The Revenge Games

by M. V. Kasi

  They all watched Sia’s blank expression in confusion, wondering if she was making fun of them, or if she really agreed with their ideologies.

  The moment was interrupted when they heard a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

  When she looked towards the source, she was surprised to see that it was Ajay. He was leaning on one of the hospital walls, and watching them in amusement.

  She wondered when he had arrived and why he hadn’t acknowledged his presence earlier.

  She acknowledged him as usual—with a silent chin nod. And for some reason, his eyes sparkled even more in amusement, and nodded back similarly to her.

  “Miss Sampath, Dr. Batra is ready to see you,” one of the nurses announced.

  She still went by her maiden name. Because, somehow she hadn’t felt married. And she needed the assurance of her maiden name to believe that things were moving in her own pace.

  She knew she was being delusional. Because it was only a matter of time, before she would have to change her name officially. Before the baby was born and before she revealed her true identity.

  She got up from her seat and followed behind the nurse. And then she looked back briefly, to see if Ajay was following behind her.

  He was.

  The nurse led her and Ajay inside an examination room.

  A couple of minutes later, a woman’s pleasant voice interrupted them. “Hello Sia. I am Dr. Batra. Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking her hand. “How are you doing today?”

  Sia had changed doctors for obvious reasons. Once she found out that her previous doctor’s nurse had blabbed about her hormone therapy and other private details to other people, there was no way she could trust that particular hospital or the doctors with the well-being of her child.

  “And you must be the father,” the doctor smiled at Ajay.

  “Yes. I am,” he confirmed. “Ajay,” he said and shook hands with the doctor.

  Once the niceties were out of the way, they got down to business. The doctor kept asking her questions about what she was eating, and whether she still had her nausea since she was almost in the second trimester…

  “My nausea has disappeared completely. I’m able to eat normally now.”

  “Good. I can see that you have gained back your pre-pregnancy weight too.”

  Over the next few minutes, there were a few more questions, and then the doctor finally put down the notepad and smiled at them. “So. You both ready to see your baby now?”

  Sia’s heart beat faster in anticipation. In her eagerness, she didn’t care that her slightly rounded stomach had to be bared. She didn’t even feel the discomfort from the cold gel that was smeared on her abdomen before an ultrasound’s plastic transducer was glided on it.

  Her eyes were glued to the screen on the ultra sound machine.

  And there it was. She could hear her baby’s heartbeat. Combined along with hers.

  “The faster heartbeat is the baby’s,” the doctor explained.

  There was also a vague black and white picture of the baby on the monitor.

  “Okay. Here is your baby’s head, the arms, the legs.” She kept pointing at the blob. “All other organs seem to be fine too…”

  The doctor continued to explain different organs that were visible.

  Sia felt overwhelmed looking at the monitor. She kept staring at it while running her fingers over her belly.

  My baby…

  Finally someone I can love. And hopefully, my child would love me back unconditionally.

  “So do you have any further questions for me?” the doctor asked. She was smiling at Sia’s and Ajay’s similar looks of awe as they watched their baby on the monitor.

  “Is the baby doing fine? Anything I need to be concerned about?” Sia asked in a slightly anxious tone.

  “So far everything is looking great. Nothing to worry about.” Dr. Batra gave them a few pictures of the baby for the keepsakes.

  “Will I be able to continue exercising during the pregnancy? I practice kickboxing every day,” Sia asked the doctor.

  “Oh yes, you can. Especially if you are used to doing those exercises prior to your pregnancy. But do it in moderation. Don’t overheat your body and don’t let your heart rate increase too much. Drink plenty of water while you do any sort of exercises.”

  Sia felt relieved. She would have felt extremely vulnerable if she couldn’t continue practicing kick boxing.

  “Any other specific instructions or precautions we need to take Dr. Batra,” asked Ajay.

  “I have printed some suggestions for you both to follow. Almost everything in moderation is fine. Including sex. There is very low risk of hurting the baby since the penis doesn’t reach the cervix,” Dr. Batra stated in a matter of fact way.

  Then handing them the papers with suggestions, the doctor bid them goodbye before leaving the room.

  Sia got up from the examination table after wiping away the gel on her stomach.

  To break the awkward silence, “Are you going back to your office?” she asked, wearing her shoes. She kept staring down at them as though they were the most fascinating things.

  “No. I’m going back home. I forgot to get some documents,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  After that scintillating conversation, there was some more awkward silence.

  “Do you need a ride home? I can drop you,” he offered.

  “What? Oh. I..uh..I’m driving now. Since I…uh…no longer have nausea or dizziness.”

  “I see. That’s…uh…good. See you home then,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

  Her head snapped up, and she looked at him to see if he was making fun of her and the awkwardness of the situation.

  Ajay’s eyes were dancing with mirth.

  Damn. He was making fun of her.

  She composed herself and then said, “Yeah. See you home,” with a cool nod and almost fled.

  And while she headed towards her car, she felt weird. She found the doctor’s sex talk awkward as hell. Which by itself was weird and ironic, since she had never been the prudish kind or ever shied away from the topic.

