|: Watching Over You :|
A/N: I, for one, literally bawled my eyes out while writing this, so take this as a tissue warning.
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Since the past few months when Purvi had been visiting him, she was greeted by that one single scene- he sitting on his favourite rocking chair engrossed deep in thought, a distant look on his gradually sinking features. Therefore, today when she entered his house, she couldn't help herself from letting out a faint chuckle on seeing him in the same position.
Twenty-seven years, she counted. Twenty-seven long years since they both had retired from the CID. In all the years they had worked together and many more after that, they had engulfed an abundance of moments- light and forlorn, a plethora of memories- beautiful and painful. Times they had shared with their colleagues, their friends who had been family. Instances when he had made her laugh till her sides ached, times when he had annoyed her to the extent of making her pull her hair, occasions when he had shared the deepest of secrets with her and moments when she had been the only one he had relied upon.
After all these months, Purvi was unable to fathom why faint tears pricked her eyes every time she visited him, watching over him from a distance as he sat staring into nothingness, a strange despondent yet calm look on his wrinkled face.
Her eyes subconsciously wandered to the photograph hanging on the wall. The CID team. Their team. All of them giving a radiant, confident smile, posing with all the grace and aura of a CID officer. She smiled in spite of herself. The cases they had investigated together, the disguises they had donned, the struggles they had faced and supported each other through times thick and thin- everything came crashing down on her in a flash and the tears in her eyes threatened to give way.
It took her a while to register he had been calling her name several times before she came back to reality. She let her eyes stay on the picture for a few seconds before answering him. "Where on earth are you, Purvi?!," he seemed evidently irritated after not having received a response from her in a long time. "Sorry Pankaj, I- nothing!," she trailed off, not able to come up with anything to say.
Sometimes, she wished, she didn't have to be the only one to be able to remember everything of the past.
"You still haven't told me what makes you cry every time you come," he questioned, scrambling off his rocking chair clutching his walking stick. "Do I trouble you so much?," he asked giving her his typical chortle and she laughed shaking her head in exasperation.
In spite of everything, Pankaj had the same tickling side to him after all these years. She gave a meek laugh. He knew she liked his occasional witty kicks. Only at times when he remembered.
Six years since he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Six years since he recalled only glimpses of his life, of himself, of her. There were times when he recollected nothing- his name, his identity of a retired CID officer, the people in his life and their existence. Every single instance shattered her, breaking her from within and all she wanted to do was run. Run as far as her weakened knees could take her, to a dark corner where she could cry her heart out, letting go of all the pain, all the despair she had locked inside her. All the accumulated grief that was killing her slowly with every passing second, scrunching her soul.
But then she remembered, she was the only one he had. The only person left for him. If he had kids, things would have been different. And then she realized she should watch over him, be with him till he needed her. And even beyond that.
"You know, I was talking to Snehal. Nowadays all she does is constantly blabber about how I am neglecting my health," Pankaj momentarily glanced at the photo frame of a naïve, relatively young-looking lady placed on the table before continuing, "When she comes back, could you tell her not to complain so much? It hurts me alright, in this old age! And for God's sake, I'm absolutely fit, but she just doesn't believe!," he supplied with an expression similar to the innocence of a five-year-old, and for a moment, Purvi couldn't help but smile and adore his tactics, despite knowing the person he was referring to had passed away several year ago.
"Your wife is right, you know. You should be more careful about your health. Specially with the medicines. You never take them on time," she provided, flashing a broad grin, the dimples radiating her pretty face even in this feeble, sinking age.
Snehal, Pankaj's wife had been a wonderful wife and a friend. Purvi recollected how she dedicated her life to love and care for her husband throughout their marriage without uttering a single word in protest, rarely living for herself. Purvi remembered how happy she had been the day they both had got married, all the times she and her own family spent with both of them, how Snehal had always been a big strength for Pankaj during his challenging times.
For a moment, it pierced her heart recalling how deeply crumbling it had been for Pankaj the day Snehal died post a prolonged illness and how she, herself had lost a great friend.
It was memories like these which made Purvi ponder whether it was a good thing that Pankaj didn't remember his wife's death. One of the countless memories which Purvi alone preferred to have bottle up within her and let her heart scrunch remembering them.
Because she knew well, Pankaj had always been sensitive toward the people he loved. He hated fighting with them. He hated goodbyes. Today, if he recollected most of those people he loved are no longer living, he definitely wouldn't be able to cope with the loss. And nor would the people who loved him. There were times when he didn't even remember her, giving her a questioning look when she visited. But Purvi realized too soon she would have to deal with it.
