"What may have been is just a possibility, 

a representation of what could have been now. 

What's gone however is gone,

What's done cannot be undone.

You may dream of something better,

That you had seen for your future.

You can wish and you can seek,

but there's one thing that can never face defeat;

it's what people call fate or destiny."

-Elegiac_Damsel.

________

21st September 

Third person's point of view:

The rain had bid adieu to the City of Dreams. Autumn was settling in, but the weather was far from pleasant. The city of seven islands, located off the coast of the Arabian Sea, witnessed 2 months of barely felt autumn, the weather resembling the same heat and humidity as one would experience during the summer months. The festival of Ganesh Chaturthi had just drawn to a close, after an 11-day-long celebration across the state of Maharashtra, and its capital city, Mumbai. 

There had been no celebration in the Mukherjee household. The festival had rung in very quietly, given they were in mourning. The almighty elephant-headed deity, the remover of all obstacles, had been worshipped with a simple lit incense stick and an earthen lamp. A single modak, his favourite sweet, had been offered to his image. The housing society where they lived, however, had collected money from each flat to ensure 5 days of festivities, the idol being a big one with a priest coming in twice to make obeisance to the Lord and to offer sweets to Him. Anindita had been home throughout the week, staying by Apurba's side, going in every day to BKC for a few hours to impart flight training classes.

It was a particularly hot morning. The maidservant, who usually came by twice to clean, had taken the day off, citing the impending delivery of her sister. The house was thus quiet with Anindita and Apurba in their respective rooms, one of them lost amidst the pages of a Bengali novel, her bleak world within the four walls of the home seeming emptier and slower than ever before, while the other was lost in the jungle of thoughts. 

A tensed and worried Anindita was frantically checking the status of her balance in each of her savings accounts on her iPad. She was sitting with an old notebook and a pen, using the last page to scribble in a manner incoherent and incomprehensible to any outsider. She knew she needed to spend more time with her mother now that her father was gone, or she would inevitably fall into a depression due to loneliness. She was in a severe dilemma given her job as an international civil aviation pilot and the long days of staying away from home. 

There were a lot of factors that she would have to consider. If she flew less frequently, it would only result in less income for herself, thus bringing down her monthly budget for household and medical expenditures subsequently. If she chose to fly domestic instead of international, she would either have to move her base to Dubai if she wanted to continue with Emirates, or she would have to get herself a job with some other airlines, something that she wasn't keen on doing.

Her forehead was creased again, the prominent vein in her temple starting to pulsate, her body reacting to the mental state of her mind that screamed stress. Her phone vibrated, causing her to shift her attention from the screen of her iPad. It was Satyaki calling.

"Hello?" she spoke into the phone, receiving the call.

"Hi. Good afternoon. I just had some time off before OPD resumes, so I called you. Can we talk?" He asked politely.

Hearing her quiet hum signifying her consent, he proceeded, "It is Dugga's birthday the day after, that is this Saturday. Would you and Apurba auntie be free for dinner?" 

"Your daughter's birthday is the day after tomorrow," Anindita replied, processing. She had forgotten something that she was just reminded of, thanks to his phone call. Hurriedly, she started, "It's your birthday today, isn't it? I am so sorry. It slipped out of my mind, and if I am being honest, I would have forgotten had it not been for your call. Here's wishing you many happy returns. And speaking of Saturday, I am in town, and it would be an absolute pleasure for me and Ma to be a part of the celebrations, but are you sure you want us there? I mean, it is supposed to be a close-knit affair, right? I don't know if it would be weird or..."

Her voice trailed off, conveying her hesitance, causing Satyaki to chuckle on the other end of the line. "Slow down, Captain," he replied, chuckling. "First things first, thank you for your wishes. I am just growing old and older. Secondly, coming to the point of my daughter's birthday dinner, it would just be my mother and me along with her, so it is a close-knit affair, but I know you inexplicably connect with her, and that she is happy around you. So yes, Captain, I am sure I want you and your mother to be there. Please don't make it weird just because you think it is weird. Auntie gets lonely at home, as is natural, and as you said, you are in town, so I am not taking any excuses."