  But Ajay’s slight teasing made her feel…shy? No. That cannot be it.

  Hopeful?

  God, she hoped not. It would be stupid and foolish to hope. There was no chance in hell that Ajay would warm up to her or forgive her enough to be with her that way.

  It must be the pregnancy hormones making her delusional.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AJAY GOT INTO his car to drive back home from the hospital.

  Hearing his child’s heartbeat was one of the most moving things in his life. At that very moment, something had shifted in him. And when he saw the image of the ultrasound scan, he felt a fierce surge of protectiveness sweeping over him.

  Suddenly, his pride, or his ego, or even his thoughts of revenge didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing that really mattered was the tiny life growing inside his wife.

  His child would have to come first, before anything else. The added tension and stress when he was around Sia, must not be good for the baby.

  So during the drive home, he decided to try his best to make Sia comfortable around him.

  It shouldn’t be that hard. Because before she had led him into the trap, he had actually enjoyed her company. Especially her dry sense of humor that most people around her didn’t quite understand or get. So he decided to pursue a friendship of sorts with her again.

  He and Sia arrived home at the same time. And before she could disappear into her office room, he stopped her.

  “Sia, do you have a minute?”

  She stopped and looked at him questioningly.

  “I’ve decided that for our child’s sake, we should start over again. I’m also going to let go of whatever you did to me in the past,” he said.

  She looked surprised, but didn’t comment.

  “We can’t continue living like this. I know our marriage is supposed to be a te
mporary one, but we need to work out some kind of a deal between us to have a cordial relationship.”

  She gave him the slightest of nods.

  He sighed. “That means, we talk once in a while, Sia. While I am thrilled with our chin nods, our child might not be too thrilled to see his or her parents communicating with them.”

  She was about to nod again, but stopped midway. “Okay,” she said, finally.

  “Good.” He was about to go towards his room in the opposite direction, but he stopped midway when he thought of something.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning to visit The Colonel at the village,” he said. “I’ll be there for a week. Would you like to join me? He has asked me to let you know the invitation was extended to you as well.”

  Sia looked torn. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I have some important work pending today,” she said.

  He felt disappointed hearing that, but he nodded. “Okay. I guess, I’ll see you in a week then.”

  Just as he was about to leave, he heard her say. “Have a safe trip, Ajay. I’ll see you back home soon.”

  He liked hearing her refer to her house as their home. And he was determined to make it true. For their baby’s sake.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SIA’S HANDS SHOOK as she walked towards a restaurant from a parking lot.

  It was a little after two in the afternoon, and towards the end of the lunch hour. But since it was a very popular restaurant, most of the tables remained occupied.

  Nodding her head in acknowledgement at the restaurant hostess, she was seated at the table she had reserved, nearly a month ago. It overlooked a lake view.

  She didn’t really care for that view, but she was more than pleased with the other view that she could see from there. A few tables away, a group of middle aged ladies were celebrating. There were lots of loud discussions and plenty of laughter.

  Ordering a soup and a noodles dish, she kept glancing towards them in a casual manner.

  She could see that a waiter had approached the group’s table with a small cake and a few candles on the top. A woman with a red sari, who’s birthday it was, smiled, and then, cut the cake while her group cheered on, and sang the birthday song.

  Soon, everyone fed her the cake, taking plenty of pictures.

  “How is the food, Mrs. Manthena?” a friendly voice interrupted her show.

  She dragged her gaze away from the celebration, and smiled pleasantly at the owner of the restaurant whom she had vaguely remembered as being one of her wedding guests.

  “It’s very good. I’ve been meaning to come here for a while since I’ve heard such good reviews,” she complimented politely.

  There was a loud crash followed by panicked shouting.

  “Geeta! Oh my god Geeta!”

  The owner of the restaurant frowned, and turned to see what the commotion was.

  The woman celebrating her birthday was on the floor. Her face was covered in rashes that were as red as her sari, and she was flailing in pain and terror.

  “Help! Someone please call an ambulance!” shouted one of the ladies in the group.

  “Call her son Dr. Kranthi Naidu. He would know what to do while the ambulance arrives!” suggested another woman.

  The owner of the restaurant rushed to the table.

  “What happened?” he asked the group of panicked women.

  “It’s Mrs. Naidu. She is Jagdish Naidu’s wife. We are celebrating her birthday today. She was fine until now. But all of a sudden, she has collapsed. I think she must be having a heart attack.”

  People didn’t break into ugly red rashes, and grasp their throats, waiting to breathe, if they were having a heart attack. Allergy awareness or symptoms of asphyxiations was not that common in India. Some people even thought it was an urban legend that someone could have food related allergies, and potentially die when exposed to the allergens.

  “Dr. Kranthi is instructing someone to administer an injection into his mother’s thigh. She has it in her bag it seems. Is there a nurse or a doctor here?” a frantic woman shouted.

  No one responded. Including Sia.

