CHAPTER 17
ABIR'S POV
I look out of the window of the backseat of my car. Right now, I am brimming with excitement as we are on our way to the amusement park.
"Abir, enjoy yourself today, okay? Mumma and Papa will do everything in this world to make you happy.", my father said, looking at me through the mirror in the car, with sincerity shining in his eyes.
"Yes Abir. After all, my favourite son is turning 5 today!", my mother turned around and pinched my cheeks, smiling warmly at me.
We are a happy little family living with satisfaction and a lot of love. I smile at both my parents who are looking at me with so much love.
"Papa, what about my gift?"
"What do you want, beta?", he asked looking at me through the mirror.
"A remote-controlled car!", I exclaim immediately, with excitement.
My mother suddenly looks taken aback and nervous. But my dad turns to her and blinks at her reassuringly, "Of course, consider it done."
"But Mehul, we can't afford-"
"Meenu, I will take care of this. I will not deny anything my son asks me. Especially, on his birthday."
I immediately jump in the car, happiness surging through me. I have seen friends from my play school play with one of those and ever since, I have wanted one. I lean forward through the gap between the seats and hug my father and kiss him on the cheeks, "I love you Papa."
He pats my face lovingly, still concentrating on the road, "I love you too, Abir."
My mother gasps dramatically, "So you don't love me Abir?"
I immediately hug my mother and kiss her as well, "No mumma. I love you, infinity!"
She kissed me back, "I love you, infinity too, my Abir"
I sit back in my seat and look outside my window.
Suddenly, my father parks the car in a corner.
"There is a toy shop in the opposite side of the road. I will buy your gift and come back.", he said and got off the car and crossed the road carefully.
I feel so lucky to have such parents who love me so much that they would want to do anything for me. And today being my birthday, all that I wish for is to live a happy life with my family, forever.
Two minutes later, I see my father waving at me with a wide grin on his lips. He waved the cardboard box containing the new red colour remote-controlled car at me, smiling happily. My mother laughed at his funny antics, as he crossed the road, still waving the toy my way and walking bouncily, like a clown. A giggle escapes my throat as I see my favourite person in the world bringing my favourite birthday gift for me.
A sudden loud horn disrupts the happy moment, as I notice that a huge truck is only few meters away from my dad. Panic courses through my body as I watch the scene in front, and I involuntarily scream at my dad to move fast, only for him to turn towards the truck slowly and freeze. I heard my mother shout his name but all that my dad does is stand still looking at the truck that is too close to him now. When the truck makes contact with his body, I feel as if I've been knocked out of breath. I cannot breathe. All I can see is my father flying in the air due to the impact of the hit and he falls on the ground, a few meters away from the place of collision.
I feel as if the world freezes around me. My heart skips a beat at the scene in front of me. As I look at the limp form of my father lying on the ground, I feel numb. I am not able to move my legs and run to my father, to see him get up and tell me he was joking. Nothing would happen to him.
Right?
Of course. My father is my superhero. A truck would not be able to do anything to him. I know that pretty well.
My thoughts are interrupted as I see mom sprinting out of the car and running towards him. Following her, I ran towards my now limp father. Even though I convinced myself that he would be fine, I couldn't help but panic when I realized that he was not moving. There was a large pool of blood surrounding his head and the left side of his face black and charred due to the impact of the collision.
With my heart thumping loudly with anticipation, I shook him, "Papa, wake up. You should not sleep on the road."
My mother on the other side was sobbing hysterically, asking him to open his eyes. I noticed a random person on the road call the ambulance.
Looking at my father's now-crooked body covered in blood, all I could do was cry. I cried looking at the unconscious figure lying on the ground, whom I loved the most. The person I looked up to and the person who was my everything.
Few feet away from his right hand, I see a smashed cardboard box, lying on the ground, unattended. And that's when I realise that I am the reason. I am the reason my father is lying lifeless on the ground, I am the reason my mother is crying her eyes out and I am the reason we might lose the most precious person in the world.