"Location and time?" she asked, sceptical despite his reassurance. 

"Taj Mahal Palace. Rendezvous in the lobby at 19.00 hours IST, " he replied, causing her to laugh. "I hope you both don't mind Asian cuisine. It's my daughter's favourite."

"I'll be there on time, sir. Over and out, " she replied, a smile playing on her lips. "Have a good day."

She stayed on the line while he returned her salutations and disconnected the call, her mind immediately trying to brainstorm what she would get Agamani as a birthday present. 

She had known the child long enough to know that she was a lot more isolated than children of her age, given the ordeal she had suffered at an exceptionally young age. She was reserved and had an affinity for books. Despite all the close interactions that the two of them had, Anindita drew an absolute blank at trying to decipher what she could gift her. Thinking back to her childhood days, to her birthdays as a kid, the only presents that she could think back to were some new clothes that Agastya and Apurba would get for her, diligently, each year, and the Shakalaka boom boom pencil, the scented eraser, and the glow in the dark pencil stand that Anurag bought her. Notwithstanding the similarities between Agamani and herself, Anindita shook her head, realising that she couldn't get the little girl a gift based on what she would have wanted at that age, given how starkly different their upbringing, lifestyle, and background were. Despite challenges with acceptance, appearance, and existence that were common to them both, many such apparent dissimilarities made her doubt the depth of her relationship with the little girl, questioning if it would be appropriate for her and her mother to be a part of the celebrations that had initially been planned for immediate family only. 

She shook her head, cutting short her thoughts. She was overthinking. Perhaps it was her paranoia kicking in, her mind shutting down on its own accord, trying to detach from a gradually forming relationship. She had seen enough betrayal and hurt already. The last thing she wanted was to forge a deep association with someone yet again to relive what she had already gone through.

"Ani, what should I make for lunch?" She heard Apurba ask aloud from the kitchen, the crockery already making a sound, the sound of running water from the tap distinct, probably from her mother's habit of rinsing each vessel and utensil before usage. 

She sighed, keeping her iPad and phone aside, getting up. She wasn't about to sit at one spot and allow her mother to strain herself whilst she was home.

"I am coming, Ma," she replied, her voice loud, ricocheting off the walls of her room, causing her to wince. "I am the one making lunch today. You are not making anything."

...

It was twilight.

The sun had just begun its descent beneath the horizon when Anindita drove up to Phoenix Market City in Kurla. After a few hours at her part-time job in BKC, she finally had the time to check out shops at the mall, attempting to get something for the little girl.

She had an idea for a thoughtful present that she planned to give alongside books that the girl would hopefully enjoy reading. She made a pit stop at the book store, picking out a few books, abridged and illustrated versions of classics for kids and a few more books that she felt Agamani would enjoy reading, especially the outer space encyclopaedia which had enthralling pictures. She next visited a children's clothing and accessories shop, biting her lip trying to figure out what she could pick out for the girl while trying to assess the size that she had to get. All the clothes in the shop were attractive, and Anindita felt like a little girl all over again as she regarded the frilly clothes, the princess-like gowns available for little girls, and the matching accessories and shoes. She sighed, pausing to caress a specific dress that she could envision herself yearning for as a kid, one that she wouldn't blink an eye to before purchasing for the non-existent daughter she had wanted at some point in her life. Turning towards the plethora of options, she finally found a jumpsuit, navy blue and yellow, one that she felt would be perfect for Agamani.

               Source: Myntra; Retrieved: 25th October 2021, 11.05 pm

              Link: https://www.myntra.com/jumpsuit/lilpicks/lilpicks-girls-yellow--navy-blue-striped-basic-jumpsuit/9082253/buy.

Purchasing it, she chose to forfeit the gift-wrapped version, planning to wrap the presents by herself later at home. Her next stop was a personalized gift store.

Having been left alone, helpless and often without someone to share things with, Anindita had turned to reflective journaling in her early twenties. She strongly advocated writing about her day, the important events and decisions, so she could be her listener, her judge. Humans fail terribly as listeners, she had learnt over time, with age and experience. She had thus chosen to befriend the pages of her diary, allowing herself to taint their simplicity with her complex thoughts, giving her enough time and opportunity to retrospect, reflect, and introspect.

