“Why would you do that?”, and a heavy sigh was all that she could utter before falling into a deep silence. She just dropped back into her chair, without a single care if it was even there. It was as if someone had taken away her ability to hear and speak. There was a storm boiling inside her, but she wasn't able to catch hold of even a single word.
Atria, the maid, watched with worry while dusting the lamp. Knowing that she wasn't in a position to enquire, she waited for a few moments while working slowly, in case Kruti decided to share the news with her.
Yes, this wasn't the first time that thunder had struck this abode. In fact, it was almost occasional to have a sombre mood around the place.
The weather outside seemed gloomy, yet on opening the window pane, Atria was pleasantly surprised by the cool breeze flowing through. She kept the windows open for Kruti to feel better and went to the attic for further dusting.
Kruti was startled by the doorbell, since it broke the chain of her thoughts. They weren't expecting anyone at this time, so she curiously got up to see who was at the door. A stranger stared back at her. Being distracted by her own thoughts, she simply asked, “How can I help you?”, to which he replied that he had come to help her.
Now, this wasn’t the first time that a stranger had shown up at their door, but this was a first in terms of someone wanting to help instead of asking for it. While Kruti was still debating if it would be appropriate to ask him to come inside, he initiated again by saying, “It’s a matter of dire importance, and to some extent urgency, and so it would be great if I could just come inside to discuss the same in private”.
She exclaimed, “Oh!” and politely invited him inside. She showed him towards the Sofa and asked him to settle down comfortably, while she called for Atria. She asked him, “What would you like, tea or coffee?”, to which he replied, “Coffee would be good, thanks”.
This man, who seemed to be in his 40s, was rather lean and well-kept and seemed to be coming from some decorated office, considering the quality of his suit and the make of his shoes.
Slowly, he opened his briefcase and took out a folder, and with a pensive smile, held it towards Kruti. She looked perplexed and wondered if this too was part of the same unravelling that had begun just moments ago.
While Atria came in with the coffee and some biscuits, all clueless but unknowingly dispersing the tension in the air, Kruti opened the folder and sighed heavily. There it was! The very foundation of betrayal. And in a way, a testimony of her entire life.
Her hands were shaking, her eyes were all teared up, and her throat was almost choking to the point of no return.
The stranger had known this would be the most plausible response, and so was prepared to handle a situation like this. He instantly said, “I understand Mrs Bruce that this isn’t the slightest of moments to intervene, but I would still just like to let you know that I represent the best law firm in the town and this can be entirely contested and even won, if only you want to”.
She looked up at him, exasperated at how destiny had played its hand one more time. Feeling her own words choking her up, she reached out for water, while silent tears found their way out of her eyes.
After gathering herself, she looked at him and said: “There is nothing left to be contested here. We bury our dead, but yes, in such cases, without any honour”. While wiping her tears, she went on, “Please let him know that I right away signed the papers, and happily got rid of this miserable existence that he had endowed upon me years ago. Convey my thanks and best wishes to him”.
Kruti got up, thanked him and asked him to finish his coffee comfortably before leaving, and excused herself to her room.
Sometimes, destiny truly deals us a cruel hand. It wasn’t enough for the news to arrive in the morning, that even the conclusion had to arrive the same day. With the foster home upbringing and a rough childhood, Kruti had always felt displaced. She had spent a lifetime learning how to belong somewhere, and here she was again, belonging nowhere, and this time as a young divorcee.
Kruti stood at the edge of her balcony, a cigarette in her hand, and the resigned and distant thoughts of “What next?”
I’m really glad Kruti walked away and chose herself. That is a beautiful thing.
ReplyDeleteYou’ve always been someone who writes with the depth of the ocean and the height of the mountains. Your writing is never just words to me—it feels alive, making everything it touches feel real and worthy.
I see a brilliant storyteller inside you, and I’m honestly just waiting for the day your first book comes out. Keep writing Fatema, and please always be happy.
Hi, thank you so much for your kind and beautiful words. Means so much🫶✨
DeleteAnd yes, women walking away looks beautiful from the outside, but only they know the real cost of it. I wish that wasn't true though.
Once again, thank you so much🙏
You are right about the cost. But when a woman walks away, it’s not just beautiful—it’s pure strength and a determination to liberate her world. The aftermath might be painful, but the future is bright for those writing their own lives the way you write your stories.
DeleteTo me, walking away is an entirely different story. Most people just remain happy remembering the good memories of the people who walked away.
While so many remain silent, your stories will inspire them to take a stand.
Thank you so much once again for your kind words🫶✨
DeleteAnd remembering the good memories of the people who walked away makes good sense.
Wishing you the best for whatever next step you have in your journey.