Second God: Part 1

Second God: Part 1: Back to Beginning

Tears were peeping out of her eye. Years of training had taken all of her fear and panic of blood, injuries. In her world, she was perceived as an imperturbable perfectionist. She also believed in it, until that moment when her trembling hands refused to coordinate with her mind. She had no option, the case was so critical that no one else could handle it. She wiped out her tears, last time she wiped her tears was five years ago...

“MANILA” a tall man with an oblong face yelled. His voice was loud and clear enough to travel 10 ft. up even with the loud music in the room. People around him glanced with a smile and continued their gossip as it was not strange for them. Most of them knew his idiosyncrasy. He looked at his wrist watch tied on his hand, the real one. The pedant retired army war veteran was always known for his discipline.

“Coming papa” she instantly replied while looking into a mirror.

“This is my chance; I have endured all the hardships in the anticipation of this moment.” Her heart was pondering as it was aware of the repercussion. “Calm down my mate, I know you too have gone through a lot but trust me, my love Ankit would reward it.” she murmured to herself.

All eyes fixed on her, whispers increased when she came downstairs. The white coat over her gray T-shirt was appearing as the elegant as the radiant smile on her face. All she could see the glowing eyes, inflated chest and smile on the face of her father.

The rest of the evening, she met all her relatives whom she hardly knew (nor she would be going to remember), heard her glib immense praise, folding hand and putting a forced smile on her face. The occasional relief from this gauche moments were her phone calls, but they were only meant to congratulate on making to AIIMS and her birthday. She gave them terse replies. She was not sure whether she was tolerating all this for his father or for Ankit.

“Papa ji” she uttered in the best possible voice while clearing the mess of guest in his room. He came close to her not as a phlegmatic General but as a father.

“During Party when I said I don’t want anything. I lied. I want something from you for the very first time. I didn’t want this before strangers, but before our family” she said, staring at the framed picture of her mother.

In matters like this Grandparent, mother and older siblings are the best options to present your case. Unfortunately, she had none. She was still wearing the white coat of her mother as it was her only power to melt the heart of his father.

“If mom had been alive, I would have told this to her but……..” The silence grew eerie as he was sensing the direction of the conversation.

“I….I am in love with a boy.” All the blood in her father's body was rushing to his face. Her legs started vibrating.

“Is he a doctor?” The voice was loud, clear and petrifying. She felt as if the sharpness has just torn apart her body.

“He is a very understanding, caring guy. He loves me a lot. He works at a software company. I know papa he will keep me happy. Please, Papa…..” She was trying all possible logic to him, but the sound of her tears and his breathing was the only audible voice present in the room.

“You will marry only a doctor, and these are my last words. No more discussion. I will send you some bio-data. Choose one from them.” He went away to smoke.

The tears dried up, she lost the count of ticktock of the clock.

She touched every trophy, medals in her room, nothing was reliving her sorrow. These trophies were the only things she had apart from her boyfriend. She wore the dresses her mother gave. Laughed, cried then packed them all in a box. In the end, she hugged her big teddy and escaped into the world of memories.

The phone rang displaying the name Ankit as the clock ticked 6’o clock.

“I told you, his steadfast ideology is never going to accept you. Your patience theory is not going to work with him. I want to execute my plans right now. I am ready with everything. I Love You.” She felt as if she has disconnected all the sufferings with the phone.

                                                                                   To Be Continued...