Hoping that Agamani would appreciate having a friend among the pages of a blank diary that she was free to scribble down her thoughts in, she purchased one, getting the store clerk to engrave onto the cover in an elegant font that she had found online, the words, 'To someone beautiful; with or without a mirror.'

Font generated with the help of: https://www.fontspace.com.

...

23rd September

Dressed elegantly in a classy fashion, donning a long evening dress that came down to her shin, Anindita was standing in the lobby of the Taj Mahal Palace hotel nervously. Apurba, who had never had the chance to visit the heritage hotel, the first 5-star hotel of India, before, was looking around enthralled, taken in by the grand interior and splendour. 

"This is so beautiful, sweetheart," she whispered. "You remember when your father and I would bring you and Anurag to see this hotel and the Gateway of India once every month?"

Her daughter smiled, nodding. She remembered how she would hold on to her father's hand and walk right from the Churchgate station, where they would reach via a local train from Ghatkopar to Apollo Bunder in Colaba, eager to visit the very spot that attracted tourists from all over the world. Her father would never fail to treat her and Anurag to a malai kulfi, something that would inevitably melt in her hands, staining her clothes, causing Apurba to grimace at the mess that she would have to scrub clean. 

"I can't believe I am sitting inside Taj," her mother whispered again, looking around. 

"It's not the first time you have visited a five-star hotel, Ma," Anindita replied, rolling her eyes at her mother's kiddish awe. She had taken her father, Agastya, and Apurba to the Sahara Star hotel for dinner a few years ago, right after she had attained enough financial stability. The visit had been an overwhelming experience for her, one light and proud moment, disbelieving after all that they had faced together. She sighed, thinking back to the night, wishing fervently that she had had the chance to visit more places with Agastya before his demise. 

"Hi there, Anindita auntie," Agamani's voice reached both Anindita and Apurba, garnering their attention as they turned to greet the little girl who was dressed sweetly, befitting the occasion.

Anindita crouched to her level, pecking Agamani's cheek as the girl embraced her, whispering, "Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you, auntie," she replied, smiling up at the woman, her eyes gleaming in excitement as she regarded the wrapped presents in Anindita and Apurba's hands. "What did you bring for me?"

"Dugga, that isn't polite," Satyaki reprimanded his daughter, who grimaced in reply. He was dressed in a semi-formal shirt worn over denim. The scholarly pair of spectacles that framed his face gave him a distinguished and dignified look. He was standing next to his mother, Rohini, with his hand on her shoulder.

"Happy birthday, child," Apurba wished, extending her hand holding one of the wrapped presents. "Thank you, Dida (grandma)," a jubilant Agamani replied, eagerly taking hold of the gift, attempting to feel it to guess what it could be. 

"Dugga," her father sighed, warningly. "Come on, kiddo, we are getting late for our dinner reservation."

She nodded, holding on to Anindita's arm. The group of 4 people with an overjoyed birthday girl made their way to Golden Dragon, the only exclusively Chinese restaurant in the hotel. Given it was Anindita's first time in the hotel, she couldn't help but look around. Following the 26/11 terrorist attacks, there had been ghastly images left from the aftermath of the attack that had been circulated worldwide by the media. She shuddered as the images came to her mind, contradicting the peaceful setting of the hotel at that moment. The lobby seemed peaceful, clean, and pleasant, unlike the bloodstained floors and walls, and the vandalised furniture that she could recall from newspaper articles and media coverage. 

"I hope you haven't got her something too extravagant," she heard Satyaki ask her, his query generic, clearly concerned about what she had got for his daughter.

She shook her head, hiding a smile. "Have you been here before?" she asked him, looking around at the long corridor that had pictures of dignitaries and celebrities who had stayed at the iconic hotel over the decades. "Where is the grand staircase? I had seen pictures of it on the internet and in the newspapers."

