One year later
12 October 2015
Maharajah Suite, Hotel Paradiso Delhi

Ishita stood silently in the lobby of the Maharajah suite, recalling the nights they had spent here a year ago. After their wedding reception.

So much had happened in the past year, since she had met Raman, since her marriage to him, so much had changed.

Her life before Raman... She could not even remember now what it had been like. She had been busy yes, secure in the love of her parents and her family, yes, but there had been something missing. Something she did not even knew existed until he had crashed into her life ( or she had crashed into his, she mused, remembering how he had rescued her from her crashed car in New Zealand).

She had been in love, or what she had thought was love, before. Yet it was only after she had met him that she had known what real love was. Soul searing love, the sort that nourishes and breathes life into you, that would devastate by its absence. The love that she could never have imagined in a million years would be hers.

And with that love had come another love. Another love she had never imagined she would have the fortune to experience. The love of a mother. The love of her daughter. Her Ruhi.

And now Adi too.

She sighed as she moved restlessly through the suite, finally subsiding onto one of the plush sofas in the living room.

Adi. Of all the changes that had been wrought in her life in the past year, Adi had to be the most challenging, the most difficult.

***********************************

She still remembered vividly the first day she had met Adi. It had been about two weeks after their wedding reception.

Those weeks had been spent in the cocoon of Raman's arms, her days busy with getting to know her new family and their routine, in doing all the little things that made her daughter smile in glee, and her nights replete with desire, breathless, free of inhibition, full of passion as she learnt to give and take pleasure.

Then the day had arrived when Adi came home from boarding school.

Raman had driven over to pick him up, alone; they had both thought it best. She had been waiting anxiously with the family when he had finally arrived home, anxiety wrought on his face as he had entered the apartment, followed by a smaller replica of himself.

She still remembered the look of hurt and anger in Adi's flashing brown eyes, eyes so like those of the father he professed to detest. She still remembered the way he held on to his backpack, as if clutching onto the only thing familiar in a suddenly alien world. She watched with dismay as he shrugged off the arm Raman attempted to put around his shoulder, as he tried to re- introduce him to his family.

But Raman had persevered.

"And this is Ruhi, Adi" he said softly, drawing out the little girl hiding behind her Ishima's sari. "She was a baby when you last saw her but she's a real dadima now"

"And this" he scooped up Ruhi in his arms and then drew Ishita to his side. "This is Ishita - Ruhi's mumma and my wife. Ruhi calls her Ishima, you can too"

"Never" Adi had shouted. "I have my mumma, I have Ashok dad, I don't want anyone else. I hate Ishita I hate her. I hate you. I hate you all."

That had been a year ago. And it had taken months to break down the barriers that Adi had built around himself.

She had tried to love him, initially because of Raman, because she could see how much Raman loved his son, and because she would have done anything, anything, to wipe away the hurt in her husband's eyes every time that Adi rejected him.

But then slowly, she had begun to love Adi for himself. Her heart ached for him every time she heard him trying to call Shagun, saw his face crumple at being told that Shagun once again was out or busy. He was just a little boy, and his face bore the same vulnerability as his father's, had the same hunger for love that had so far been unrequited.

And so she had set out to give him the love that he needed, even though he subjected her to rejection after rejection.

She had done nothing special, nothing extraordinary. She had simply been there for him. And she had loved him.

She had quietly picked up the clothes he had scattered in anger from his suitcase after his trip to see Shagun was cancelled by that woman - once again.

She had found out and made his faviroute foods and drinks, even though he would pretend not to like anything she made.

She had sat by his bedside for days when he was ill soon after his aborted visit to his mother, sponging his forehead, changing the soaked sheets, holding his hand through his nightmares. He had allowed her to soothe him in his delirium, and her heart had gushed with love as she had cuddled him. But when he woke up, he had pulled away.

She attended all his school functions, sat through all his extra curricular activities, even when a sneer was all she got in return.

In the process, she had won the hearts of Adi's dada and dadi too, and even his Simmi bua. And then one day, some six months ago, without knowing it, without realising it, she had won over Adi too.

It had happened when he had hurt his knee playing soccer in school. She had been watching at the sidelines with Ruhi and his dada and dadi. Raman was away in Singapore that week and she had found out about this game, and had made sure that the family came with her, over Adi's protests. Adi had twisted around to score the winning goal for his team in the dying minutes of the match and had fallen to the ground with a sickening thud, his knee coming into contact with the unyielding hard earth.

Heart in mouth, Ishita had watched him go down, had seen the pain on his face. Uncaring of the match officials, and even of what Adi himself might say, she had rushed to his side, cradling him in her arms as he lay on the ground. Her anguish had been clear on her face as she dusted the grime and blood off his knee with her sari. "Adi, tum theek ho na beta?" she had asked urgently through her tears, even as the referee and coach assured her Adi was fine.

And then through the thudding of her heart she had heard the most beautiful words. "I'm fine Ishima. But ab aap jao na" ( I'm fine Ishima. But please go now)

She had lifted her head then and stared at him, her tears flowing even faster, but now from joy, not anxiety.

