MishBir: Someone You Love(d)

|6|Balm And Wounds

Sitting on the bench near the bus stop, Abir exhaled, his heart getting heavier by each passing second. There were two school of thoughts running through him- One, where he didn't want to miss this chance of being near Mishti, take in her essence as much as he could, without Kunal or say, anyone's prying eyes, and hope that it would help him darg himself through the rest of his life, and the Other - where he wanted to run away so far that Mishti's hand in someone's else's hand would become a far fetched memory, where every thought of Mishti being someone else's would not draw a stake through his heart. His aviators did a really good job at hiding the anguish in his eyes, but the way he would shiver every now and then, clenching and unclenching his fist, anybody could tell the depths of his despair.

Well, anybody except the people who claimed to love him, who called himself his family and were either so oblivious of the world of ache he was struggling to breathe in, or didn't care enough.

Either way, it only broke him further, if there was anything left to break, at that.

Standing a few feet away, Mishti and Nishant stared at Abir and his forlorn figure, clearly at battle with himself. Nishant looked at Mishti and squuezed her shoulders, and Mishti smiled back, drawing strength from his comforting gesture.

"How long until the bus leaves?", Rajshree, who was standing beside them, questioned and Mishti took a glimpse of her Badi Maa whose eyes were stuck at Abir.

"Half an hour".

That's all Rajshree wanted to hear - that she had time, that there was still time and she could help her son gather himself back. Nodding at Mishti, she walked towards the very bench, while Mishti and Nishant hid themselves from the site.

Abir was too lost in his thoughts to notice a familiar figure coming closer and sitting beside him.

"So, now my son won't even give me a greeting?", Rajshree spoke, trying hard to keep her voice normal, and making it sound like a tease.

The warmth in the voice penetrated the strong walls of his thoughts and he jerked his head to look at her.

"Badi Maa?", Abir could not keep the surprise out of his voice, it was more like a shock. He could not believe she was sitting right beside him.

All these months, they have met every week, but she hadn't faced him, or looked at him even once. He had craved for her, as much as he had craved for Mishti, but he then also taught himself to be satisfied with whatever specks of care he was getting from his Badi Maa, especially when he believed he didn't deserve even that.

Rajshree looked at him and shook her head. Slowly she raised her hand and pulled away the aviators off his eyes, and Abir closed them immediately. He didn't know what to say, how to explain the tears that were wetting his lower eyelashes, the dark circles that told the stories about his sleepless nights or the anguish clearly shining in his eyes.

Rajshree didn't say anything, lest she would break down herself. In that moment, she cursed herself for not trusting him enough, for not seeing what was so visible all these days. Mishti's inconsolable tears had blurred her vision too, and as much as she knew it wasn't entirely wrong on her part, she also now know that it wasn't right either.

She stretched her hand and held Abir's right hand in between hers, and then squeezed it lightly. All that Abir was holding in broke at that, and he turned to keep his head on her shoulder, despite the fact that it was highly uncomfortable physically, given he was so tall and he had to lean a bit too much.

Before he knew Rajshree had wrapped her arm around him and he clutched her saree with his free hand, letting his tears flow in her bosom. She rubbed his back and held him together, and Abir couldn't even express how grateful he was.