Satyaki chuckled lowly, amused at the look of excitement and curiosity on Anindita's face, "Yes, I've come here before for quite a few medical conferences and events. And about the staircase, let's get inside the restaurant first. I'll take you there between the courses."

...

True to his word, Satyaki had guided Anindita and Agamani to the grand staircase. Being just a kid, Agamani had been unaware and ignorant of the heritage and history of the very spot, of the bust of J.R.D. Tata on the landing. Vaguely aware of the fact that an NSG Commando, Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan, had lost his life after being ambushed near the same spot, Anindita had felt a strange shiver down her spine. Looking up, she could see the Japanese hotel, Wasabi, in whose kitchens the final encounter had taken place, where the surviving four terrorists had sought refuge and had been eventually gunned down. She took pictures on her cellphone of the interior and of the munchkin, who posed in different positions, something she had probably learnt from television shows, showing off her new dress. 

"Can I click a picture for you, Anindita auntie?" Agamani asked her once she was satisfied with the number of pictures her father and Anindita had taken of herself. "I love your dress."

The woman politely refused. She wasn't comfortable with her pictures being clicked. She couldn't even recall when she had last stood before a camera willingly or with a smile on her face. Perhaps it had been at her cousin's wedding. 

"You won't be coming here every day," Satyaki told her. "Maybe it wouldn't be bad to capture the moment of you being here for the first time."

Anindita contemplated what he had said. While she knew he was correct and that it wouldn't be vanity on her part to get a picture clicked, she couldn't express the vulnerable part of her, the inhibitions that were stopping her. She reached out to give him her phone, so he could capture a picture, but immediately withdrew her hand, having second thoughts. 

"No, leave it be, I am not comfortable clicking pictures," she confessed in a dismissing tone. "Why don't you stand with your princess? Six years of being a father for you! An occasion that deserves celebration, don't you think? Let me capture the moment."

A few more pictures later, and with one that Agamani insisted on clicking with Anindita, with the woman's hand on her shoulder, the ashen face that had once radiated beauty graced with a mild smile directed at the camera,  the three of them made their way back to where Apurba and Rohini were making small talk. 

"Would you like to have a drink?" Satyaki asked Anindita quietly, knowing that neither their mothers nor his daughter could hear them. 

Anindita made a gesture with her eyes, glancing at her mother, conveying to him that she wouldn't drink in her presence. He smiled mildly at that, gesturing towards the door. He wasn't about to drink in his mother or daughter's presence either.

Excusing themselves and leaving Agamani to talk non-stop with the two elderly women, Anindita and Satyaki made their way towards the bar.

"I never imagined I would be entering a bar in a five-star with my doctor of all people," Anindita commented as she took a seat on a high barstool, her elbows resting on the counter.

"An occasional drink doesn't hurt," he replied, shrugging. "I would be a hypocrite if I said otherwise. However, there have been patients whom I have treated in the past who had occasions almost every day of the week. That kind of occasional drinking is a big no-no. Anyway, what is it that you would like to drink? It's on me."

"Scotch," Anindita replied. "Glenfiddich on the rocks, and no, thank you. I think I can pay for my drink at least. You did not invite us to this, but for dinner, " She continued, refusing politely, pointing at the bar counter, gesticulating herself.

"Have you got any problems with a friend offering you something?" he returned, his eyebrows slightly scrunched, inquisitively. "It's alright to accept things at times, Anindita. I know you are used to getting things on your own, but do make an exception at times. Today is one of those days. "

Glaring at him, she relented, her face relaxing into a smile as she turned to the bartender, who was asking for her order and Satyaki's. He placed an order for a Caipirovska, a cocktail that used vodka.

"I got you a pen, by the way," Anindita said, once they both had raised a toast and taken a sip of their respective drinks. "It is amidst Dugga's presents. Probably with her diary, since I purchased both from the same store. I couldn't figure out what else I could get for you, so I figured you would at least be able to sign your prescriptions with the pen and that it would be used."

"Thank you," he replied. "That was quite thoughtful."

"I hope you didn't drive here," Anindita commented casually. "You are drinking, so I hope you have no plans that involve driving in an inebriated state."