  Sia’s plan all along was to save the woman’s life after she had eaten some of the cake that Varun had served her. She was to go to the fallen woman, and offer to administer the Epipen.

  The woman was turning almost blue around the lips, due to the lack of oxygen. She needed the Epipen right away.

  Yet, Sia hesitated to move.

  “Aunty, please help me. He’s hurting me—” the eight year old begged.

  “I think you must have misunderstood him, Sia. Nothing of that sort is happening,” the woman said, refusing to even make eye contact, let alone offer to help the little girl from the monster.

  That same woman who had turned away from helping a desperate little girl, who had needed her badly, was now lying on the floor. In need.

  ‘Are you really going to let her die?’ Sia asked herself.

  Yes. I absolutely could. In fact, I could do it quite easily. All I have to do is to get up and walk away.

  Those very thoughts jolted Sia into action. Not because she had any special love towards the woman almost dying on the floor, but because she realized that she still felt enough rage to go against the plan.

  Revenge was supposed to be a cold blooded mission where feelings of rage and pain had no place.

  “I can help,” Sia stated calmly. Then going towards the other table, she opened the woman’s emergency kit, and removed the Epipen from there.

  When one of the women saw the huge needle, she looked alarmed. “Do you really know what to do with that?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Sia answered.

  “Are you a doctor?” asked another woman.

  “No. But I’m a registered CPR. I can give you more information, but I don’t think your friend will last that long without her medicine.”

  They all looked torn for a few seconds before nodding their approval. The woman on the floor had stopped moving, and was purple in the face.

  Sitting down, Sia stabbed the sharp needle deep into the woman’s thigh.

  A few seconds later, the blue tinge began to fade slowly from the prone woman’s face. Everyone around her heaved a sigh of relief. And soon an ambulance along with paramedics arrived to the restaurant.

  Meantime, Sia left the restaurant before anyone could speak to her.

  ***

  Much later that evening, Sia visited Varun.

  She rang the doorbell to his house several times, and waited outside the door. When he didn’t answer the door, she used the keys he had given her to get inside.

  Just like her house, Varun’s decor was also stark. But unlike her huge house, Varun preferred a smaller home. Just a large living room, a kitchen and a large bedroom with an attached bathroom.

  Everything in Varun’s house was black. The furniture, the wall paint and even the curtains were black. He even wore black from top to bottom as though he wanted to ensure that he didn’t draw any attention towards him.

  She didn’t know why she kept visiting Varun even though it was risky to do so at this point. But she couldn’t stay away from him. He needed her. And she needed him equally.

  “Varun…” she called out softly.

  When she didn’t hear anything, she walked towards the bedroom and opened the door.

  She could see the faint outline of a large man sitting on the bed.

  “You are late,” he said gruffly.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I had to go home first to not risk anyone following me.”

  She paused when she saw something glinting in his hand.”Did I disturb your nap?” she asked casually, even though she knew why he was sitting in the dark with all the curtains closed.

  “No. I-I’m feeling restless and going crazy. I feel I’m going to explode unless I release some of this pressure inside,” he said.

  Her heart thudded in dread.

  The last time he got such urges, it didn’t end well. It was the night before
her wedding.

  She had found him in his bedroom, and had to take him to the emergency. She had stayed vigilant next to him during the entire night, until she knew he’d be okay.

  “Varun, have you been seeing Dr. Mishra? You lost a dangerous amount of blood the last time—”

  “Sia, please. If I was in a mood to listen to a lecture, I would’ve called my mother.”

  It was strange that she was always after Varun to get help to recover and heal, when she herself was struggling to do so. But she desperately wanted Varun to be okay to the point that she was obsessed with it.

  She recalled what Dr. Patel had said when she confessed to him about her relationship with Varun.

  “An obsession of ‘saving’ or ‘fixing’ anything broken is one of the coping mechanisms.”

  She stared at Varun.

  For a change, he was wearing a short sleeved shirt, which he had never worn during the past one year since she had been meeting him. She could see several criss-cross scars on his arms, most of which were healed.

  Varun was a self-harmer.

  He sought out pain to help remove the build-up of agony, and feeling of helplessness inside him. She felt equally helpless about him. Because he thought that Varun was targeted by her abuser, only because she had managed to escape.

  Dr. Patel didn’t agree with her reasoning, but the feeling of being responsible for Varun’s plight wouldn’t leave her. And over the past few months, she had coerced Varun to see a therapist. And she spent enough time in every possible manner to stop Varun’s urges.

  She could never forget the first time she saw Varun slice his arm with a sharp knife. She had watched in horror, and was even more shocked when she saw him breathe in relief as pain overtook him.

  She hadn’t judged him then. Not with her own history of abusing drugs and alcohol.

  She recalled how each night she had taken a lot of pills, and mixed them with alcohol and drugs. Not to commit suicide, although the combination could have killed her easily. But she had loved the thrill of taking chances—to see whether or not she’d wake up the next day.

  But she woke up each morning, feeling slightly disappointed. Until that last time on her twenty first birthday when she couldn’t wake up for a very long time.