Anya had been married? Well, she must have been, of course. Her parents had been on the lookout for a suitable groom for her even five years back. But that still didn’t stop Dev from being shocked. And now she was divorced too. Why was that? Hadn’t her marriage been a happy one? His heart beat hard as Dev stared at Farhan. “What do you mean you were married till a few days back? Aren’t you her husband anymore?”
Farhan didn’t take his eyes off Anya. “We got divorced at the Bandra family court on Friday morning. If I understand it right, she met with the accident immediately after she left the court.”
“And where the hell were you at that time?” Dev didn’t know why he was angry with Farhan. But he was. The other man had known Anya all her life and had even been married to her for a couple of years. Dev realised that he didn’t like it one bit.
Farhan turned to give Dev a sad look. “That’s exactly what I’m cursing myself for. I left the court a few minutes later. I saw there had been an accident, but also noticed someone—I think it was you—had taken over. I rushed away since I never even imagined it could be Anya.”
Dev could see that the other man was genuine. “Sit down,” he said, pointing to the sofa and handing him a glass of water. “I’m glad you came. I only knew Anya by her first name and was puzzled as to how I was going to contact her family. Searching for only the first name on social media,” Dev rolled his eyes, “must be the most difficult task.”
Gulping a mouthful of water thirstily, Farhan asked in a broken voice, “You mean Anya hasn’t opened her eyes in all these four days?”
Dev sighed. “She did. But she can’t recall who she is.”
“What?” Farhan looked shaken. “What does that mean? She has no memory?”
Dev nodded. “Yes, she has absolutely no memory of her past, not even her own name.”
“Oh my God!” Farhan held his head. “My poor Anya. What a mess!”
His poor Anya? Dev frowned heavily. Didn’t he just say that they were divorced?
“If you’ll excuse me a minute, I need to call her parents.” Farhan took out his cell phone to call Gaurav Chhabria. “Uncle, mein Farhan. Anya is unwell and that’s why her phone was switched off. I think it would be for the best if you and aunty came to Mumbai.”
“What? What’s wrong with Anya? You didn’t mention anything before now.” Gaurav was more irritated than anxious.
“That’s because I didn’t know she was so ill.”
“Let me give the phone to aunty,” said Gaurav, calling out to his wife. Without bothering that he might be heard, he told Amal, “I don’t understand these modern couples. Farhan says Anya is ill, and we should go to Mumbai immediately. But he didn’t know that she was ill before now. What kind of man doesn’t know when his wife has taken ill?”
Amal grabbed the phone from her husband to yell at Farhan, “What happened? What’s wrong with Anya? Tell me Farhan.” She began to wail loudly, beating against her chest.
“Aunty, please calm down.” Farhan couldn’t face the drama. Poor Anya! She could do without this. But how could he stop her parents from visiting her? She was seriously ill and he wasn’t left with a choice but to inform them.
Amal ranted and raved for a while before Farhan told her that he needed to attend to the sick Anya. “It would be best if you and uncle came to Mumbai immediately.” He disconnected the phone, unable to take any more.
“So, do you still love her?” asked Dev, wondering why they were divorced.
Farhan turned to him with a jerk of his head, as if he had forgotten that Dev was in the same room. “You mean Anya? Yeah, I’ve always loved her. I told you that she’s my best friend.” He turned when he saw a movement in his peripheral. Anya was awake.
A slender man walked close to her and held her left hand, the one free of needles, in both his hands. He looked upset, his eyes red from tears or maybe lack of sleep, she couldn’t say.
“Anya, I’m so glad to see you awake. You gave me such a fright. I had almost given you up for dead.” He made an effort to keep his voice from breaking.
She looked at the man’s kind face. What was he doing in her hospital room? Did he know her? He had called her Anya.
“We know each other?” she asked, a confused look on her pale features.
It was with great difficulty that Farhan stopped himself from breaking down as he nodded. “Yeah, I’ve known you since you were three years old.”
Panic flooded Anya’s face as she turned to look for the one familiar face she had come to depend upon since waking up in the hospital bed. “Dev!” she called out to him.