"Kya ...kya kaha Adi?" (What did you say Adi?) She had whispered, not quite believing her ears.

"Abhi game baaki hai Ishima. Go na please." (The game is still going on Ishima. Go please)

He had called her Ishima. And that day she had known the serenity that comes from pure happiness. It had taken him a little longer with his papa, the scars of their relationship ran deep. But she had pushed them together, acted as their confidante, and loved them both until one day Adi had opened his heart to his papa too. And their family had been complete.

************************************

Ishita stared into the gathering dusk. Raman would be here soon, she realised. She had booked this suite for their anniversary, needing to be alone with him, with her husband. She remembered his promise to her a year ago - that they would spend all their anniversaries here. Have a weekend all to themselves.

She sighed again. Her husband. Obstinate. Hot headed. Moody. Infuriating. But loyal. Kind. Considerate. Loving. Devoted. And how she loved him. And she knew he loved her as much.

Their journey over the past year had been so complex, it was a marvel they had survived. And yet they had not just survived, but their love had grown, if that was possible.

Adi had been a huge part of the complexities of course. But there had been so much more...

*********************************************************

Last year, when they had married, Raman's career had just been taking off. The contract with Mr Mehta had propelled his company into the top tier of Marketing firms in India. He was more and more in demand from all over the corporate sector, and even though he had taken on more staff and had given Mihir additional responsibilities, he had to spend increasingly more time at work.

And that meant that the time he could give at home, to his family, was limited.

Ishita was content with her work - she asked for nothing more professionally than to be the busy paediatric dentist that she was. She had recognised early on though that Raman was intensely ambitious. He would settle for nothing but to be the very best. His ambition had been fuelled by Shaguns betrayal and his need to prove himself to her and the world. Although Ishita truly believed that Raman was now getting over that vindictive need to prove himself to his ex wife, she knew that his ambitions were not quite that simplistic. It may have started off as a desire to show up Ashok and Shagun, but that ambition was now part of his persona. He was a loving father and the best husband any woman could ask for, but he was also an extremely sharp, intelligent and ambitious businessman.

Ishita knew that if she demanded it of him, her husband would lessen his commitments at work, would hold himself back from his conquest of the marketing world. But she was determined not to make that demand. She had no wish to make Raman into some housebound joru ka ghulam; she wished every success in the world for him, and that meant supporting him with his work.

So she had accepted the fact that her time with Raman would be limited. She had also been very conscious of the fact that she should not be seen as monopolising Raman's time at home. She had made it very clear to Raman that she wanted him to focus on Adi during Adi's initial months in their home, until Adi felt at home, felt himself to be a part of their family. She herself had spent extra time with Ruhi, to make sure that the little girl did not feel neglected.

And then there had been the family - she knew that amma and appa had relied on her for many little things, and she did not want her marriage to lead to loneliness or hardship for them. So she had juggled her time at her maika as well, balancing that with getting to know her new family, her loud mouthed but golden hearted mother in law, her quiet, loving father in law and her feisty sisters and brother in law.

In all of this though, she would resolutely make time with Raman. She stayed up for him, no matter how late he came home from work. They would have dinner together, she anxious that he like her latest dishes, the creations she spent hours over for him; he willing to eat anything that would bring a smile to her face. So he suffered silently through spicy pasta sauces and parathas that tasted of sambars, while his wife fed him with her love.

He knew that he should spend more time at home, realised that he had placed the burden of his children on Ishitas shoulders, yearned to be with her all the time, yet he also truly felt, for the first time, that all his ambitions were within reach. That with her by his side, he could truly be the best, could achieve the best for himself, and his family. And so he had squashed his misgivings and had continued as before.

But then something had happened which had forced him to take some steps for her happiness.

It was a couple of weeks after Adi had accepted them both, some six months ago, that he had unexpectedly come home early one day. The children were in school but he had seen her car in the carpark and so knew she would be home. Not finding her in their flat, he had gone to the apartment opposite, to his in laws. The sight which greeted him had left him in tears of pity and helplessness.

She had been sitting in the living room with Vandu, holding Vandu's month old Shritija. Tears ran down her cheeks as she smothered the baby in kisses.

"I've missed it all akka" she said in between her sobs to Vandu. "Their first steps, their first words, the first laugh, the first cries. I know I'm their mother, I know they love me, but still, I didn't get all that na. I know I'm being greedy akka. I already have so much, they've given me so much. Toh yeh dil kyun woh chahta hai jo nahi ho sakta akka?" (So why does my heart want what cannot be?)

He had left silently, not letting her know that he had been there. There were things he had to do.

That night, he watched her she sat at the dressing table, combing her long locks. She smiled at him through the mirror.

"Kya dekh rahe hai aap?"
(What are you looking at)

"Tumhe"
(You)

"Mein toh waise hi hoon jaise subah ko thi "
(I'm exactly the way I was in the morning)

"Haan, lekin kuch dinon mein toh badal jaogi na. Isi liye dekh raha hoon"
(Yes but you wont stay the same, you'll change. That's why I'm looking at you)

Ishita turned around in surprise.

