Of course, I knew that was the last thing she would want to hear, that, if I bothered to say it, I’d likely get some sarcastic remark about stating the obvious and a frustrated question about what she was supposed to do now.
So instead, I decided to relate it to a story, a memory, in the same way she had not twenty-four hours before. ‘Do you remember when I got my provisional? How I wouldn’t even think about lessons at first? She nodded, looking confused. ‘And, when I did finally decide to take them, it was a crash course to just get it over and done with. Even after I got my license, I refused to drive, even though I’d been looking forward to having a car of my own about ‘s’long as I can remember.’
‘Yeah, you wanted an Audi TT hard top convertible in either bright red or deep blue,’ she recalled with a chuckle.
‘My dream car, yeah. But then, all of a sudden, I didn’t want it anymore. The idea of having a car, being behind the wheel, it didn’t appeal to me anymore. Being able to drive didn’t give me the sense of freedom I’d always thought it would, it made me feel trapped instead. But my bike on the other hand…’ I trailed off, recalling the feeling I’d had the first time I’d ever sat on a motorcycle. ‘Li, the very first lesson I had, I knew that was the right choice for me. Sitting on the bike, feeling the power going through it, it gave me this feeling of – of freedom that I’d never felt before, definitely not sitting behind the wheel of a car. And, honestly, I was shit scared before I did it. I just kept thinking that it really wasn’t me; that, as much as I liked the idea of it, riding a motorbike wasn’t really my kind of thing. But then, I did it and well, turns out, it’s completely is my thing.’
For a moment she just kept looking at me and I was half-worried that she didn’t get it. But then she smiled and let out a half-chuckle, shaking her head in a way that said she’d realised she’d just been over-thinking everything. ‘Guess you really never know till you try, huh?’ she said, her eyes filling with a determination that let me know she’d made her decision.
‘And if you don’t try, you may just miss out on discovering yourself,’ I added, giving her a smile, telling her without a word that I was with her, every step of the way like I’d always been and always would be.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘So, let me get this straight,’ Rahul uncle said, staring at the two of us intently. It was the evening after Alia had made her decision and she’d just come clean to her parents. Now, she was stood beside me, fidgeting under the intensity of her dad’s gaze. ‘You found out, nearly a year ago, that you have a heart disease. A life-threatening disease that has no chance of a cure and might require major surgery and you decided you wouldn’t tell us?’
‘Ji, papa,’ she confirmed, voice barely a whisper and eyes trained on the floor.
‘And you knew about it, Jai?’ he asked, turning to me.
‘Ji, uncle,’ I muttered.
‘Ane tame bhi kain na kidhu? You didn’t tell us anything also?’ he demanded, the question clearly rhetorical. ‘Su, tane evitna na laygu ke amne janavo joye? Ki aapri beti ni tabyaat etli karaab che? Didn’t you think we had the right to know?’
‘Sir, of course tamne janavo joye, of course I should have told you. But Li asked me not to tell anybody, not even you. Toh pachi, hun kevitna kou tamne? How could I tell you? She asked me not to and, haan tumara hak che pun enu ey che na? It’s her life, it’s up to her who to tell, when to tell them. It wasn’t on me to say anything, not until she said it was okay,’ I retorted, unsure where I’d suddenly got the guts to say any of it; since I’d lost both my parents pretty early, aunty and uncle had become as good as my mum and dad – under any other circumstances I never would’ve had the courage to talk back like that.
From the stunned expression on uncle’s face, I wasn’t the only one stunned by my words. A shocked silence settled over the room as he stood there, blinking at me like he couldn’t believe what’d just happened.
It took a few moments for my brain to fully catch up with my mouth but, as the silence stretched on, shame filled me as I realised exactly what I’d just done. ‘Uncle, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t’ve –’ I began to apologise, only for aunty to cut me off.
‘Nahi betta, don’t apologise,’ she told me with a smile. ‘Te kaink kotu toh na kidhu. That it’s Alia’s condition, Alia’s choice, ee toh sachi vaat che; it’s true. Do I wish that my daughter might have told us earlier? Yes, of course. But –’ She raised her voice a little then, clearly noticing the apology on the tip of her daughter’s tongue and wanting to speak before Alia interrupted. ‘But, I understand why you kept it quiet for so long.’
‘You do?’ Alia asked, sounding surprised as she looked to her mum, completely ignoring the I-told-you-so look I sent her way.
‘Of course I do. I mean, tu ek raat matte hospital ma hathi and we all went crazy, just after one night. If we’d known about this from the beginning, there’s no telling what would’ve happened,’ her mum said, practically reading Alia’s mind.
‘Your mother’s right,’ Rahul uncle admitted with a sigh. ‘As much as I may hate that you hid something so big from us, it’s not hard to understand why you did. After all, you’ve always been the dreamer of this house and, if we’d known, our worry might’ve come in the way of your Plan.’
‘Actually papa, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,’ Alia said, her tone hesitant and her words halting.
‘Okay, go ahead,’ he said, gesturing for her to speak.
‘See, the thing is, practically my whole life, I’ve had my plan. I knew what I wanted from life and everything I’ve done has been to help me achieve that,’ she began, watching her parents nervously for any sign of a reaction.
