didn't have the heart to contradict her. Every limb, every bone, every nerve just hurt so much. She was afraid she was going to break. Shatter in a million little pieces. Become unrecognisable. Become someone she was not. Become someone she didn't want to be. Why couldn't he love her?

Oblivious to her sister's hitching breadth, Preeti continued, "Naina yeh sab ladke na ek jaise hote hai. Inhein toh bas Rakshabandhan par rakhi baandhni chahiye aur chaar kadam door rakhna chahiye. Tu tension mat le, main, Mummy aur Papa na hamesha tere saath rahenge." As Naina hiccuped again and clutched her sister tighter, Preeti rubbed her back soothingly, "Aur aise bekaar ke ladko ka chakkar na chodd de. Yeh hote hi dhokebaaz hai. Yeh wala bhi pakka awara hoga"

No. No. No. No.

"Nahi Preeti woh.... "

However, Preeti simply glared at sister "Ab tu yeh mat kahiyo ki main galat samajh rahi hoon ya aisa kuch. Naina tu na bahut bholi hai. Teri aadat hai sabmein acchai dhoondne ki." As Naina parted her lips to say something, probably contradict her, Preeti glared much more menacingly, "Phir wohi Naina. Mujhe samjhaane ka koi faayda nahi hoga. Kya bolegi tu? Ki woh toh bahut accha hai, mujhmein hi koi kami hogi. Agar woh itna hi accha hota na, toh aisa tera dil nahi todta. Itni buri haalat bana rakhi na tune, usne ek baar bhi tujhe phone kiya? Tera haal pucha? Nahi na. Use teri koi parwa nahi hai Naina, aur tu aise ladke ke liye aansu baha rahi hai."

As Naina broke into another round of sobs, Preeti immediately wiped the lone tear that had escaped from her eyes, and spoke through her watery voice, "Apna nahi toh kam se kam humara hi soch le behen. Mummy Papa kitne pareshaan hai ki tu ek dum se beemaar pad gayi hai. Pooja didi din mein chaar-paanch baar phone karti hai tera haal poochne ke liye. Aur main...." She didn't continue. She simply looked away.

Naina still didn't look at Preeti though. She kept her gaze focused on the beautiful nothingness in front of her. Preeti sighed and took out a crumpled and worn-out paper from her pocket. She patted her sister's head adoringly and kissed her forehead, "Tujhe poems padhne ka bahut shauk hai na. Toh aaj main library gayi thi. Mujhe pata hai ki maine "library" aur "jaana" ek hi sentence mein use kar liya, toh tu zyada hairaan mat hona." She held the paper in front of her sister, who reached our for it half-heartedly. However, Preeti immediately moved the paper out of her reach.

"Ek kaam karte hai, main na tujhe yeh thoda sa khana khila deti hoon. Tu khaate-khaate isse padh liyo" Preeti flashed her a big and cheerful smile, which Naina knew was completely fake. "Waise na Swati ki Baroda wali Masi aayi hai hai usse milne, toh woh kal parso college nahi ayegi. Aur College mein toh saare ke saare paagal ho rahe hai. Woh cricket tournament ka dusra match aa raha hai na. Saare lage huye taiyaari mein, khaaskar Arjun Bhaiya. Tujhe pata hai, Pandit bhi baar baar tera haal puchta rehta hai, Rohan bhi pareshaan lag raha tha. Accha pata hai Sameer bhi kuch dino se college nahi aa raha hai. Woh uski SMFGs kal dahaade maar maarkar ro rahi thi." Preeti giggled, but Naina decided not to dwell on the previous knowledge.

As her sister fed her some khichdi, Naina gently opened the page that her sister had definitely torn from a library book, but instead of reprimanding her, Naina just gave her small and grateful smile.

She knew why Preeti had chosen the particular poem, but didn't know if she was strong enough to use the meaning of the text in her life.

INVICTUS
By William Henley

Out of the night that covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

Who was she in front of this great text?
_____________________

The very next day, Sameer was busy in the cricket field. The entire college's hope depended on him, so he had to work hard right? But there were a few problems though. His team's balling was pathetic, the fielding was still unsatisfactory, and the batting performance was mainly dependent on him and Arjun. Recipe for disaster.

As for his personal life, he felt like more of a jerk every passing day, Rohan was skillfully ignoring him, Pandit's disappointed gaze had soon shifted to being almost....searching, Munna was still his old self (a big solace for him) and Arjun was mad at him for god-knows-what-reason. So yeah, he has manged to piss three of his four best friends (and break Naina's heart). Yippeee. Big progress. He thought bitterly.

Speaking of Naina, she wasn't really coming to college, so no news of her. But she might be fine, just heartbroken, hurt and probably angry, but fine. It must be overwhelming sort of, he didn't know, just...it must be all she could think about, just like him. She must wake up thinking about it. She might go to sleep thinking about it. She wouldn't be able to concentrate, because he had done this cruel, not-amazing, not-wonderful...thing... to her.

Just fine

"Samee tere haath se khoon beh raha hai."