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Those daily soaps and movies do no good to people. It takes more than a couple of drinks to get someone to go bonkers while driving. And to answer your question, I am not driving after drinking. I had to call in a chauffeur tonight for Dugga and Ma to come here. I took a cab from the hospital as I had got delayed. You did not drive here, did you?"

"No, of course not," Anindita stated in an incredulous tone, shocked that he would even suggest that. "I have a better sense of responsibility than that. We came by cab. Some rat got into my car's engine and decided that the wires connected to the battery had delicious insulation. Lo and behold, my car landed in the garage and subsequently, Rs. 10000 vanished into thin air from my pocket."

"Ouch," he replied, shaking his head in amusement. "That sounds like a lot of frustration right there. Why don't you speak to Dugga once? I am sure she can explain to Jerry that wires aren't supposed to be edible."

She sipped her drink, rolling her eyes in reply. They both continued sitting in silence, the sound of the ice in their drinks clanking against the glasses and the noise from the surroundings doing the only talking. 

"Could I ask you something?" Anindita asked, unsure. At his nod of approval, she continued, "I couldn't help but wonder why you would celebrate a little girl's birthday in such an extravagant place. Don't you think it would be best if she spent this age trying to have an evening party with her friends instead of coming out for dinner at a place she probably won't even remember in the future or know the value of? "

Satyaki sighed, visibly disturbed by her question. He took his time to reply, stirring his drink by swirling the glass slightly and then pausing to take a sip. "I know you are right," he began. "She probably wouldn't understand the worth of the location we're in."She wouldn't even remember, but honestly, Anindita, there's very little in my life that gives me joy. Dugga, my daughter, is the only reason why I find the strength to live. You know how isolated she is. She is lonely. If I ask her about friends and if she would like to invite them to a party, she probably won't even have two names." He paused to take another sip, looking up at Anindita who was listening to him with rapt attention, "It's just one day in a year that she looks forward to. I have her with me because she was born, and this day has a lot of significance in my life. It signifies for me, the beginning of fatherhood and the inception of this blessing I call my daughter. I let go of all my thoughts about how much I'm spending or where I'm spending it. Worth becomes a vague, irrelevant word. There isn't a lot I spend on or engage in. Neither of us at home indulges in very expensive activities, so I let my princess's birthday be the day I can turn a blind eye to any sorrow or regret that I might foster deep within. "

She nodded, unable to come up with a reply, knowing that she had struck a raw nerve unwittingly.

"I never got you a birthday present," he said out of nowhere, the thought probably having struck just then. "With what happened with your father, I guess there wasn't any time, but I promise, I had planned to get something for you."

She scoffed, sipping her drink, savouring the rich flavour of the imported and aged scotch. "I don't like celebrating my birthday, so thank you, but I am glad I didn't get a present. I am a bit wary of gifts," she replied shortly. The involuntary shudder of her body at the word 'gifts' did not go unnoticed by Satyaki. It was only then that he remembered Anindita's broken voice that had confessed to him over the phone that she had been attacked on her birthday, around 8 years ago. Maybe that's why she was wary of gifts.

He changed the topic abruptly, steering the conversation in a different direction, "I never asked you this before, but Anindita, do you smoke?"

She shook her head, replying in the negative, but the faint blush that crept on her face gave her away, causing Satyaki to laugh as she looked away.

"I used to smoke," she admitted reluctantly. "But I wasn't a chain-smoker. I just tried it back in IIT, and with the stress and the projects and Vivas and exams, it was tough to not smoke once in a while. I promise though, I haven't taken a drag in years."

"I see," he replied, sipping on his drink, looking at her straight in the eye. "Okay, fine, I last took a drag two weeks ago," she conceded, her eyes downcast and her lips pursed. "I was very stressed and worried, and the recent events were on my mind, so I turned to it. But I promise it wasn't more than a cigarette or two."

"One or two?" he asked, clearly enjoying the interrogation, amused at seeing this side of Anindita which wasn't as stoic and inexpressive.