When neither of them spoke, she continued. ‘But, because I was so devoted to it, I missed out on a lot. I spent so many weekends studying, researching, trying to do as much as I could to build up my CV and make me a better candidate for uni. Doing everything I could to make sure I could get where I wanted to go. But, because of all that, I skipped out on pretty much everything else. I was so focused on getting somewhere in life that I didn’t live. And that’s never bothered me before. I always thought that there’d be time for it later, after uni, when I had a real job and could pay my own way and all, but now… now I don’t know how much time I’ve got and I don’t think I want to waste whatever I’ve got left with my head in a book,’ she told them, the defiant look on her face only partially hiding how badly she wanted her parents’ approval.
A contemplative silence filled the room when she finished. Uncle and aunty looked at each other, silently conversing for a few minutes before they turned back to their daughter. ‘So, if you don’t want to go to uni, you want to do what?’ aunty asked, no kind of judgement in her voice or on her face, just plain curiosity.
‘I… I don’t know exactly,’ Alia admitted, nervous again. ‘I guess I just want to live life without a plan, go with the flow and see what happens.’
‘There’s no plan at all?’ uncle clarified, sounding almost doubtful. ‘Nothing at all you want to do?’
‘Well, not exactly,’ Alia answered. ‘There’re some things I wanna do, places I wanna go.’
‘There is still a plan then,’ aunty stated with a fond smile.
‘Not a plan ma, not really,’ Alia denied with a shake of her head. ‘It’s more of a bucket list.’
‘And knowing you, that won’t be a short list,’ her mother said, affection lacing the laugh that followed Alia’s nod. ‘Let’s see it then.’ Alia nodded and moved to where her backpack lay on the floor, pulling out the same notebook she’d shown me a couple days ago and handing it over to her mum.
Aunty opened it and read through the list silently, eyebrows raising at somethings, furrowing at others, a smirk coming across her face at a few.
After a quiet three minutes that stretched on forever, she shut the book and handed it back over to her daughter. ‘Some of these, a lot actually, are doable. Jai could probably help you with a
few of them – especially the first and last,’ aunty teased, the blush that covered Alia’s face making me think she’d added at least one thing to the list since I’d seen it. ‘But there’s a few things I’m not sure about. Travelling with such a serious heart condition, I’m not saying it’s impossible but I can’t imagine it’s all that advisable.’
‘At all?’ Alia questioned, visibly upset.
‘I think some of it might be okay; the things in Europe, you can travel by train and I think it’ll be okay. But to go to India, before we make that decision, a doctor needs to clear it.’
‘And if they say yes?’ Alia questioned, clearly trying and failing not to get her hopes up.
‘If the doctor says yes, we’ll do anything and everything we can to make sure you tick off as many things as you can,’ he dad answered before her mum could.
‘Papa, you’ve not even seen –’ Alia began to say, clearly shocked, only for uncle to cut her off.
‘I don’t need to. My daughter is dying and these are her last wishes. I’ll make them come true.’
Part Three: Bucket List
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alia
Telling my parents about my condition was a weight off my chest. Now that they knew, I no longer had to worry about them accidentally finding out which meant there was one less thing for me to stress about.
I no longer had to worry about uni either. The day after I told my parents about the changes to the plan – or rather, the complete and total abolishment of it – I called the University of Manchester and told them I was no longer interested in attending. For a minute after I put the phone down, I felt panicked, empty and lost; I’d just officially destroyed my carefully outlined future.
But then, I realised that I was finally truly free from the pressure I’d been putting on myself since I was in primary school and the panic subsided, turning to excitement. I realised that I was looking at it all wrong. It wasn’t emptiness but lightness and I wasn’t lost, just beginning an adventure.
If the thought of no longer being tied down by my ambitions had been liberating, it becoming reality was like a breath of fresh air after being locked indoors for years.
It took a while for the high of freedom to wear off but, when it did, I remembered I had to make an appointment with my doctor so I called the surgery and made an appointment, getting lucky enough to get one for the next day.
I’d been apprehensive going into the surgery, absolutely terrified that I’d be told travel wasn’t something I could do but Dr. London cleared me to fly, provided I took precautions and made sure to take my meds, all of them.
My parents were still understandably hesitant about sending me all the way to India but Jai stepped in and reminded them that some of the best heart specialists in the world were in India so, should anything happen to me while we were there, I’d be in good hands. While they still weren’t particularly keen on sending two eighteen-year-olds halfway across the world, they relented. Provided we stayed with my mama in Mumbai. I’d whined a little at that, more because I hated being treated like a little kid than because I had anything against staying with my uncle.
From what I remember of the last time I met my Amin mama five years ago, he was a nice guy and I’d gotten along with him pretty well – he’d even told me that if I ever visited him in Mumbai, he’d take me ‘round the city on his motorbike. My dad had almost had a heart attack at that but that was before I’d spent over a year riding around on the back of Jai’s back.
Being a nice guy didn’t mean that mama wouldn’t treat me like a kid though. Given that the last time he’d seen me I’d been thirteen, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if he still thought of me that way.