Dev couldn’t help the joy that burst forth in his heart that it was him that Anya wanted by her side as walked to her swiftly, touching her shoulder reassuringly. “This is Farhan Merchant. He says you were married to him.”
Anya looked at Farhan again with disturbed brown eyes. “Are you my husband?” Somehow, she couldn’t think of him as her husband.
Farhan shook his head. “Not any more. We’re divorced.”
“Why? We didn’t get along?” asked Anya, curious.
Farhan gave her a bitter smile. “We got along like a house on fire. That wasn’t the issue.” He looked at Dev, wondering if he should continue to talk in front of the stranger. But what the hell, Dev Wadhwa had saved Anya’s life and had obviously taken care of her since four days. “I’m gay, Anya. Despite knowing that, my parents were insistent that I get married to a woman. And you, my BFF, were being pressured by your parents to get married. The two of us decided to tie the knot to shut them all up. We were married in name only for two years. A few months ago, I met Arth and fell in love. That’s when we decided to get a divorce. On Friday, the divorce was finalised. You had the accident immediately after you left the court, on your way back home.”
Anya was listening avidly, but as one would listen to a story of someone else’s life. She felt absolutely no connection to his tale.
Dev felt humongous relief when he heard what Farhan had to say. Anya was a free woman now, one he could pursue if he wanted to as Farhan had never had a romantic interest in her.
Dev needed to know Anya more. But her parents would be arriving soon. Will he get a chance? Or will they whisk her away to God knew where? No, he wouldn’t let her disappear from his life this time round. This time, Dev decided to listen to his heart and give way to his raging emotions.
7
All hell broke loose during the visiting hours on Tuesday morning. Amal and Gaurav had arrived at the hospital and entered Anya’s room, resembling two bulls in a China shop. All of the nurse’s requests for silence fell on deaf ears as Amal howled her heart out. She had just got to know that her daughter had been in an accident.
She turned to give Farhan a glare. “Why didn’t you tell us before Farhan? You think we didn’t have a right to know?”
He didn’t reply, as he had nothing to say that would calm her down. He just stared at her stonily.
Amal dropped her gaze to walk towards her daughter who was lying on the hospital bed. And who was that standing beside her? It was a stranger holding her hand.
Gaurav beat his wife to it as he asked, “Who are you, young man?” looking pointedly at his hand lying in Anya’s hold.
“Hello sir, I’m Dev Wadhwa.”
Anya gave Dev a panicked look, unable to recognise the older couple. Who were they? And what were they doing in her hospital room? Her grip tightened on his hand.
“Anya,” cried Amal, “what happened to you?” She stared at Anya who looked pale and thin. How bad had the accident been? Farhan hadn’t mentioned any bones being broken, only a knock to her head. Had she recovered now?
“Who are you?” asked Anya, returning the other woman’s stare with equal fervour. She felt threatened, what with being unable to recognise the couple and the powerful vibes emanating from them.
“What?” shrieked Amal, her eyes almost popping out of her head. She turned to look at her husband, who appeared stunned, before re
turning her gaze to Anya. “I’m your mother. I held you in my womb for all of nine months and gave birth to you after suffering such long labour pains and you ask me who I am?” She wanted to shake Anya.
Dev raised a hand to stop the flow of words, his temper building. What was wrong with the woman? Couldn’t she see that her daughter had undergone a traumatic accident? He met Farhan’s eyes over Anya’s parents’ heads and saw the other man shake his own, a bitter look on his face. “Ma’am, I suppose you don’t realise how ill your daughter is. I...”
“And how would you know, Mr. Wadhwa?” asked Gaurav, desperate to find a punching bag.
Farhan couldn’t stop himself from intervening. “Uncle, aunty, listen. Dev was the one who found Anya after her accident. He’s the one who’s been tending to her since five days. She...”
“And where were you all that time?” Gaurav turned his angry brown gaze on his son-in-law. Yeah, he still wasn’t aware that Anya and Farhan were divorced.