"Have you always been this passive-aggressive?" she asked him in frustration. She couldn't remember the number of cigarettes that she had ended up smoking, but she was sure that she wouldn't give in to her temptations and weaknesses henceforth.

He chuckled in response, giving in to his amusement, permitting himself to be light-hearted in her presence, "I am a doctor. Not a single patient that comes to me tells me about all the symptoms and problems at once, so yes, being patient and passive-aggressive does help. What about you?"

"I have always had a vicious temper," she recollected ruefully. Her lips curved downwards, probably a memory coming into the picture in her mind, causing her regret. "It's not like I am bad-tempered," she continued, sighing heavily. "I just had, or more accurately, have a very short temper. If I lose my mind, I would probably end up saying whatever's on my mind and realise the consequences a minute later. It isn't like I lose my senses or sanity, neither am I destructive, but there have been a few instances after which I felt I could have held it back. I regret destroying things that once. "

"What did you destroy?" he asked quietly, knowing deep within what her reply would be. "My face. A part of myself. A part of my life, "she replied, her voice choked.

He was quiet, even as he brought his hand to rest atop Anindita's in an attempt to provide comfort. He had questions, born out of curiosity, questions that had been on his mind ever since he had met her. She knew his story, but there was so little that he knew about her.

"What happened to me," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper and her finger pointing at her face, "was retaliation." She sucked in a deep breath, pausing to sip the last of her scotch, gesturing to the bartender for a repeat. "It was my best friend, Vidushi's then-boyfriend."

Satyaki listened quietly, his hand still on hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand slowly, in a comforting manner.

"Piyush," she choked out the name, gasping, probably on the verge of an unanticipated panic attack. "Stop Anindita," he interrupted, realising the trauma that she was seemingly reliving. "Stop and don't take his name. Take a deep breath. Inhale through your nostrils and exhale through your mouth. "

She followed his instructions, breathing inaudibly, her throat quivering at her movements, her eyes glossy. "Come on," Satyaki encouraged her, asking her to take another deep breath. "Breathe in again."

It took her time to stabilise, to keep the unshed tears within, to refrain from breaking down. Eventually, even as she came back to her senses, no longer feeling breathless, the words escaped her mouth in a flurry, her sentences running into one another, "He had been trying to coerce Vidushi into engaging in sexual acts with him. He had been trying to demean her by saying derogatory things that had been taking a toll on her mental health. She had refused to give in, confiding in me that she wasn't sure about her relationship with the man, which is why she had her inhibitions with him. We had our final examinations going on then, graduation was a mere month away, and all of us had been slogging hard. We had sanctioned leaves from our internships and college classes, prompting us all to huddle together in the hostel and spend most of the time studying. He came in one day in a wasted, inebriated state, behaving in a rowdy manner and even pushing the old watchman, who stood at the gate of the girls' hostel. He started screaming for Vidushi and when she went out, my roommate, Nakshatra, and I followed her, knowing that things weren't good. He started abusing her in front of everyone. She had started sobbing. The warden had been on the terrace getting the water tank repaired, so Nakshatra had gone up to call her. The entire hostel had gathered around, witnessing the scene in silence. I couldn't take it any longer. I had to intervene. I asked Vidushi to step back and gave that guy a piece of my mind. He was reeking of whatever he was intoxicated with, and was slurring as he spoke, his anger now directed towards me. He called Vidushi and me by every derogatory name possible till I couldn't take any more. My temper had risen to a terrible extent. I slapped him hard without giving it another thought. Everyone around was taken aback. I have always had a temper, but I have never had any violent tendencies. That was the first and the last time I ever lost my temper that way."

"And?" he asked, knowing that there had to be disciplinary repercussions for such an episode on a college campus.

Anindita sighed, returning to her drink, her stoic expression back, the vulnerability that had graced her features a while ago dissipating as she straightened her features. "We were sent down to the dean. He was suspended for 3 weeks while I was suspended for 3 days, which was thankfully revoked when the real reason for my actions came to light. Had the suspension not been revoked, I would have had to sit out of my final exams and I wouldn't have graduated. There are brief moments when I wonder why I didn't keep a lid on my temper. I cannot stop contemplating, imagining the various possibilities that could have been my life. Maybe, I wouldn't have had to face anything that day had I remained mum."

