Chapter- 23

Ekansh waited outside the ward for Eshita. She had called him, letting him know she was coming. His instinct was to ask her to come in the morning, knowing she must be upset and exhausted with everything, but he understood she needed to see their father. As much as Virendra’s presence comforted him, it would do the same for Eshita, he couldn’t deny her that.

Hearing the footsteps, he turned and opened his arms as Eshita rushed to him, throwing herself into his embrace. He steadied her, running his hand through her hair soothingly.

“Dad theek hai, Eshu,” He repeated calmly, the same words he had told her earlier.

Eshita tightened her grip around him, letting herself melt completely. She knew her father was fine, but the whole drive till the hospital, the silence of the empty roads and her racing thoughts, doctor’s words rang in her ears, echoing relentlessly like a cruel reminder. She didn’t want to think about it. No one could take her father away from her, not even God himself.

She was yet to settle her score with her father, she was yet to say everything she had buried inside her for years, she was yet to fight with him. If needed, she would drag it all her whole life just so she could have her father by her side always. She couldn’t afford to lose the only parent she had left, she couldn’t go through that loss again.

Life had always been unfair to her. There was a time she believed in the almighty, prayed before the idols, did everything following in her mother’s footsteps, but when the woman who worshipped and believed in God without asking anything in return was snatched away from her, she stopped believing in that one silent listener.

She would never plead before a stone idol for anyone, she would fight with fate itself rather than begging for mercy, and Eshita Sehgal never lost.

The nurse approached them with the soup and the medicines for Virendra.

Eshita pulled back, blinking away her tears. She felt better than before in her bhaiya’s warmth.

Before Ekansh could reach for the tray, Eshita did and looked at her brother. His red eyes gave away that he had cried. She was relieved that he did. She didn’t need her father for emotional support, she was angry with him, but her bhaiya… he wasn’t just angry, he was carrying baggage that wasn’t even his to carry for years. At least he let their father in… she was still struggling with it.

“Aap jaake kuch kha lijiye,” She murmured softly, “I will take this in.”

Ekansh shook his head, “Tune kuch khaya?”

Eshita averted her gaze, “Coffee,” she whispered quietly.

As the silence stretched, she looked up, meeting the angry pair of eyes. Her bhaiya hated her unhealthy craze for caffeine, she had been relying on it too much lately, and he was this close to throwing those instant powders in the trash.

“Sorry,” She added immediately, “Main vo sandwich khane wali thi, par bhook hi nahi lagi. Aap abhi jao, I will make sure dad has this soup, and then I will eat something…”

“Come inside,” Ekansh cut her off firmly, already turning and entering the ward.

Eshita sighed, defeated. Wow. Now she had a grumpy bear on her hands to pacify. Nothing new anyway, she was just happy to have these pieces of what they once were.

Virendra looked on as Ekansh entered the room, followed by Eshita, who kept her eyes fixed on the tray without sparing him a glance. He watched silently as both his children worked in perfect sync, Ekansh levered up the bed, adjusting the pillow as per his comfort, while Eshita set the tray, pulling the side table before him quietly.

Ekansh stepped back, picking up his phone and settling on the couch, giving both of them space but also being there so it wouldn’t get awkward for the father and daughter. He could have his meal with his sister, who had always found ways to get under his skin.

Her unhealthy obsession for coffee was getting out of his hands. He had tried to stop her a few times, even made her understand and told her about the side effects it could have on her health, but he forgot, his sister had grown up in age, but the stubborn genes she had carried since childhood were instilled in every fibre of her being, and he didn’t mind being the dictator when needed.

Eshita kept her eyes lowered, placing the tray before her father. She couldn’t bring herself to see him in hospital clothes, those IVs attached to him, and the great Virendra Sehgal looking so pale and weak. She couldn’t accept that sight. Her father was the strongest… Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision; her own thoughts felt forced and like an illusion for the first time.

Ekansh noticed the sheen of tears first. His grip on his phone tightened. The only thing he wanted to do was rush forward and pull his sister into his embrace, whispering words of comfort and reassurance, but he held back. It wasn’t about him, it was about Eshita, her hurt, the endurance she had suppressed for years. His father had to step in. He would never come in between them, they had to find words themselves to bridge what had broken between them.

“Eshita,” Virendra called out, his tone soft, “itni naraz hai apne papa se ki ek baar meri taraf dekhegi bhi nahi?”

