Adoption into India

Chapter 7- A Family

Sara's POV

How I found myself on the bed, draping half-out literally, I didn't know. All I knew was that Imtiaz had left me and it had been approximately, I looked back again at the clock for what seemed the thousandth time, six hours and twenty three minutes since I was a single mother. I half expected it all to be a joke, Im to come back through the door and announcing that the past hours had all been a figment of my imagination, all a bad dream. But then the anxiety had got to me, and I had cruelly reminded myself by vomiting in the bathroom, that this loneliness was here to stay. That it was now a part of my life.

Ever heard the song- Lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, I have no body of my own- yup, my state right now- half shocked, half hysterical, and it seemed half hyper. They say you should listen to a lot of break-up songs in order to get over the pain. But did I actually want to? Leaving and trying to get over your husband is possibly the worst thing that you can do. Ever heard of a proper Hindu wedding, that was the ceremony Imtiaz and I bound us under, three years ago. This ceremony declares you husband and wife, not just for your current life, but for the next six lifetimes. I had been bound to my husband for seven lifetimes. Might seem like a damn terrifying possibility to most people, stuck with the same man/woman for another six reincarnations, no thank you! But we had gotten it done willingly, happily. All for naught. He had left me in three years, let alone lifetime! I used to think that this unhappiness, how far exaggerated it was in Bollywood Movies, of a dark pit of emptiness, a dark hole in the depths of your stomach, was purely just pish-posh. But maybe there was an iota of truth in them. This pit that I felt now was endless. Far worse than what was projected in these TV soaps and movies. They said it went away with time, but looking at the chocolate wrappers scattered around the bed, I didn't think it was ever possible.

DING-DONG

It was the front doorbell. With swollen red eyes, tear tracks down my face, smudged make-up, and a heavy heart, I definitely didn't want to answer the door. "Harry, sweetie," I croaked out from the bedroom, "Could you check who is at the door, please? I'll be right out." And with that I made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up and answer whoever was waiting. You must think that I should at least be in my senses not to send out a five-year old to check who is at the door. Well, in India we have a cool system, instead of just a wooden door like most houses in the west have; there is an additional wire/net door. So you can see who is at the door without any problems or safety issues. But still I needed to hurry in the bathroom. I washed my face and scrubbed it clean with a towel. So hard that it hurt, a punishment you could say. I took a deep breath in and walked out of the bedroom door to witness a sight, which made me shocked.

Normal POV- Outside the bedroom

Harry heard his new mother's voice and immediately went to oblige her wishes. He reached up to the door knob and twisted it open. Looking from the darkly wired net he saw someone who had been the cruelest man he could think possible.

"Hello, Harry. Wouldn't you let your dad inside?" it was his new father. Or who was supposed to be his new father before he walked out on his mother. Harry crossed his arms across his chest and glared at the man who was kneeling to Harry's level on the other side of the mock-door. "I know you will have a hard time believing this but I really am sorry. All the things I said to you, I didn't mean any of them. They were cruel and though I can't take back what I said to you, I can try to make it up to you and your mother. Please open the door child, I want to try and patch things up." Harry glared even more intensely at the man before him. How dare he? He thought he could just come back here and try to hurt mum even more? Well, now Harry was the man of the house and he wouldn't let this cruel person hurt his mother. But then, Harry bent his head to the right and looked at the man's hands, he had brought a present. Wrapped in blue paper and decorated with silver ribbons it was quite a pretty little thing. Maybe, Harry bit his lip, he actually did want to try and set things straight. It would be nice to have a dad along with a mom. And mom was so upset he left, maybe now she would be happy he came back. Harry reached up and decided to finalize the most important decision that he had made so far in his life, he reached up and opened the bolt. Pushing the door, he let the man inside.

"If you even try to do anything bad to my mother, in turn I will hurt you. And don't think I can't. Now I am happy that I have my freak abilities, because I can hurt the bad men who will try anything with my mother. Understood?" the man nodded. Good, he took Harry seriously.

"Harry, who is--" the question died at Sarayu's throat as she witnessed the interaction between the father and the son. Her eyes were fixed at her husband, tears welled up in her eyes again, but she pushed them aside. Her eyes were already swollen and hurting, she didn't need anymore of the pain. "How dare you come back here? I thought I made it clear that this was my house and that I asked you to leave."

"Oh you did, but see I came back for my things inside the house. Cant leave without them, love, now can I?" Sara scoffed. Love. Asshole.

"Oh, and what are these things? Your clothes, half of which I bought through my credit card as a present, or do you mean this?" she fingered the black and gold beaded necklace at her throat, "the Mangalsutra- the holy necklace of matrimony- that you placed on my throat those years ago? What do you mean by possessions, Imtiaz Ali Khan?!"

"Oh definitely the necklace, and the red-colored sindoor in your hair. All the signs of you being a married woman. And not just that I want back the person who swore herself to me for seven lifetimes. You swore to follow me wherever I went, remember love? So if I leave this house, shouldn't you follow me, my dearest wife?" Sara's mouth was wide open by now, half wanting to scream out obscenities, she settled for the gaping goldfish look. Imtiaz smiled, "Got you, didn't I?"

"It took you quite long to arrange for a come back to kicking you out of the house. Seven hours. I am ashamed."

"And it seems you have no come back for the vows you so willingly took, Sarayu."