“I want to be left alone,” said Anya, her voice stronger than ever before. Before anyone could answer her, she rang the bell for the nurse. When Nurse Saldana walked in, Anya said, “Can you please ask all these people to leave my room? I’m tired and need to sleep.” She didn’t bother to even look in the older couple’s direction. The woman called herself her mother. And the man was probably her father. But Anya couldn’t connect with either of them, not one little bit. She was terribly scared that she couldn’t recognise her own parents. It was all the worse because she felt no feelings other than fear.
Amal began to wail when Nurse Saldana attempted to escort them all out. “You ungrateful child! How dare you turn away from your own parents? You...”
“Ma’am,” said the nurse gently. “Anya ma’am is suffering from amnesia. She can’t recognise anyone. She...”
“What the hell do you mean she can’t recognise anyone? We are her parents, damn it!” Gaurav burst out angrily, glaring at the woman.
Nurse Saldana’s stance became aggressive. “Sir, madam, I think it’s best you talk to Dr. Adnani. The patient’s health is most important to us. If there’s going to be any disruption to that, I might have to call security.” She pinned Amal and Gaurav with her stern gaze, showing them she meant business.
Gaurav escorted a muttering Amal out of the hospital room, almost bursting a blood vessel. “Show us to the doctor. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”
“You might have to check at the reception for an appointment sir,” said Nurse Saldana sternly.
“You come with us, Farhan,” ordered Gaurav, on his way to the elevator bank.
The two of them kept firing questions at Farhan on their way down. He continued to look at them stonily, refusing to rise to their baits. He had done his best to explain to them that Anya was suffering from memory loss. They obviously couldn’t understand what that meant. They had gathered that she hadn’t broken any bones and hence concluded that there was nothing wrong with her. He had given up after a while, allowing them to find out for themselves.
They reached the reception and Gaurav demanded an audience with Dr. Adnani. He was politely told that he could meet the specialist after a couple of hours. No amount of arguing made the receptionist budge. “I’m sorry sir, but the doctor has appointments lined up continuously. I can ensure a ten-minute slot just before he goes on his rounds.” Even that could be made possible only because the doctor had left instructions that he wanted to meet Anya Chhabria’s family if and when they turned up.
Gaurav gave her a curt nod before turning to Amal and Farhan. “It’s still visiting hours, right? Let’s go meet Anya.”
“Uncle, please understand that Anya is ill. We need to remain calm while visiting her,” pleaded Farhan.
Gaurav frowned at his son-in-law. “Tell me what you are doing with us down here, when that Dev Wadhwa is holding your wife’s hand and staying by her side?”
Stumped for a second, Farhan thought on his feet. “But uncle, you only told me to come down here with you.”
“But what is that man doing by my daughter’s bedside?”
“Shall we go to the canteen? We are in everyone’s way,” requested Farhan. Anya’s father insisted on speaking loudly however much Farhan lowered his voice. And people were staring at them by now.
Amal wiped her face with a handkerchief, sniffing loudly. “I could do with a cup of tea. Let’s go.”
With a sigh of relief, Farhan escorted them to the back of the building and seated them at a table, before going to the self-service counter to get three cups of tea.
Sipping from his cup, Gaurav continued with his interrogation. “Where were you when Anya had the accident?”
“I was at work.” Farhan lied through his teeth, not daring to tell the other man the truth. He wasn’t going back on his promise to Anya, to keep the divorce a secret from her parents.
“But later? You told us only last night that she was ill.”
“Anya was going out for the weekend with her friends. But the accident happened and they couldn’t find any identification on her. Even when she woke up, she couldn’t remember anything and so the hospital couldn’t inform her family.” Farhan felt terrible about it, despite Arth and Dev having reassured him that there wasn’t much he could have done under the circumstances. It was a quirk of destiny that things had happened the way they had. But that didn’t stop Farhan from feeling guilty.
“But I don’t understand,” said Amal, “Anya looks totally normal. You saw how she shouted at us to get out of her room. That’s her normal behaviour, no respect for her parents or elders at all. I can’t believe that she’s unable to recognise us. That’s such a strange diagnosis.”
“Aunty, I think it’s best if Dr. Adnani explains it all to you. I also only understand to some extent as I’m no expert.”