"Mein kyun badal jaoongi?"
(Why will I change?)

"Moti ho jaogi"
(You'll get fat)

Ishita's hands paused on the brush and a peal of laughter rang out across the room.

"Mein koi moti woti nahi hone wali hoon Raman. Aap waise bhi mujhe moti kehte ho"
(I'm not going to get fat Raman. You already call me fatty anyway)

Raman got up and slowly walked across the room to her, kneeling before her.

He took both her hands in his.

"Moti toh ho jaogi. Pair bhi full jayenge. Aur stretch marks bhi ho jayenge. Aisa hota hai yaar."
(You will get fat. Your ankles will swell up too. And you will have stretch marks. It happens yaar)

Ishita stared at Raman, not comprehending. The sheen of tears in his eyes puzzled her further.

"Kyun hota hai? Raman, kya...?"
(Why does it happen Raman? What...?)

In response her husband cradled her face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers.

"Pregnancy mai hota hai pagal madrassan"
(It happens in pregnancy, my mad madrassan)

Ishita stiffened and pushed him away.

"Don't Raman"

In response he had grabbed both her hands in one of his, using his spare hand to turn her downcast face towards him.

"Look at me Ishita... No, just listen. We can do this jaan. We can try. Mein tumhe yeh khushi dena chahta hoon. Tumhe woh har ek ehsaas dena chahta hoon jo tumne abhi tak nahi paaya, har woh khushi dena chahta hoon that you deserve. Medical science has made a lot of advances Ishita. There are procedures, IVF, we can try."
(Look at me Ishita... No, just listen. We can do this jaan. We can try. I want to give you this happiness Ishita. I want you to have all those experiences you haven't had until now, to have all the happiness you deserve. Medical science has made a lot of advances Ishita. There are procedures, IVF, we can try)

Tears had sprung into her eyes then, casting a sheen over her view of his beloved face. The love in his voice tore away at her doubts and her defences and she broke down, allowing him to pull her into the cocoon of his arms.

"I know that there is IVF but Raman, what if it doesn't succeed, what if it doesn't happen?"

He gently kissed her forehead and pulled her even closer to him.

"Then we still have each other. We still have Ruhi and Adi. But let's try jaan. Let's try"

And with that they had thrown themselves into the emotional roller coaster of IVF. She had allowed herself to be endlessly examined by the specialist, had taken fertility drugs that made her nauseous, made her belly swell and her ankles tender, had changed her diet as advised.

They had stopped making love when the specialist told them that abstinence was required, even though both craved intimacy with each other. Instead all their focus was attuned to somehow anyhow ensuring that the IVF took hold, that an embryo would be viable after her fertilized eggs were impalnted, that she would get pregnant.

He held her hand through the procedures, cried with her when the side effects of the fertility drugs gave her the symptoms of pregnancy without the results.

Yet the first IVF cycle had led to failure. He had held her in his arms when the failure was suspected and confirmed, had tried to soothe the hurt that caused her breath to constrict and her heart to ache. He had watched as she tried to act outwardly normal for the family and their children, while inside he knew that her stifled tears were tearing her heart apart.

They knew their family suspected, but they had chosen to keep this sacred journey private, only for themselves. And so it had fallen to him to be her support, her sounding board, her whipping boy and her comfort. And he had done it all.

But she had also been wracked in guilt as she saw how he hid his own sorrow in order to be her strength. And so she had decided that the second attempt at IVF would be their last. She had undergone the treatment the day before he left. And then she had waited.

*********************************************
Now he was coming home and she had to give him the news.

The night was finally here. He would be returning from his three week trip today. And she had sent a message to the driver for him to meet her here. It was after all their wedding anniversary.

Tere mere milan ki ye raina
Tere mere milan ki ye raina
Naya koi gul khilayegi
Naya koi gul khilayegi
Tabhi to chanchal hain tere naina
Dekho na
Dekho na, tere mere milan ki ye raina
Aaa...

Nanha sa gul khilega angna
Sooni bainyaan sajegi sajna
Nanha sa gul khilega angna
Sooni bainyaan sajegi sajna
Jaise khele chanda baadal mein
Khelega vo tere aanchal mein
Chandaniya gungunayegi
Chandaniya gungunayegi
Tabhi to chanchal hain tere naina, dekho naa...
Dekho na, tere mere milan ki ye raina

Tujhe thaame kai haathon se
Miloonga madbhari raaton mein
Tujhe thaame kai haathon se
Miloonga madbhari raaton mein
Jagake ansuni si dhadkan
Balamvaa bhar doongi tera man
Nayi ada se satayegi
Nayi ada se satayegi
Tabhi to chanchal hain tere naina, dekho naa...

Dekho na, tere mere milan ki ye raina
Naya koi gul khilayegi
Naya koi gul khilayegi
Tabhi to chanchal hain tere naina
Dekho na
Dekho na, tere mere milan ki ye raina