"Here's your come-back." Sara reached to her throat and grabbed the necklace. Seeing her move to rip it out of her throat, ripping out any evidence her as a married woman, Imtiaz grabbed her hand and pulled her close. Clasping her tightly in his arms, he looked down at her. She was glaring up at him, and trying to get out of his embrace. If needed she could have kicked him in the shin, and had him on his knees in twenty seconds, but that fact that she was not indicated to him that he still had time to explain. That she was giving him time to get into her good graces.

"I haven't given you the right to take those out yet, love. In my religion it's the man's right to declare the divorce remember?" (A/N: Is this true in Islam? I think so. I have heard but not exactly checked up on this. If it is wrong please forgive me.)

"And according to India's law I reserve the right to say fuck you, dearest husband. And since when did you have the right over any of my actions?"

"Since I loved you. Since I will love you. Forever and ever. Sara I'm sorry. So sorry I made you wait for me to come back, I love you. Don't ever doubt that, jaan." It seemed a weight had been taken off Sara's shoulders. She let out an audible gasp as her knees collapsed beneath her. She curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth. Shaking her head rapidly, she kept on muttering three words- you left me, you left me. Imtiaz gathered the ball in his arms, not that it was hard, Sara was nine inches shorter than him, and kissed her hair gently. Apologizing over and over. "Sorry, so sorry. I just wasn't ready at first. When you told I thought a child. We weren't ready for one. And then I thought. Not ready? Wasn't I ready for a family with the woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? Ready for my children whom I could teach how to play cricket, and how to hold a stethoscope correctly. Didn't I want to piggy-back a little boy who called me Abba (Dad) and you Ammi (Mom). And then I thought about how ready you were for a child maybe you did take this decision in too much of a hurry. Were you even ready for a family? For the responsibility? And so, I designed this cruel test you could say." Sara looked up at him shocked. "I'm sorry but I wanted you to choose between your husband and your child, and I think that you made the perfect choice. And that's why I got this present." He took the present and gave it to Sarayu. Taking it with her shaking hands, she unfolded the ribbons and ripped the wrapping paper. "These are the rough designs for a nameplate outside the house."

Etched on paper was a mock drawing of a name plate to be placed outside the house- Imtiaz, Sarayu, and Harry Khan.

"I want us all to be a family. I want a chance once again to prove that I am the father for Harry. His new dad. Harry," holding open his right arm, the left clasping Sarayu, he beckoned at the little boy who was watching their interaction from the door, "wouldn't you come to dad now and join in the family hug?" Without waiting for even a moment's notice, Harry ran into the open arms of his father. Sara let out a weak chuckle as she fingered the drawing. She looked up into Imtiaz's eyes. He kissed her forehead gently. "I am never leaving again. Can't be rid of me that easy, love. I love you and I love Harry. My child. This is my family from now on, the greatest one could ask for. Shukriya, e- Allah. Allah hu Akbar. (A/N: I think that is rough Urdu and translates to thank you God. God is Great).

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A cruel maniacal laugh, "Stand aside, silly girl." A woman pleading for a child and then green light. Pain. Only Pain.

Harry screamed and thrashed. Sara and Imtiaz instantly woke to the screams of their child. His first night in the house and he was awake from nightmares with his, for the first time, mother and father there to comfort and hold him. To tell him that all was going to be okay. Not like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon who screamed at him to shut up when he was screaming out his throat hoarse. Sara gathered Harry' head in her lap and comforted the crying child, wiping and kissing away his tears.

"You want to tell us what happened, sweetie?" she asked the frightened child who appeared to be calming down after taking a gulp of the water offered to him by his father.

"Green light. I think…maybe it was the traffic signal. Aunt Petunia did say they died in a drunken driving car crash," Harry spoke from his croaky throat. It seemed his voice was going to be like that for a while. It sounded like a really bad nightmare. Thank God tomorrow was Sunday. There was enough time to rest and catch up with things regarding Harry. telling people mostly. Thank god again that Imtiaz was back, Sara wasn't sure how the hell she could have coped up if her husband wasn't there. Adoption really wasn't looked at all that well in India. Something about bad blood and all that. It was a really bad ideology most people carried considering the population crisis in India! But it was hard to change the norms and the beliefs of the people in such a short time span. They would need to understand things from Sara's point of view and then see and judge Harry. It was the way of the Indian world. Don't ask.

"It's all right sweetie. It isn't going to hurt you now." Seeing Harry biting his lip, Sara added, "Would you like to sleep in mum and dad's room today, love?" Harry nodded and got up from his sofa-cum bed and followed them into the bedroom. Sweet dreams, Harry.

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A/N:- Firstly I want to apologize for the delay in the chapter. I had a writer's block, and college started with the work and all that and I just didn't have any time. Only when I got that message from someone to remind me that I had an obligation to the story did I sit down to write it. And here it is.

Secondly, yes it is complete soap opera here. Can't help it. I pondered the idea of a single mother and then I realized that I loved the character of Imtiaz way too much to part with him.

Thirdly, how should I proceed further? Should I take it slow and then give highlights of life till magic school and all that fantasy stuff starts or should I take it real slow with every detail. Give me some help on what lessons should children learn. What should he be caught doing, and other details. Can't furnish a lot right now. So, HELP!!