Chapter- 45

Radha stirred softly, opening her eyes groggily. Her head felt heavy as if a hammer had struck it again and again, leaving a dull throbbing ache behind.

She blinked, slowly adjusting to the sudden flash of light, her eyes wandering around. Feeling a squeeze on her hand, she looked at the side of the bed only to meet Mahir's soft, tender honey-brown orbs staring at her. She froze for a heartbeat, and just like that, reality hit her...

The words she spoke in her broken state, the confession she never meant to let slip out into the open, she didn't know how much her bhaiya heard, she didn't know if Ajay told him everything, or if he had already heard enough to piece it all together, neither she wanted to find out.

She pulled back from his hold abruptly, sitting up with a start as panic surged through her veins, her heart pounding wildly against her chest.

That's not how she expected things to turn out. She didn't want anyone to know about her ugly secret. She knew she deserved the hate, she could accept that from the world, but not from her brothers, not from her bhaiya.

She glanced at Mahir, his eyes... they didn't hold any accusations or anger. They were calm, filled with quiet understanding, and that unsettled her further.

She got down from the bed hurriedly, ignoring the dizziness creeping in, her head tilted due to the sudden movement. Before she could fall flat on the ground, Mahir held her, breaking the fall.

"Aram se, Radha. (Careful, Radha.)" Mahir chided, "You are not in a condition to move so suddenly. You need rest." He made her sit back, giving her water.

Radha pushed it aside with trembling hands, the glass breaking on the floor with a sharp shattering sound that echoed in the room. She gasped, shocked, rising to her feet; she didn't mean to.

She looked at Mahir, guilty. "So-sorry... I-I will clean it..."

"Stop!" Mahir held her back immediately as she tried to clean up the mess.

His tone firmed, "Sit back on the bed."

Radha looked at him, hesitant, her fingers curling into her palms.

"Now, Radhika," Mahir commanded.

Radha swallowed hard. She stepped back, sitting on the edge of the bed stiffly, her thoughts spiraling in her own directions, fear clawing at her chest, shame tightening its grip around her throat, and one question repeating again and again, how much does he know?

Mahir carefully wrapped the glass pieces in the towel lying nearby before dumping them into the trash can. He glanced at his sister, she looked on edge. He wanted to talk it out with her, but the chances of her coming down with another panick attack were higher. Earlier, she slept in his embrace, crying her heart out until exhaustion finally claimed her.

"Are you fine, Radha?" He asked softly, cradling her face, making her look at him.

Radha lowered her gaze, nodding her head silently.

"Meri taraf dekh, baache. (Look at me, baache.)" Mahir said gently, his thumb brushing away the dried tear marks from her cheeks.

Radha hesitated, her lashes trembling slightly, slowly lifting her gaze, meeting his calm, steady ones.

"Can we talk?"

Radha froze. She didn't want to. The thought of asking how much he knew, or even when he came, crossed her mind, but she pushed that away. She didn't wish to open the box of worms. If he knew, she would pretend like it never happened and avoid the conversation altogether, and if he didn't, then there was no need to scratch...

"I heard everything," Mahir said quietly.

The change in her demeanor was visible to him. He knew his sister like the back of his hand; he didn't need words to know what all sorts of overthinking thoughts ran in her mind and how she was already blaming herself for things beyond her control.

Radha's breath hitched. She looked away, "I-I don't know what you are talking about. We... we should go... go home." She tried to move, but Mahir didn't let her.

"Aur kab tak bhaagi sach se, Radha? (How long will you keep running from the truth, Radha?)." Mahir asked, his voice firm yet filled with concern, "For how long will you keep everything buried within you, suffering in silence..."

"Jab tak mujhse hoga tab tak. (As long as I can, I will.)" Radha's voice shaking, "I-I know now that you know everything... You might be hating me. And you are not wrong. I-I did wrong. I... deserve your hate, the consequences, anything you find fit... but please..."

She clutched Mahir's hand desperately, "Aap mujhse jitni nafrat karna chahte hai kar sakte hai, bhaiya, woh aapka haq hai. Bas mujhe... mujhe chhod ke mat jaiye... (You can hate me as much as you want, bhaiya, it's your right... just don't leave me...) Hate me all you want, just don't stop loving me. I know I deserve everything..."

"You don't deserve anything!" Mahir cut her off firmly. He forced her to look up at him, "You don't deserve the hate, the indifference, the rejection, the emotional abuse, the constant neglect, the humiliation, or even the fear planted inside you that Chachu and Chachi made you go through. You deserve unconditional love and a safe place where you can breathe without look back again and again. Aapne parents ki galti ki saza khud ko dena band kar, Radha. (Stop punishing yourself for your parents' mistakes, Radha.) Stop blaming yourself for their choices and cruelty. You did what a child is supposed to do..."

"Even a six-year-old will understand and take his mother's side when his father raised his hand against his mother." Radha cut him off, swatting away his hand, "I was fourteen, I knew. Still, I chose to keep quiet and pretend that nothing happened at all. I was the one who was heartless and a coward who chose silence over standing up..."

