A/N: Hello everyone, posting my last update here. Thank you to all those who've read it.

Happy Reading! :)

***

15 years later

Armaan:

I could feel a rush of excitement while I was driving today; all these years of hard work had finally paid off. It was my first day at work, my first job ever; I had cracked a top notch multinational, strategic consulting firm. I was joining them today as a consultant; this was my big dream, and it had come true after an immense amount of hard work and grit. As I was absentmindedly tapping my finger to the rhythm of the music coming from my music player, the music suddenly stopped; I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes.

[Call incoming: Mom]

Sighing internally I adjusted the volume of my Bluetooth set and received the call. How'd I think, she'd let me be at peace; after all it was an important day in my life, my mother dearest absolutely had to ruin it.

"Yes, mom," I spoke reluctantly. She seemed surprised.

"Oh, you received it. I was going to leave you a text, didn't want to disturb you...um but then I thought let me try once, what if you receive it. Guess it is my lucky day" my mother spoke softly on the phone. Any person eavesdropping into this conversation would already start judging me; after all I was acting pricey to the honey coated voice of what seemed to be an absolutely delightful mother; no one could be mistaken more.

"Why'd you call, mom?" I asked again, trying to wrap this conversation at the earliest.

"To wish you beta; I mean, today is your first day at work! After all the hard work, the difficulties...." she was about to continue with her barrage of adjectives that seemed to work on her manuscripts, as each became famous published works of literature over the years; but I cut her short; no one knew it more than me, her words were as beautiful and hollow as her, my mother, Mrs. Nandini Khurana.

"Thanks mom. Okay, I got to rush now" I replied quickly, and was about to hang up when she spoke again; I clenched my jaw in irritation.

"One second, beta," she pleaded.

"What now?" I asked, not bothering to mask my irritation.

"Manik uncle would like to wish you too; hang on I will..." she couldn't finish her statement again, as I interrupted one more time with more determination this time.

"Listen mom, I really need to go now; thank him on my behalf" I hurriedly finished what I had to say, and before she could respond, I disconnected the call with a sigh of relief. As I drove on, I stared at the screen for a few more seconds, anticipating she might call back, but she didn't; little mercies, I smiled to myself, but my mood for the day was ruined.

My mother manages to ruin my mood on every single happy occasion, I have noticed; she does it effortlessly, just by calling, or showing up, or making a dish to please me or worse, trying to make me engage in a conversation with Manik uncle; and what infuriates me is, every time Manik uncle flashes his teeth and tries to make an effort to pull me close. What does he think, what he couldn't manage in the last fifteen years, that would happen suddenly, one fine day? Honestly speaking, I don't blame Manik uncle as much; why should I? Who is he to me? How can I expect anything from him; but my mother?

What mother chooses her 'boyfriend' over her family? She had me, she had my father, and we loved her, but that was not enough; she needed to string along Manik uncle too! One may judge me for being harsh on my mother, but have you ever been pranked in school because of your mother's misdeeds? Have you ever seen your mother juggling between two men while she is trying to raise you? You didn't, right? so you'd probably not get my point of view. My mother of course provided a very 'noble' reason to me, justifying her deeds, when I questioned her in my adolescence; apparently, it was a sacrifice she made for me. So, I had the love of both parents; but she never realised, she went overboard when she tried smothering me with the love of, not two but two and half parents; my father, her and her boyfriend.

I oftentimes wondered would I hate her as much if she had actually had what it takes to legally divorce my father and really marry that man; probably not. I'd respect her choice; but being in an 'open-marriage', that too, in Delhi? Having her boyfriend buy a villa a couple of blocks away from us in the same neighbourhood, really? I know she is a writer, and they have these queer fetishes, it helps them write, but why couldn't she understand, it was our life, our happy home; dad, her and me. She ruined that for me. Staying in the marriage for me? Why, what would change, if she had legally separated, couldn't she raise me like normal separated couples raise their children? But that wouldn't serve the purpose right; that wouldn't make her a scandal queen in the elitist circles of Delhi; how would millions of copies of her books sell then, without a little bit of PR gossip here and there? What would the royalties be like, if she was a merely ordinary divorcee?