But, if staying with my uncle, aunt and cousins was the only way I’d be allowed to get to go to India, I’d deal with the probability of being treated like I was still thirteen. Of course, that didn’t mean that I didn’t whine like a baby when ma set the condition but I got over it soon enough and dad found some reasonable tickets for the middle of November. ‘Are you sure you want to go?’ papa had asked me for the millionth time as he entered his card details to pay for the tickets – both of them because he’d quickly silenced Jai’s protests and insistence on paying his own way with ‘tu bhi maro betta cho,’ leaving Jai with no argument unless he wanted to tell my dad not to consider him as part of the family.
‘Haan papa, I’m sure,’ I assured him once again.
‘You know we might not be able to send you to Iceland as well right?’ he asked, looking for all the world like he was worried about disappointing me.
‘I’d rather go to India, papa,’ I said with a smile. ‘Iceland only has the one attraction, India has a ton.’
‘We’ll still be able to manage France and Amsterdam,’ he told me, ‘but India and Iceland in the same year…’
‘Papa, it’s okay. I get it. And besides, if I desperately want to go, I’ve got some money saved up, Jai does too. We can pay our own way if needs must.’
‘Nahi,’ he denied immediately. ‘Apre paas toh che. Taro paisa vaprwanu kai jaroor nati.’ I sighed and rolled my eyes, more than tired of hearing those words from my parents; anytime I said I could pay for anything, they’d give me the same response: we have money, there’s no need for you to use yours.
‘Papa, paisa nahi vapru toh su karu? What else am I going to do with it?’ I asked, doing my best to keep my tone from showing my exasperation.
‘Save it. Kaam awse.’ I’d had this answer too, a million times over and, usually it shut me right up. But I couldn’t see how it would come handy later in life anymore, not with my life rapidly drawing to an end.
‘Kyaare? Sena matte?’ I questioned, surprising my father. ‘When is that money going to be used if I don’t use it now? What else am I going to use it for. Saathe toh nah lejavay ne?’
He looked at me for a moment before sighing. ‘No, you can’t take it with you. I just wish you would have more time to figure out what to do with it.’
I knew that that was the moment that reality sunk in for my dad and I couldn’t help but feel terrible for being so harsh about it – even if it was unintentional. I’d had time to get used to the fact that I was terminally ill, had time to think about it before I made my decision to live as fully as possible while I still could. My parents, on the other hand, had had it all sprung on them all at once because I’d been too much of a coward to tell them what was going on from the beginning.
All the same, it was strange to see, strange to watch as the facts caught up with my dad and he realised his youngest child, the one he’d tried hardest to keep from facing life’s hardships, had a life-threatening disease.
He looked lost, like he’d been following a sat-nav and it had led him in completely the wrong direction before just shutting down on him.
I had no idea what to do at that point. My dad is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. He’d always taken whatever life threw his way, met it head-on, and hardly ever let anyone see that he was suffering – least of all his kids. He always found his way in the end, had unshakable faith that, whoever was up there wouldn’t put us in a place we couldn’t get back out of. To see him look like he was in the middle of a field in the night with no way to tell where to go was just about the worst feeling in the world.
Chapter Twenty-six
Jai
Finally being free of Alia’s secret made me feel a whole lot lighter. While I sure as hell could lie easily and convincingly to just about anybody – anybody who wasn’t Alia that is – and keep secrets like my life depended on it, I hated to have to hide from her family, my family, like that. Especially when the thing I was hiding was so big, so important.
But, as relieved as I was about the fact that Alia had finally come clean, part of me kind of wished she hadn’t. It’s not like I particularly liked being the only one who knew but, in a way, it had been better really. Her family did deserve to know the truth, of course they did; that was something I’d be
en sure of from the very beginning. But, when finding out the truth left all of them hurt and confused, I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not it really had been the right thing to do.
Logically, I knew that it had been. It was better that they found out relatively early on, when it looked like Alia would manage to pull through for longer than they’d originally expected than later when she got worse – or something serious happened. But knowing what the logical thing was didn’t make it any easier to deal with the results of it. It didn’t make it easier to see the look on aunty’s face when she caught sight of the picture of a grinning, six-year-old Alia with her front two teeth missing that hung on the picture wall in the living room. It didn’t make it any easier to hear the way bhaiya’s voice broke when he asked his baby sister to tell him she was joking or to see bhabhi try to discretely wipe at the tears that fell when Alia said she wasn’t or to watch Anjali di stare resolutely at the wall in front of her, hands curled into fists and teeth clenched in an attempt to steady herself.
Not one of us had the heart to try to explain it to Zia though, something that I couldn’t help but be grateful about. Not only was the toddler way too young to understand but having to sit her down and try to make her understand would mean it was over, that we’d all given up hope.
And if there was one thing the Sharma family just didn’t do, it was give up hope. The universe could hurl every damn obstacle it had at them but they’d keep going. Even when it seemed like there was no way out, they’d keep on hoping.
They were all holding out hope, praying for a miracle. And, even though Alia dismissed every single it’ll be okay and they’ll find something, I knew she was hoping too.
Have a Heart Page 14