Eshita swallowed hard, sitting down on the chair, avoiding his gaze. “Main… main aapse milne nahi aayi yaha. Bhaiya akele the. He needs someone too. I can’t leave him alone when he needs me the most.”

The taunt hit exactly where it was supposed to. Virendra went silent. He didn’t mind the sharpness in her words, he was okay with it. At least his daughter was talking to him, acknowledging his presence rather than ignoring him completely.

He reached for the spoon to eat, but his hands were shaky, his body was still weak, his nerves unsteady and drained.

Eshita rose to her feet, almost snatching away the spoon and bowl from her father. “Why do you always have to display your ‘I am a Hee-man’ side? Can’t you for once ask for help, papa? Bimaar ho, weak ho, tabiyat theek nahi hai. But guess what... I will never ask for help! It will hurt my ego! Stop following that dumb tagline, will you?”

She ranted out, frustrated, unable to hold herself back anymore. Why did her father have to act so tough all the time? Couldn’t he just resign from that annoying tough self?

Ekansh bit his inner cheeks, suppressing the laughter that bubbled within him. The look on his father’s face was worth watching, a mix of shock and disbelief. Only Eshita could dare to talk like that to their father. If it had been him, he would have been glared down in silence and ordered to get lost, with a memo that he was talking to his father and not friend.

Virendra opened his mouth quietly when Eshita brought the spoon near him. He knew his daughter had the same short-tempered streak, just like her mother. He never understood what was the need to get wild when you could explain the same thing calmly, but talking sense into an angry kitten was not his cup of tea. And silence was not something he liked either. The best option was to talk… but how and what, that made him pause.

There was a time when his daughter talked like a chatterbox, unstoppable and endlessly expressive. Her sweet voice filled their house with laughter and life. Today, it was him who had brought this change, where she even refused to glance at him properly.

Noticing the sheen of tears, he stopped her wrist as she tried to feed him again. He was fine with anger, even harsh words, but not tears.

“Why are you crying?” He asked gently. He wants to hear from her despite knowing the reason.

Eshita pulled back from his grip, forwarding the spoon near his mouth. However, Virendra stared at her intently, refusing to take a bite.

“Eat, dad,” She hissed, glaring at him.

Virendra glared back. “Why are you crying…”

“Because I am happy,” Eshita snapped. “Aapko aise hospital mein dekh kar mujhe bahut khushi ho rahi hai. Aapke bhagwan ne meri woh ichcha bhi poori kar di jo maine kabhi unse maangi hi nahhi thi. I just feel so delighted after hearing what the doctor said…” She choked on her words. A lone tear fell right on Virendra’s hand.

She turned away towards Ekansh. “Main ghr jaa rahi....” Her words died down as a grip tightened around her wrist.

Her body stiffened. She didn’t want to hear sympathetic I am fine words. She wasn’t in the mood for that, nor did she wish to cry. She had come there with a resolve to not give in so easily, yet here she was, her heart melting like a puddle just after one helpless look at her father. Why couldn’t she be a little heartless like he was?

“Meri taraf dekh,” Virendra said firmly yet gently.

Eshita turned back with a glare, her stubborn self on full display. “What? Before you even start, let me make myself very clear. I don’t want to hear your sweet loving words. Jo cheez aap in paanch saalon mein nahi kar paye, vo abhi aaj achanak mere aansu dekh kar mat kijiye. Let’s be real, papa. Ignore me and my tears just like you were doing. I don’t need you to pretend now.”

Virendra listened to her patiently. No matter how much each word coming out of her mouth gave him a reality check, he couldn’t bring himself to shrug them away.

“I am not giving you any false hope or empty words,” He began, his voice calm but firm. “Just because I am sick or whatever my health is screaming off, I am not asking you to forgive me. Forgiveness is earned, Esha not snatched or gained from circumstances.”

“A father doesn’t look good asking for his own daughter’s forgiveness, papa,” Eshita retorted bitterly.

“Forgiveness doesn’t come with titles,” Virendra countered firmly, “And if I am your father and I failed and made a mistake, it’s my responsibility to correct what I messed up. Asking forgiveness from my own child whom I wronged doesn’t make me any less of a father.”

Eshita averted her gaze. She had no answer to that.

“You are angry,” Virendra continued. “You are hurt, and I won’t ask you to dissolve those feelings just because I am unwell. I have taught my children to be open about their feelings, no matter how difficult or uncomfortable they are. They shouldn’t be suppressed, and my condition doesn’t change that fact. Esha… I know you hate me...”