"A five-year-old boy who lost his father... who never knew about his mother except for the fact that she left him because she didn't want him. That same five-year-old child didn't get a chance or even the time to grieve for his father, as he has to fullfill his father's last wish. To live with his father's friend. Carrying the name of a stranger, forgetting who his real father is, his name, identity, blessings, or even a single memory kept safely with him to remember and treasure. That five-year-old boy was scared... his world turned upside down within a few moments. He was asked to accept a new life as his own and bury the old one deep inside, and he did just that... fulfilling the last wish his father asked for in his final moments."

Mahir met Radha's gaze, his voice devoid of any emotion. "That five-year-old boy started to respect the man... look up to him, not as a replacement, but more as a responsibility he had to hold onto, just because his father asked him to. Years passed... and slowly, the bond between that boy and his father's friend grew. The only topic that pulled them closer was the very man whom they couldn't talk about to anyone, but with each other. However, one thing remained unchanged... when he turned ten, he found out the man he had started to admire and call his Dad, his wife never accepted him. She bear with him for her husband, but when she found out she was pregnant, she thought she needed her own blood. Now there was no need for the outsider who had been filling in for the last few years in the place of her pain, as she couldn't become a mother before. The boy was heartbroken. All his little heart craved for was love and a place to belong, but what he heard that day was opposite to everything he believed in... that he was never meant to stay, never meant to be loved, just tolerated until he became unnecessary."

Mahur cradled Radha's face again, his eyes locked on hers. "Did you know what he did?" He asked softly.

Radha's heart skipped a beat. Something about the story felt so familiarly unfamiliar, like a truth she had lived around but never truly seen. She shook her head quietly.

"He chose to be a little selfish," Mahir said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. "He just craved for love and a happy family... just once, without feeling like he was stealing someone else's place. But the lady didn't want him, and the man refused to let him go anyway... the boy was getting squeezed between love and rejection, belonging and abandonment, so the best option was to shut himself off from the loud voices he heard every night. He chose to do what he thought was right for himself. He knew he was being the wrong one in their story, but the ten-year-old me wanted to survive without breaking completely... and I did exactly that, chose silence, chose distance, and carried the guilt of it for years without knowing if I was right or wrong."

Silence filled the air, heavy and unmoving as if even time had paused to let his words settle. Radha looked at Mahir, stunned, his sudden confession hitting her harder than anything she had expected. Sakshi was always known for making her displeasure known. Radha had dealt with that, but the depths of it touched her bhaiya too in ways he never showed, she didn't expect that.

"Bhaiya..." She whispered. It was his pain, yet she felt that pain seeping into her own chest, whereas his voice was calm, composed, like nothing affected him, or maybe he had just learned not to let it show.

"Ab bata, main sahi tha ya galat? (Now tell me, was I right or wrong?)." Mahir asked, wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

Sometimes, the best way to heal someone, pull someone out of their own self-blame and darkness, is to bare your own heart. Every soul on this planet has their own guilt, their own moments where they spiral. Some choose to move forward despite it, and some suffer, thinking they were wrong despite everything being right.

Mahir could offer his sister more than words of wisdom, but he wanted to offer his honesty first. He wanted to offer her his truth, one he himself had never opened up about. He was way past running away from those memories. He was a grown man now, mature, strong, and self-aware.

There was a time when he was as guilty as Radha, as scared and lost as his sister, ready to give up on himself, until Arjun entered his life like a ray of hope in his darkness, slowly pulling him out of his own self-loathing.

Then came Abhi, and lastly Radha, who made him experience a moment which was as overwhelming as it was joyful, and that changed everything for him forever... when her first word was bhaiya... not maa, papa, or anyone else.

That was the reality check of his life; he didn't feel selfish or out of place anymore. He was at peace with the decisions he made for himself. God blessed him with the best siblings, a family he chose and who chose him back without conditions.

Being selfish for hurting others intentionally is wrong... but being selfish for the peace of your own mind, your own healing and sanity, is the best thing one can do for themselves without guilt.

"You were right, bhaiya," Radha answered without missing a beat.

Mahir raised an eyebrow. "Why? I acted selfishly, Radha. I chose to ignore the fights between my parents. I chose to be the silent observer, even after knowing what I was doing. I stayed rather than walking away..."

"You didn't have a place to leave," Radha cut him off. The more he said, the more it ripped at her soul. Her bhaiya can't be wrong.

"I still could have chosen to walk away from it all if I wanted to," Mahir countered.

"But you were bound by a promise you gave to your father," Radha defended instantly. "Aap apne hi pita se kiya aakhiri wada todte toh woh galat hota. (If you had broken the last promise you made to your father, that would have been wrong.) Anyways, whatever happened, it was between the couple. You were just ten, how can you blame yourself for something that you don't have control over? How can you hold yourself responsible for something that was never yours to fix...?"

"Just like you can blame yourself for your parents' mistake," Mahir interjected firmly.

"It was abuse, bhaiya," Radha snapped. "I should have reacted. I should have consoled my mother. I should have been there for her..."

"You were just a child, Radha," Mahir said, his voice firm, laced with patience.