As I started growing up, there was this one harsh truth I realised, no matter how much I tried denying; my mother was as hollow and fake as the writings of her books; her struggles were as silly and useless as those of her leading ladies in those same books. I would have accepted her more had she actually tried showing me her real selfish face, but she never did, she always came to me in her sacrosanct image; the ideal mother; this infuriated me. Even today, I hate the fact that she respected my privacy and didn't call me back when I disconnected the call; it was her way of showing me how understanding and accepting she is of me, but truth be told, it was a play, it was meant to make me feel that way; it was fake.

I was fifteen when my parents were called in school for a disciplinarian action taken against me; I had punched a boy who had mocked my parents' arrangement at home; that evening, dad, mom and Manik uncle had come together and they had told me, this so called arrangement was socially accepted and it had a name, it was called an 'open-marriage' and it wasn't a crime. I remember trying to Google this term that night and reading up everything that came up on the internet about it; I didn't quite understand it that night, so many years have passed; I still don't quite understand it. If there was one good thing that happened that night, it was this, I never punched another guy for bullying me about my parents after that; you know why, because from then on I believed everything they said about my mother and her boyfriend.

***

Nandini:

I looked at the phone in disappointment, Armaan had disconnected the call; I looked at Manik with uncertainty. He smiled brightly at me.

"It must be a network issue Nandini; that's why the call got disconnected. Don't worry, whether I wish him in person or not, my best wishes are always with your 'ladla'" he told me reassuringly.

"By the way, you had said I was allowed to cheat on my diet today on account of this happy occasion; I hope my 'aloo-ke-parathe' are ready!" he asked, diverting the topic with a childlike excitement in his voice. I laughed at his cuteness.

"Yes, of course! Today you can take up to three parathas and I won't scold you!" I indulged him.

"That's amazing Nandini, can I trade the third paratha with a 'gulab jamun' instead?" he asked me with all the innocence he could muster; I tightly sealed my lips to avoid laughing and giving in.

"Don't push your luck, Manik; parathas are only allowed because your cholesterol is in check, the same can't be said about your diabetes!" I replied sternly and he rolled his eyes in response.

I turned around to make our coffee as he busied himself with the newspaper; I glanced at him once, he didn't notice me. A smile spread across my lips as I realised once more how happy and content I was in a life I shared with him; I never thought I could be this happy, in this lifetime, but turns out I can be; in fact I am. Manik wasn't only the man I loved; he was a shred of divinity bestowed upon me by the high heavens.

Fifteen years back, I had openly challenged the universe and put all that was important in my life at stake for a gamble; I gambled for happiness and love. The war that broke out after that took every single person I had in life; it began with my best friend Navya who I am still not in touch with, my 'mumma' who I have learnt to forgive, love, relate to and cherish over the years now, my half-sister Aliya, who I heard is happily married off and settled in the US, and my husband. I thought I was done making sacrifices after that, and I could live happily with my Armaan and Manik; little did I know, the war was not over yet, the universe would seek one last sacrifice from me; I had to give up absolutely everything to get Manik.

Eventually I did sacrifice my last relation, the most important one, the one I was not willing to lose, but life left me with no choice. My last sacrifice to the war against fate demanded my Armaan, and even though I wasn't ready, it claimed him. I started losing Armaan, perhaps my most painful loss, and the slowest one as well; I lost him bit by bit every day; I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't tell him why I was in an open-marriage, embarrassing him in front of society, I couldn't point my finger at Aryamann; he was all Armaan had after pushing me away, I didn't want him to lose his father too. As days turned to weeks to months to years, Armaan only kept moving away from me; I felt helpless, but I didn't know what to do; I didn't know how to be a good mother, I didn't know how to deal with a troubled child. In these years I resonated with 'mumma' . She had faced the same with me; I had found myself wishing she was around to guide me, but she wasn't there.

