Zaara didn't see his ghost after she got married. Or after she heard of his death. Or after the divorce.
He must truly be dead, she thought, though just thinking it made her want to fling herself off a roof so that she could be reborn at the same time he was. If Veer's face didn't haunt her, maybe it meant that he had moved on. That her heart would recover.
She continued thinking that-until the day she arrived in Veer's village. His parents (technically his aunt and uncle, but Zaara had already forgotten that they were so) met her on the outskirts of the village, with a small crowd behind them. Riding up on the tractor, Zaara found herself searching the faces of the crowd, to see if she could remember any names-
And then she saw his face. Watching her solemnly from the crowd. Her sight seemed to narrow in on him, blurring everything else, until he smiled, turned away, and disappeared behind someone's head. The tractor rumbled to a stop, and the sudden silence knocked Zaara back into reality. She slid down and ran into the arms of Veer's parents, all of them crying, and she promised she would never leave them, that she would take care of them and the village as Veer would have done…
A hair was caught in her eye, and she reached up to brush it away along with the tears, but Veer's hand was already there. Their fingers intertwined for a moment, and Zaara stared into his tear-filled eyes for a breathless moment before he walked behind his father's back and was gone.
She tried to ignore him, but he was everywhere. Playfully taking the broom from her hands as she swept the new high school, stealing a sip of her morning tea, and always leaning just outside the front door, so that she got in the habit of never looking to the sides when she walked out of the house. The worst was the night time, just before she fell asleep. She would lie awake for hours, waiting for him to lie down as well, and when he did, she would squeeze her eyes shut, body tense, wishing he would go away; until he snaked his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear that he was here now, she needn't stay up for him-as if it was her fault that him holding her in the night always woke her up. Usually she would only shed a few tears before sleep came, but if she whispered out loud that she wanted him to go away, then he would. That was the only time that he would, but not before leaving a soft kiss on her lips that burned inside of her heart because he never went beyond that, would never go beyond that because he was dead.
He was dead.
It went on like this for several months, until the Lodi celebration came around again. Veer hadn't appeared for several days, which surprised her. Why wasn't he around on the anniversary of their meeting? But in his absence, she managed to cheer while helping with the preparations, joke around with Maati, and for the first time in a year really felt like herself again. She worried, a little, that this meant his ghost had finally been reincarnated, but she forced herself not to think about it.
And then the night of Lodi came, and she sat with the other women even though she knew no one would dare declare his love to her (she would have to reject him anyway). She giggled with the others when a handful of sesame was thrown into the fire and the rejected man sat down, frowning. She was just whispering about how sad he looked to Shabbo when she heard his voice.
"I declare my love to you and ask for your hand in marriage!" Zaara stopped in mid-sentence, and looked across the fire into the face of Veer Pratap Singh. He was wearing the same light blue outfit that he wore last year, a serious and hopeful look on his face as he stared straight at her, broken sugar cane in his hand. But as they looked at each other, a line of blood trickled down his face. Dark crimson liquid started spreading across his chest, slicing him in half. But he stood perfectly still, holding her gaze, that same look of desperate hope on his face, until she heard the crack of another sugar cane and saw that a different girl had accepted the love proposal. Zaara's eyes snapped back to Veer-but he was gone. In his place was an entirely different, beaming young man.
Stumbling blindly to her feet, the cheers of everyone around her seemed to grow distant. She nearly tripped over the other women in her haste, and started running and running, dropping her sari somewhere along the way.
Maati saw her leave and immediately took to her feet, chasing her all the way to the hockey field and calling out her name. Zaara, Zaara. Falling to her knees at the edge of the wheat field, Zaara pressed her forehead against the grass and gasped for breath. Maati caught up with her and stood for a moment, wheezing, until she heard Zaara's sobbing. Gathering the young woman into her arms, Maati silently rocked her back and forth. Finally, Zaara quieted a little, taking only a few quickened breaths.
"When Veer was little," Maati said quietly, "I would sometimes hear him crying at night. He stopped after a few years, but much later he told me that he used to have nightmares about his parents. I couldn't bear the thought that he had been in pain, and wouldn't tell me." Maati started stroking Zaara's hair, absentmindedly undoing the braid. "I've seen your face these past few months, Zaara. You see him, don't you?"
Zaara turned her face into Maati's shoulder and nodded, taking deep breaths to steady herself.
"Ever since I arrived in the village, he's been with me. He haunts my steps, he sings into my ears at night, he-" she felt a hand on her hair and started, looking wildly around, but it was just Maati, still holding her with a sad look in her eyes.
"This isn't right, Zaara. Veer wouldn't want you to be in pain all the time." she lowered her voice. "Is he here now?"
Zaara looked carefully around. "No… I left him behind at the bonfire." She gripped Saraswati's arms. "He was covered in blood, Maati! He's never been like that before…"
"You see? It wasn't Veer. Veer would not give you nightmares. You hear me?" She took her chin so that Zaara was forced to look into her eyes. "Veer himself is not haunting you, it's just his shadow. The day that you see this shadow and feel at peace, you'll know that that one is Veer. Until then, you must let go of the pain." She moved her hands to wipe away Zaara's tears. "You have to keep going."
After that night, she saw him less and less often, and usually farther away. Each time there was a stab of pain around her heart, so she held onto Maati's words and decided that it wasn't Veer.
Years passed, decades passed, and yet Veer was never completely gone. All those fake memories of him holding her and kissing her tear-strained cheeks slowly faded away, making the real memories more brilliant. When Saraswati and Chaudhary passed away, Veer touched her for the last time, his hand strong and sure on her shoulder as she and Shabbo cried in each other's arms.
And then the strange, crying woman showed up on her doorstep, pressed the medallion into her hand, and told her that Veer Pratap Singh was still alive.
Zaara looked away from the stranger's face, a shocked tear rolling down her cheek. Veer, a young Veer with his brown leather jacket and yellow shirt was standing in the courtyard.
"He's in prison," the woman said. "I'm his lawyer, and I've come to take you to him." The young Veer lifted a hand of farewell, smiling. Zaara closed her eyes and leaned into the lawyer's embrace, listening to her talk. When she opened her eyes again, the young Veer was gone, never to return.
It was time, now, to go and find the real Veer.