"I was fourteen... "

"Still a child!" Mahir exclaimed, his voice stern. "Just because you are forced to act maturely, think beyond your years, doesn't mean your age lies. You were a child one year ago, and you still are. I will not compare you with a ten-year-old, but at least with a teenager who is yet to understand how to react in certain complex situations... how to deal with her own emotions while everything around her is falling apart. You yourself said earlier, you didn't feel anything except fear and shock..."

He stepped forward, holding her hand in his. "And that's fine, Radha. You were trying to understand your own parents for years. You were starting to close off your own emotions just to bear with their cruelty. So you feeling nothing when Chachu raised his hand against his wife is okay. It isn't your fault for feeling nothing; it was your mind protecting you from something you weren't ready to process. You reacted just like a teenager should have. Any other child would have reacted differently, so did you. Stop comparing your reaction with others. Stop blaming yourself for surviving the only way you knew how."

Radha buried her face in his midriff, his words slowly peeling off the layers of guilt wrapped tightly around her heart.

"Radha..." Mahir's tone softened, "Kabhi kabhi khud ko sambhalne ke liye hume dusro ko ignore karna padta hai. Chahe woh sahi ho ya galat, lekin kabhi kabhi peeche hatna zaroori hota hai. (Sometimes, to hold ourselves together, we have to ignore others. Whether it's right or wrong, sometimes stepping back becomes necessary.) Ask yourself once, if you had stepped in, confronted your father, or at least consoled your mother... how would they have reacted? Would they have accepted your concern or snapped at you for interfering between them?"

Radha clutched onto his t-shirt tightly. The answer was at the tip of her tongue, the latter one. Both of them would have snapped at her, and her mother would have taken her husband's side only. She had witnessed it before her eyes, how despite whatever happened, her mother still acted so normal, like nothing was wrong, like her husband didn't just cross the lines in his marriage, as if that moment never even existed.

"Chachu always had a rigid, regressive thinking for daughters," Mahir continued, running his hand down her hair, "that was instilled in him, and even dad, all thanks to our grandfather. These patriarchal thoughts are like a seed, Radha. The more you water them, the more they will grow like a poisonous tree spreading its roots everywhere, crossing every boundary, harming society, and even the families who uphold them. Dad knew his limits; he never stopped Mumma. He supported her in everything. Today she is independent on her own and does what she wants. Whereas Chachi... she was forced to follow her husband's footsteps, and chachu, he was blinded by his ego and beliefs that he crossed boundaries, imposing his ideology on everyone around him. No matter who instilled what in their head, a person should at least be capable enough to see the difference between right and wrong. Dad saw that difference, and Chachu failed."

"Who is wrong then?" Radha mumbled. She understood his point, but the question remained unanswered in her heart.

"The one who made these rubbish cultures," Mahir stated firmly, "and those who followed it like fools."

He pulled back, making Radha look at him. "But definitely not the ones who got squished in between them... who found ways to fight or stand their ground no matter how wrong it felt. They tried, stayed, fought, and that's what matters the most. You didn't give up. You didn't feel, that's fine, but you didn't let yourself break under those circumstances, and I am proud of my sister for that... for choosing to stand and survive despite breaking from within. Chachu Chachi aaj humare beech mein nahi hai... (Chachu and Chachi are not with us anymore.) Maybe it's their deeds or just their fate. Chachu didn't want to see you in his last moments. I am happy about that."

Radha frowned.

Mahir cupped her face lovingly. "A bitter person who is filled with poison in his heart can never die in peace. If he had met you, he would have said something hurtful to make you suffer for your whole life, leaving behind wounds that would never heal... and Chachi... her expressing her love for you... Maybe it was her guilt. She finally realized what she did to you and wanted to find peace within her soul, so she chose to confess, forgetting the moments you needed her the most, forgetting every time you stood there waiting for her love that never came. Whatever they did, it was for them, Radha, and you had no bearing on it. So stop feeling guilty or responsible for something that was never in your control."

Radha let the words sink in her system. To be honest, her bhaiya's words sounded too brutal to her own ears. However, there was a truth in each word he spoke that she couldn't bring herself to deny. Not like she felt anger or hatred, but just a sense of calm clarity spreading through her heart.

She rose to her feet, wrapping her arms around him. "What should I do now?" She asked quietly, suddenly feeling lost and vulnerable.

Mahir kissed her crown tenderly. "Forgive them."

Radha stepped back, shocked.

Mahir smiled faintly. "Hating someone, or even resenting someone, that too our own parents, is the toughest thing to do. It's hard... even next to impossible, in front of the wounds inflicted on us. But by forgiving them, we can move on... we can start a new beginning, write new chapters in our lives without carrying the weight of the past. Just throw away whatever you ever felt, your need to be perfect, your need to be accepted, validated, or even loved conditionally. You are your own person, Radhika... and you don't need anyone's validation to live your life the way you want, to dream and become everything you were always meant to be."

Radha didn't realize when tears started to overflow, when her brother pulled her back into his warmth, when the burdens finally lifted off her chest. The only emotion she felt after years and years of numbness was peace!

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Just one more chapter remains, followed by a short epilogue. I’m looking forward to your feedback on this and the last few chapters.

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