Pandit's voice broke his chain of thoughts and Sameer looked down to see his bloodied, bandaged hand. He hadn't realised when his hold on the bat had tightened so much that the not-from-punching-the-mirror wound had started bleeding. It didn't hurt though. Didn't hurt much. Not like that day anyway. It was fine.

He has started using the word too often hasn't he. I am fine. It was fine. It is fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. As if the word itself will make everything fine.

Well he knows that it won't make anything even closer to fine, but he can't bring himself to stop. He has to convince himself that he was fine. Has to repeat it like a mantra. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Maybe because he was afraid, that if he stopped even for a second, He will drown in all the reasons that he was not.

He sighed and became busy in ignoring Pandit and Munna's lecture about taking care of himself. Blood. Health. Responsibilty. College. Blah blah blah....... The same bulshit. He headed towards the medical room some ten minutes later, after convincing Munna Pandit that he will be fine and the team needed miraculous skills and contant practise to win the next match.

Naina was fine
He was fine
It's not like he was dead or something.

He didn't particularly care that he was dripping blood in the college corridors. Just a thorough cleaning and they will be shining and free-of-his-blood again.

He reached the medical room and scrunched his nose as the familiar smell of strange medicines entered his nostrils. He had never liked medical rooms and hospitals much. They always reminded him of his Nani and her illness. Of his father, the real one, and the particular day. He diverted his gaze from the box of medicines kept on the table and took a deep breadth. It didn't matter anymore. It was so long ago anyway. He is gone now. She is gone too.

And he had forced Naina to go.

He turned around to leave. It was a bad idea anyway. Just some water and the blood will be gone. No worries. No doctors. No bandages. It was fine.

Until it wasn't.

At the door, in all her heavenly glory stood Naina Aggarwal, looking as beautiful as ever. She had dark circles around her eyes though, her eyes seemed bloodshot, and she looked so.....weak....so fragile. Congratulations Sameer. He really had broken her.

And all of a sudden Sameer felt his chest wrench in pain and loss. The stomach-churning agony was back, he couldn't breathe without it seeping through his chest in a sphere of absolute tightness. The pain was emptying itself, stinging sour and bitter, into his gut and that was the worst of it.

For the next several moments, neither of them spoke anything. What could they speak though? But in truth, they didn't really need to. Sameer could read everything in her eyes, and he had a feeling that she could too. Words were overrated anyway. Her gaze soon fell to his hand that was probably dripping blood into the floor by now, and she gasped. Sameer immediately hid his hand behind his back, but Naina was already reaching out for it.

For the next several minutes, as Naina wiped several tears from her eyes and gave him a first aid, Sameer couldn't do anything but stare at sheer beauty of her face. This was probably the last time he was seeing her this way. This close. This near. This intimate.The last time he will give any pain to her. The last time she will ever cry. He hoped.

Naina stood up and took the first aid kit back to the table. Sameer did not look after her. While Naina had been sitting so close, holding his hands, it had felt as though all the oxygen had been leached from the air between them. Only now did it feel like it was coming back, like he could breathe again. Had Naina felt it? That breathless sensation that sapped the strength from his muscles and left him feeling as weak as a newborn colt in a green field? It seemed for a moment that maybe there had been something. Just in the heartbeat before she stood up and walked away.

But she came back pretty soon and sat beside him. His eyes were drawn back to that hand lying on the cushion. How could a hand look so innocent and defenseless? Sameer's own hands began to shake, and he watched, mesmerized, as his finger reached out toward Naina's.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

It touched the pads of each of Naina's fingers in turn, then slipped into the curve of her palm and lightly traced the lines that crisscrossed the surface.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong

Naina looked at Sameer's face, almost daring him to wake up, then bit her lip and settled her hand over Sameer's. His hand was larger and covered her's almost completely. Heat bloomed in the pocket of space where their palms did not quite touch and existed there like a tiny sun. To Sameer, it felt like it could warm a thousand galaxies on its own. Naina's fingers twitched and came to rest against the outer edge of Sameer's hand, the middle fingers touching the bandage she'd applied earlier, the pinky and index finger touching Sameer's skin. It felt natural. It felt like they belonged there, like Naina's hand had always been meant to hold his, like it had been made for no other purpose than to sit palm-to-palm and finger-to-finger with Sameer's.

Right

But Naina soon snapped back to the reality and shook her head, as if trying to clear it. She stood up abruptly and immediately exited the room.

But Sameer didn't leave or even make a move. Sameer sat that way with Naina's imaginary hand in his, just taking it in, marking it, and over the years that will follow, after today, after college, after.... everything..... he would definitely think about the way Naina's hand feels in his. He would think about the tiny, brave heat that lived between their palms.

Maybe he could undo everything that had happened. He wondered if he could just erase it all so he could feel that touch again for real, even for one moment, he wondered if he would do that.

Of course, he would.

Of course, he would.

P.S Happy new year to all my wonderful readers. May this year fill your lives with joy. This chapter is dedicated to my dearest Chaaru. Happy birthday dear!

P.P.S The poem used above is very close to my heart, since I constantly read it during my own breakup phase. This poem touches my heart every time I read it again.