"Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be."
~Kurt Vonnegut
Lying had never come easy to me, but every day that passed, pretending became a little easier. It became easier to convince myself that I was who I had told the world I was; that I truly was Rajni Shukla. Through her I could be everything that I hadn't had the courage to be as Humaira Siddiqqui. My only weakness in this lie, the one who was a constant threat to my composure, the person I loved dearly, Ayaan Ahmed Khan.
I'd promised myself to maintain my distance from him. How hard could it be? Especially since, now, I knew for a fact that he would never love me the way I did him. I'd even used Vikram Shukla as a ruse, a husband who in my mind embodied Ayaan, the only difference being that Vikram loved Rajni. He loved Rajni the way Ayaan couldn't love Humaira.
Sitting with Rajni in the bus listening to her talk about how much Vikram loved her, had created a yearning within me. Wanting to know what it would feel like to be loved like that. To be sought after like that. I had allowed myself to believe that Ayaan would someday come to think of me the same way, but his angry words that day reiterated what I'd known for a while. He didn't love me. He'd never loved me. He could never love me.
That didn't matter now. I wasn't Humaira any longer. I was Rajni. Rajni Shukla.
Eyes closed, hands clenched at my side I repeated the name in my head, hoping to banish any thought of Ayaan in my head. It only worked for a minute. As soon as I felt the warmth of his palm closing over my clenched fingers, any effort to maintain my façade evaded me.
I opened my eyes to find his brown ones staring into mine, concern clearly etched in them. He wondered if anything was wrong; if I was unwell. How could I tell him that my only source of illness stemmed from him? Instead I just smiled, assuring him that I was well.
All it took was one look, one touch and I was back to where I'd started. My heart bursting with giddiness, my fingers itching to ruffle his slightly unkempt hair, and my arms wishing they could be wrapped around him, savoring his warmth.
No matter how easy lying had become, I couldn't convince myself that I had no feelings for him. No matter how hard I tried to remember that he didn't love me, I couldn't convince myself to forget him. No matter what I called myself, Humaira or Rajni, I couldn't convince my heart from responding to him. No matter whom I pretended to be, I could never change who I always was, and had always been. A fool. A hopeless fool. One that couldn't seem to stop herself from loving, Ayaan.