Regret, guilt and panic courses through me as I kneel down beside my father and shake him continuously, hoping that he would wake up.
"Papa, wake up. Please papa. I am sorry. I will never ask you for gifts anymore. I promise. Wake up daddy, please."
"Please papa, I am sorry. Forgive me."
I suddenly sit up straight on my bed and look at the dark confines of my bedroom. I can feel that I am breathing heavily, with sweat dripping down my face. Breathing gets even more difficult for me as the vivid images of these unpleasant memories come crashing down my brain. I feel as if darkness is engulfing the entire world and I hear a very loud ringing sound in my ears. I try to speak but no voice comes out of my mouth. I feel as if someone is holding my neck tight and choking me. I try to take deep breaths and calm myself down but I am not able to avoid the incoming panic attack. The image of the truck crashing into my father's fragile body plays repeatedly in my head and I try my best to push away all the negative thoughts that consume my mind. I clutch onto my bedsheets in a tight grip and shut my eyes tightly, in a hope that all these images would vanish. But I fail.
So, I immediately start counting numbers from One. I concentrate fully on counting the numbers out loud, to try and bring my mind out of those horrific thoughts. With each number, I feel my voice becoming steadier and my breathing getting slower and steadier. By the time I reach Sixty, I feel better.
I sigh softly and get off my bed. It has been over 16 years since the incident and yet, it has been haunting my dreams continuously. But however long it has been, it will never change the truth.
That I am the reason my father is dead.
I indirectly killed my father.
I am a murderer.
And it happened on my birthday.
If I hadn't asked for the car that day, my father would be alive and we, the Rajvanshs' would be a happy family, like every other normal family. Every morning, my father would probably be cracking silly jokes while reading the newspaper just to make mom and I laugh, then Mom would serve breakfast for us, she would hug and kiss me before I leave for work. We would have been perfect.
But we aren't. And it is because of me.
Even though the Maheshwaris have helped me fill that void, I can't help but think of how happy we would have been, if not for me.
I sigh and make my way downstairs, towards the kitchen. I take a fully filled water bottle from the fridge and gulp the entire content in a matter of seconds.
The death of my father was a huge setback for our family. For the first few years, I had nightmares almost everyday. I remember all those sleepless nights, where I would try my best not to sleep, just so that I don't experience the nightmare again. I slowly became this sleep deprived and silent kid, who would not mingle with new people. But with time, the frequency of the nightmares got less, and I got better at socializing. Ever since I returned back to Rajkot four months ago, I did not have a nightmare- until today.
My mother on the other hand, handled depression differently. She indulged herself in a lot of work, started her own company and built her own empire within ten years. Work was her get-away and it still is.
Back then, we were a lower middle-class family, with lots of love and happiness, surviving with whatever we had. Whereas now, we are one of the richest families of Rajkot, but broken in all forms.
I laugh humorlessly at how a tragedy can flip our lives upside-down.
Meanwhile, the relationship I share with my mother turned bitter. She became cold towards me, did not hug and kiss me every night before sleep and did not make and feed me my favourite Halwa that she used to make especially for me. She would talk to me only if it is absolutely necessary and pushed me away from her. That is probably because she recognized me for who I am, the killer of my father and the love of her life.
Even though Nanu has told me multiple times that I am not responsible for what happened, I couldn't help but believe the other way round, because of the way my mother behaves with me.
Even though Mishti and Kunal know that my father died in a car accident, they do not know that I am the reason behind it. And I will not tell them.
I was able to handle the bitter look on my mother's face all these years.
But I would not be able to handle the disgust in Mishtipie's eyes, that have only looked at me with admiration all these years.
I would never be able to handle it.
***
Hey guys! This is Chapter 17!
This is one of the most difficult chapters for me to write. A peek into Abir's life!
I hope you guys liked it.
Thank you!