From beneath his spectacles, Pankaj gave her a look. "I thought you come here to give me company, not to join hands with my wife!," he spoke in a shaky, weak voice and Purvi nodded. "Alright, sorry! But you better take your medicines now. It's time. Then we will have lunch- I have cooked your favourite peas and potato curry today- and then again take another dose after half an hour," she informed and Pankaj limped to the dining area, muttering something about the doctor's 'useless' instructions under his breath.
This had been a routine for them since many years now, ever since Snehal had passed away. Purvi would come over to look after Pankaj, bringing lunch along and they would eat together after which she would help him take his medicines. Then they would talk till the sun set.
"I'm going to tell Freddy sir too the next time he visits, to stop lecturing me on how I am ignoring my diet. As if he himself has ever followed his own!," Pankaj grumbled, the grey brows on his face furrowing slightly and Purvi winced. At the mention of Freddy, Purvi could no longer contain herself, and she excused herself to the restroom, tears blurring her vision.
How she wished she could tell Pankaj the truth that Freddy, the colleague they had loved the most, the friend who had been the dearest to them had departed this world ten years ago! Almost all of them had, their old colleagues. How she wished she could tell Pankaj the fact that his beloved Freddy sir or ACP sir or anyone else would never again visit to lecture him.
How she wished she could scream to Pankaj at the top of her lungs that all the people he longed to see would never return.
If only the doctor hadn't advised her against it.
As she looked at her image in the mirror after having cried her heart out, she figured she must wash her face clean before she made her way back outside.
Being strong was her only choice even when her soul was crushing down from within.
When she got back, Purvi saw that Pankaj had already gotten away from the dining table and was sitting back in his rocking chair. He looked up as she approached him, wary of whether the pain was still showing in her swollen eyes. Thankfully he didn't seem to notice much. "Ohh you're back. Come, let's have lunch," he said preparing to stand, to which she shook her head. "We just ate, Pankaj," she informed and he grimaced. "Ohh did we? Well, never mind," he shrugged.
Half an hour later, when she went to his room to fetch his medicines, she smiled at his collection of various electric gadgets and technical equipment, recalling how he loved to be tech-savvy back in their old days, often coming forward to explain to their team the latest technological aspects involved in an investigation. Purvi gently grazed a camera drone lying in a corner, remembering how Pankaj had promised to gift a similar one to her grandson Nirav who had absolutely been in awe of it.
"You know, sometimes I wonder what would I have done if not for you. I don't know why no one else visits me. Have they really forgotten me?," Pankaj wanted to know, a crown creasing his forehead. Purvi took a deep breath, looking away momentarily as she handed him his tablets and a glass of water. "They are just busy, Pankaj! And no one has forgotten you, don't worry. They.. they all remember. All of them," she answered, her voice hoarse.
It had been excruciatingly heart-breaking and increasingly difficult lying to him, giving him false felt she was cheating him. 'No one ever forgot you. No one. If only you remembered, Pankaj!,' she spoke to herself.
"What's your grand-daughter's name again?," Pankaj asked as Purvi prepared to leave that evening after making sure he had well relaxed in his favourite rocking chair before his nurse arrived. "Pari." Purvi answered, for probably the hundredth time by now. "Yeah! Which standard is she in now?," he inquired, and Purvi replied with surprising patience. "She is done with her education, Pankaj. She is getting married now," she responded, again for the hundredth time.
There were so many questions he had, so many things he wanted to know- the same things every time- and Purvi never seemed to mind answering them all. Each time, with the same unfailing patience.
Probably it was meant to be this way, she thought. Their friendship, their relationship of so many years. Of her watching over him, of taking care of him. Because somewhere she knew she owed it to him, for all the memories they had shared, for all the moments they had lived. Which is why, Purvi wondered she will continue looking after him, caring for him till either of them breathed their last.
The bond they shared, of best friends, of a brother and a sister had always been very special, very unique, she realized which may have been the reason everyone close to her had understood- her husband Nishant, her children and her grand-children, which may have been why they always supported and encouraged her and promised to look after Pankaj if at all, she passed on before him.
For the last time as she stood by the door that evening before leaving the house, she looked back at Pankaj sitting comfortably in his chair, a strange peace on his face, she let the lone tear escape her eye vowing to always be there for him, and being thankful that in spite of everything, Pankaj had been the best brother she could ask for.
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~~ The End ~~