The atmosphere cleared then. Anindita returned to her quiet self, downing the remaining part of her second drink and clearing her throat. Satyaki sipped his quietly, absorbing the words, a part of her past that she had thrown across to him. 

"It has been 30 minutes already," he commented finally, taking a look at his watch. "Shall we get going?"

He inquired about the bill and gave a hefty tip for the bartender before exiting with Anindita without saying anything. They ate supper together with Agamani and their mothers. 

At the end of the night, Agamani cut a chocolate cake which had been prepared particularly for the occasion by the restaurant. The little girl had sliced the cake and fed herself and her father first, then the two elderly women, and finally, she had held out a piece for Anindita, who accepted it with a smile on her face and embraced the girl shortly after, feeding her a piece of the chocolaty goodness with affection.

"Thank you for making the day special for me," the small girl said, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugged Anindita, stunning everyone in the room."What's the matter, sweetheart?" She questioned her, stroking her head lovingly, putting her into her arms and moving her away so she wouldn't be bothered by the people surrounding her. She pulled open the restroom door and sat Agamani in one of the chairs maintained inside near the vanity mirror for anyone who needed to change or touch up their make-up or even arrange their belongings. Grabbing a few tissue papers, Anindita kneeled in front of Agamani, dabbing at her eyes carefully, looking at her in a concerned manner.

"Are you okay, baby?"

The little girl nodded, her little head with the simple hair updo that her grandmother had done for her bobbed. She looked vulnerable and sad.

"It's a happy day, darling," Anindita explained. "You mustn't cry on your birthday. Wipe your tears. Aren't you strong?" Carefully dabbing at her eyes and wiping her nose, she continued looking at the little girl, hoping to get her to talk. "Tell me what is wrong," she urged her softly.

"I just missed Mumma," she confessed, tears falling freely from her eyes. "This is the first time someone else came to my birthday party. I feel happy, but I feel sad too. I am happier than I am sad, but, I miss her."

"Do you remember what I had told you once?" Anindita asked Agamani, smiling mildly. "I told you that the stars will stop twinkling if you cry. Do you want that to happen?"

She shook her head, her expression still one of intense grief that Anindita had never hoped to see in a little girl. "I won't cry now," she spoke out, gulping with each word, recovering from her emotional breakdown. "But why should we not cry on our birthdays? Does God become angry with us if we do?"

"Birthdays are meant to be happy occasions, sweetheart," Anindita answered softly, trying her best to keep her traumatic experiences at bay. "My mother used to tell me as a kid that it is a blessing to be born, to be able to live. We can wake up each day, look into the mirror and welcome a new day, a day that may bring forth every kind of happiness possible. Birthdays are meant to celebrate your life, baby. You may have 99 different reasons to cry and to feel sad, but you will always have one reason to find hope and happiness; solely because you live." She looked at the little girl's confused face, smiling again, continuing in a gentle tone. "I know you won't understand everything that I say, baby. You are too young now. Don't cry tonight. Your mother's watching from up there. You are her baby, someone she gave birth to. Seeing you cry will make her very sad. Your father's here today. Your grandmother is. They love you, Dugga. They never want to see tears in your eyes. They live to see you smile."

"Papa scolds me a lot," Agamani complained, crossing her arms as she pouted. "He scolds me and makes me cry."

Anindita laughed, much to the little girl's annoyance and surprise. "Why are you laughing, Anindita auntie?" She asked her indignantly.

"He loves you, sweetheart," Anindita replied. "He may scold you when you are wrong. He may scold you if you did something incorrectly, but never doubt that the man out there is your father. His world revolves around you. There are many things on his mind, things you would understand when you grow up, start earning, and have a family. Don't ever think that he doesn't love you, Dugga. He listens to you when you want him to listen, even though he's had a tiring day at work, and returns home late. There's not a moment that he doesn't love you. You just need to understand this like a good and mature girl. Alright?"