Today, Armaan is a shadow of a son he once was to me. He didn't disrespect me on my face, he didn't care for me; I was not a part of his world, I was not more than an occasional visitor he was tolerant towards, due to his respect for his dad and his wishes. As for us, Manik and I never openly discuss Armaan, he doesn't broach it knowing it is my lowest key, and we pretend everything is perfect; every time Armaan avoids me or ignores Manik, he finds an excuse for Armaan's behaviour; but I am guilty of Armaan treating him like that and I know deep down he is guilty of being the reason why I lost Armaan; but neither of us acknowledge it, it is because deep inside, we both know, no matter what we lost, we stand here today cherishing each other and we cannot ever regret finding each other; our spot of happiness in this dim, dark world.

***

I often wonder where I went wrong with Armaan, and every time I have this question, I find myself reaching the same answer; I didn't go wrong with Armaan, the society went wrong with raising morals. I was born a woman, it wasn't a choice for me; embracing womanhood isn't really a choice for us women, it is a natural progression; in embracing womanhood, we are blessed with the choice of creating life inside us; it is a beautiful choice to have indeed, but it is a choice, not a natural progression. Nature gives women the right to choose motherhood before embracing it; but our patriarchal society takes that choice away from us. It tells us, if you are a woman, you are a mother; and once a mother, you are first and most importantly a mother; this is a rule made by society, not nature. I didn't comply with it, that's why Armaan moved away from me.

I chose motherhood too; but I didn't neglect my womanhood either; that's where society thinks I went wrong. As a woman I dreamt of love, and I chased it, I pursued it, I fought for it, I sacrificed for it, and I won it. That's where I am supposedly wrong. I was just supposed to be a mother, and not chase happiness for myself if I didn't find it while I was in the closed confines of my marriage with my husband, while playing the role of a mother. I didn't believe in this; I believed in the desire of the woman in me, the woman I was born to be, before I chose to be a mother; I believed in giving her a fair chance too, along with my motherhood and that's why patriarchy rebuked me with a rod. That's why Armaan, who was raised in the same social framework of patriarchy, abandoned me; I couldn't teach him better; no 'one' mother can, but we collectively can change the thought and raise children with better morals.

I tried imparting the higher morals in Armaan, but it didn't work, he still went to school and mixed with children who were raised in the shackles of patriarchy; if my son had a different belief, he was bullied and not one person could save him; I realised this when we were called for a disciplinarian action taken against him, by his school; I had realised what damage my teaching was imparting on him; that day I had decided to stop justifying my side to Armaan, and let him hate me, it was easier for him that way; in questioning my choices, he could rid the questions hurled at him, the answers to which, he was too young to give; the same answer which no one would accept anyway; the very same day I had taken this decision, to be the bad mother to save my little one, a soft voice in my heart had questioned me after so many years, did my 'mumma' also pull the same stunt on me, all those years back?

As I came back to the table where Manik was impatiently waiting for his parathas and looking at me with childlike enthusiasm, I laughed; how was this scandalous, how was this anything but sweet, pure love? Would we have a better place in society and get Armaan's love and respect if we were born fifty years later and chose the lifestyle we chose today? We probably would; in that case we both were just ahead of our time, not wrong; everything in life cannot be perfect; life is not a bed of roses; I lost everything in my face off with life, but I won Manik and it was enough for me.

I, Nandini Murthy, am a survivor. All my life, fate threw oddballs at me, and I am proud to say it today; but I fought them all, I fought bravely, I fought tirelessly, and I won the game of life. My victory came with heavy prices, but it came in the face of Manik's divine love for me; hence I have no regrets; and no amount of criticism or character assassination will ever take the pride of winning 'love' in the form of Manik and life in the form of a 'survivor', away from me.

"Something very beautiful happens to people, when their world has fallen apart: a humility, a nobility, a higher intelligence emerges at just the point when our knees hit the floor. It guides us to the path of victory" ~ Voice of the Ocean, Nandini.

***

A/N: I know this was a hatke story with not much MaNan focus, more story driven, hence I request you one last time to leave your thoughts on the story :)

Ladies, if I may ask, what are your thoughts on womanhood vs. motherhood? I'm very curious to know, do write here for me! :)

If you think the story moved you the slightest bit, do share it on your profile so that it reaches more readers!

Thank you for all the love & staying with me through out, I promise to keep writing !

Signing off,

Aafrah

PS : For all Hustle For Love readers, I'm publishing tomorrow :)