“I still don’t know what Dev Wadhwa is doing with her. Did Anya know him from before?”
Farhan shook his head. “No uncle. Dev happened to be at the scene of the accident. He had only gone with her to the hospital in the ambulance. When the police couldn’t find who the accident victim was, Dev stayed back to care for her and even paid the hospital bill. He was the first person she saw when she opened her eyes. It’s understandable that she’s become attached to him.”
Gaurav’s scowl turned blacker as he didn’t like what his son-in-law was saying. How can his married daughter get close to a strange man? And Farhan didn’t seem to mind. He just couldn’t relate to this modern generation at all. He said, “Arre, they must have definitely found her cell phone or her handbag. There must have been some kind of identification. The police are also dumb.”
Did the man even listen when anyone spoke? Farhan had told him at least four times that Anya’s car had been flattened and her phone had been in smithereens. He had also explained that they couldn’t find her handbag or any papers. Just now, he simply nodded, saving his breath.
The three of them waited to meet the doctor, Farhan having the most difficult time as Anya’s parents continued to shoot questions at him, most of them repetitive.
8
Anya held back the tears that were pushing against her shut eyelids. But one escaped and ran down the left side, falling into her pillow. What was wrong with her? How much ever she strained her brain, her mind, she couldn’t recall anything, not even her parents. Everything was blank. She only knew her life from the moment she had opened her eyes on her hospital bed. She supposed she must thank God for Dev’s presence. Though he had mentioned that they had met before, they obviously hadn’t known each other well. Otherwise, he would have known her surname and would have had her cell number.
What did all that matter anyway? Anya couldn’t remember anyone from her life prior to her accident. Considering that, she knew Dev better than the few others who had walked into her present life. Farhan seemed nice. He had spent a couple of hours with her, when Dev had had to run on an urgent errand yesterday.
“We grew up together, Anya,” Farhan had s
aid in a gentle voice. “We met on the first day in Junior KG, at a small school in Chandigarh. You were chubby and cute, wearing two plaits. The boys were aggressive and I preferred to spend time with you.”
Anya nodded, listening, trying to recall the scene. Blank!
“We studied together till the tenth standard. After that, you went on to do commerce in Junior College and then BMS, while I did arts and BMM, though we continued to study in the same college.”
Anya listened avidly. He seemed to have been with her throughout her life. Did they love each other? Somehow, he felt more like a sibling than a lover. She nodded again, waiting for him to continue.
“You know something,” Farhan’s voice turned softer than ever, “You were the first one to know that I was gay.” His eyes turned gentle as he looked at her. “You never judged me. While my parents wanted to kill me and several of my friends disappeared from my life, you, Anya, were the only one who stood by me.” He got emotional. “You were the one who gave me the strength to accept myself for what I am.”
Anya’s eyes went wide. Farhan was gay and she had known about it. But her mind still drew a blank at the thought.
“There was tremendous pressure from my parents, for me to get married. They didn’t give me a choice as I’m their eldest born. And there you were, undergoing a similar experience, all because you were an only child. Your parents were also insistent that you get married. We had just turned twenty-two, and it was like facing bull-dozers. Our respective parents were wearing out our strong stance. I didn’t want to cheat a woman into marrying me, when my inclinations were otherwise. You didn’t want to get married just for the heck of it, to some stranger. That’s when we both cooked up an idea between us.”
His eyes turned mischievous, surprising her. Farhan had seemed like a serious type of person until then. “What did we do?” she asked him.
“We got married to each other,” he laughed. “Seriously, that’s what we did,” he said, seeing her startled look. “Although in name only. We were two friends setting out to rescue one another from a dire situation. And it worked. My parents weren’t happy that I was wedding a non-Parsi and they cut off ties with me. I tried to keep in touch but gave up after a few attempts. Anyway, they never cared for my way of life and nor did they accept that I am gay. Your parents didn’t mind your tying the knot with me, even if I didn’t belong to your Sindhi community. All they wanted was for someone to marry you and take you off their hands as you were already twenty-two.”
Flaming Sun Collection 3: Perfect Twins Find Anya (Box Set with 3 novellas) Page 14