“No!” Eshita cut him off firmly. She met his gaze. “I don’t hate you, dad. Ek beti apne hi pita se kabhi nafrat nahi kar sakti. I am angry at what you did. The nights I spent waiting for you to console me, tell me that everything will be fine… waiting for you to clarify what was going on in the house and make everything right again…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, hurt and anguish lacing her words. “I wanted you to support me when I said I don’t want to join those so-called grooming classes, those annoying diet sessions, or even the business that I hate. But all you did was impose whatever you wanted to keep me busy and away from you. You didn’t once ask me what I wanted, dad. My fifteenth birthday you didn’t come home. My sixteenth birthday you dumped some stupid file in my hands, whole night hovering over me, explaining things that bounced over my head.”

Years of hurt poured out in words. Her voice shook, “You grilled me in the gym for hours, teaching me self-defense, forcing me to raise my hand on my own father… Why? That I realized today. Aap apne guilt se ladna chahte the, khud ko punish karna chahte the… jo bhi hua uske liye. Isliye aapne mujhe kaha aap par haath uthane ke liye. Apne guilt ko kam karne ke chakkar mein aap mujhe saza de rahe the. Mere saath galat kar rahe the.”

She took a deep breath, shaking her head. “I… I agree Massi was the one who was at fault. She spilled poison in our family and it touched each one of us in ways we never imagined, but that doesn’t change the fact that you made the choices in the end. You believed what you wanted. You made us go through what we weren’t supposed to feel. I never hated you, dad… I can’t. I will never hate my own father. I just stopped trusting you the way I once did.”

Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on every breath they took. Ekansh’s heart squeezed painfully at the raw emotions vented out. He rose to his feet, yet stood where he was, his father needed to step up now. He could offer his sister comfort, unconditional love, support, and assurance, but it was their father who needed to heal the wounds he had caused, especially after everything she had poured out, her feelings that were meant to be heard, acknowledged, and validated.

Virendra wiped away the tears from Eshita’s cheeks that fell without her realizing. Losing his child’s trust was the biggest failure for a father. It ripped at his soul to hear, in real time, what he had made his daughter go through, what kind of hell he had subjected her to. He did all of that to avoid his own pain, to suppress his own hurt and grief, but he forgot that he had a responsibility, he had a child who needed him, not his selfish, broken self lost in his own darkness.

He lurched forward, pulling Eshita into his warmth. She didn’t hate him, at least that was a relief he hadn’t dared to hope for. That was the last emotion he wanted to take to his grave. His daughter’s pain, anger, resentments, and silent suffering, he would make sure to fade them away before he closed his eyes for the last time.

“I am sorry, baccha.” He murmured brokenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eshita tried to hold back the tears, gulp them down, pull away, and walk off, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. That single hug and an honest, heartfelt apology unraveled something she had been yearning for so long.

She wasn’t looking for grand gestures or something impossibly perfect, but the acknowledgment from her father, a tiny realization that he was at least aware of what he had put her through, was enough to reach her heart. She just wanted him to pull her into his warmth like her five-year-old self and hide her there from the scary, creeping ghosts that were below her bed.

She didn’t need perfection or promises, she was just looking for her father the one she had lost somewhere along the way. Tears overflowed freely. After five long years, she was finally back where she belonged, in the warmth of her father, who was once drowning in grief, then in guilt, and now in redemption. At least now, he was trying to make things right, and for the first time in years, she felt at peace.

Virendra held her close to his heart, his hand creasing her hair soothingly,
“I am sorry for ignoring you, abandoning you when you needed me the most,” he continued, “I am sorry for making you feel less important and unwanted. For imposing my choices on you, just because I wasn’t able to deal with my emotions. For everything I did, Eshu… I am sorry.”

He paused for a heartbeat, “But I promise, baache… I will make everything right. I will make up for the years where you felt alone and unheard. I will erase those bitter memories, filling your heart with warmer, happier ones. Earning back the trust I have broken… I promise.”

His words were filled with honesty and raw sincerity. Building a relationship that is broken so badly is never easy. It takes effort, patience, and time… and Virendra was determined to give it all. He had once failed as a father, he wouldn’t let himself fail again. That was his resolve.

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Your thoughts on father daughter conversation?

From the next chapter story will focus more on Ekta, Ekansh and her past!

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Next Update: Wednesday!

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