"Okay," Agamani replied reluctantly, looking down at her shoes, probably realising her actions and the breakdown that she had just had. "Do I look beautiful, Auntie?" She asked her suddenly, her eyes, slightly red and glossy from the remnants of her crying, meeting Anindita's gaze, inquiring tentatively.

"You look beautiful," she answered sincerely. "You look like the most beautiful girl I have ever seen." 

"Thank you", she replied blushing slightly. "You look beautiful too, Anindita auntie," she returned the compliment. 

"Shall we get back now?" Anindita asked Agamani, smiling now that she had returned to being her jovial self. "Maybe we can get some ice cream for ourselves."

...

Finishing the last course of their dinner, the dessert alongside a slice of cake that Agamani had cut a while ago, Anindita was bombarded with questions from the little girl. She found it incredulous to find someone who preferred vanilla ice cream to chocolate.

"I haven't been much of a fan of chocolate either," Satyaki spoke, addressing Anindita when his daughter quieted, savouring her ice cream instead. "Dugga gets it from her mother, her love for chocolate. And, um, what was it that made Dugga break down this way?"

"A variety of reasons," Anindita replied. "The absence of her mother from her life, the absence of friends. It makes her feel very lonely and quite overwhelmed, Satyaki. Maybe it would get better with time, as she gradually builds up confidence and learns to make more friends and acquaintances."

He sighed in frustration, looking at his daughter, who was chattering away animatedly, seated across from him, the remnants of her episode seemingly non-existent. "I cannot solve these problems now, can I, Anindita?" He asked rhetorically. "She is a kid, well versed and well-read. She can talk when she wants to talk, but I cannot force her to make friends and I cannot force other kids to be friends with her. What is it that I can do?"

Anindita shook her head. She could understand his reasons for feeling helpless, but some things had to be learned with time. This had to be his daughter's journey to make. "Leave her be, Satyaki," She said quietly. "Your daughter's social skills depend largely on her ability to interact and on her confidence. The girl I had met a few months ago wouldn't have looked up at the waiter who bothered to wish her when he got the cake. She looked up, thanked him, and smiled. I know it seems irrelevant and insignificant to most, but trust me, this is saying a lot. Take it from me, someone who has suffered alienation from herself. If she can learn facing herself, her reflection in the mirror, there's little in the world that she cannot face."

"Maybe you are right," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly in dejection, even as he looked across to his daughter, his eyes gentle, the love he had for her was apparent in the tender look. His gaze lingered on her for a while. The baby that he had welcomed into the world had grown. The same little fingers that had closed around his little finger while she would drift to sleep, closed around the fork that she was using to eat with. The feel of her delicate soft skin from when she had been a baby was etched into his memory. He had marvelled at how fragile his little girl was, someone breathing, someone he and his wife had brought into the world, together. Her skin was still soft, the eyes that had looked up at him blankly were now bright, but one look at the flaw that marred a part of her face and jaw still pained him, burnt his heart, reminding him of the ordeal his little girl had to face. He looked away from her, clenching his eyes shut for a brief moment, opening them to meet Anindita's gaze.

Her face was marred, scarred from the aftermath of what a psychopath had done to her years ago, but if one looked closely, her face didn't remind of the beauty that she had lost once upon a time to the incinerating bite of the acid. Instead, it reminded one of the strength, the strength she possessed today.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 30th October 2021

Author's note: 

Hi! I hope you all are doing well. Please do take care of yourselves and your loved ones. I am sorry for updating after so long.

Here's wishing you all a very Happy Deepawali in advance. May the lights of the festival reach out to everyone's heart, and may the warmth from the lamps beckon good health, fortune, and prosperity to our households.

Please take all precautions during the festivities.

Wear a mask, sanitise, but please keep away from fireworks if you are using a sanitiser. VACCINATE yourselves. Let's walk the path towards recovery together.

Thank you for giving Anindita's story a chance. Please do let me know what you think.

Stay safe!

With love,

Elegiac_Damsel

P.S. Take care :)

P.P.S. Please do VOTE, SHARE, and COMMENT if Reflection has been able to reflect a part of itself in your hearts.