„What about these scars doctor? “she asked holding the
mirror looking at her face.
“That’s alright; some scars take a
lifetime to heal.” said Dr. Sunil in a pacifying tone. 
“When can I leave, doctor?” She stared at the open window
seeing the children play in the garden as the morning rays of sun fell on the
freshly mowed garden.
“In a day or two Ananya.” exclaimed Dr. Sunil looking at the
reports. 
“Does she have the address?” he asked Bela privately. Bela nodded.
She gave one look at the hospital where she spent almost 18
months and picked up the bag filled with toys, a gift pack and a pair of her
clothes that Bela had gifted her on Diwali. 
“If you expect
nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.”
“With closed
ones too?”
“You don’t
expect from strangers do you?”
She would have pulled the stuffed kangaroo and felt it and
put it in her bag several times in the 5 hour train journey. She inquisitively
looked outside the window thinking of how things get to normalcy, just didn’t
seem that the state had the worst terrorist attack just 18 months back. 
She was excited and nervous at the same time. 
“We gain
strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really
stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot.”
“But that’s my
family; they will support me and make me confident.”
“Hopefully,
Amen.”
She reached the front courtyard, ‘Nayaks’ the name plate
made by her still hung there. She felt it with her fingers before opening the
gate to the front courtyard. She had replayed the scene of her daughter running
to her, her husband so happy and pleasant hugging her so many times that she
actually knew her words and had rehearsed them several times. 
The door was open; as she entered she could see the toys
lying in the living room giving her the assurance of her daughter will be in
her arms in no time now. Her aunt came down the stairs and was frozen after
seeing her. She took several minutes to react, followed by a forced hug. 
“Aunty, aren’t you happy, surprised to see me?” Said Ananya
looking at her aunt’s expressionless face.
After a long pause, “yes, Ananya, I am, in fact we did get a
letter from the hospital just a day back of your return. Come sit in the living
room.” 
That wasn’t her aunt’s natural self. Why I am treated like
an outsider, thought Ananya. She entered the living room; one look around felt
as if the house was being taken care of. She each day would think how would
they manage without her. In one corner she saw a small picture of her placed on
the side table. She remembered the words of being confident and positive and
after all it was natural for them to think she lost her life in the blast that
took place when she had been to the market. 
She sat on the edge of her sofa quietly rubbing her one feet
on another, nervously clinging to her bag wanting nothing but to see her
husband and daughter, she must have been 4 years by now. 
After a while her daughter, Ira rushed in the living room,
Ananya could no longer contain herself and broke down in tears as she grabbed
her and hugged her hard. She swiftly removed all the toys she had got for her
and placed her on her lap. 
“Ira, did you miss mumma, my princess?”
Ira immediately rushed to her father and wrapped to his leg
dropping the stuffed kangaroo on the way. 
“Ananya.” called out Rohan. 
She rose. 
“How have you been?” 
She was jolted by the formality that wrapped the question.
It was nothing like what she had thought it to be. 
“One ought to
hold on to one's heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the
head too.”
“Why would I
want to think with my head, my family needs my heart?”
“Depends on
the situation and the circumstance, now you will always need both.”
She brought herself to reality and handed the gift she had
got in his hands. 
“Rohan, honey, are you home?” she said as she entered the
house.
The voice sounded familiar as she walked straight to the
living room and stood next to Rohan. 
“Oh…” giving a startled look, “Ananya….it’s you.” She looked
at Ananya and immediately glanced at Rohan. 
That was Ruchi, her first cousin, but what was she doing in
my house? Her addressing Rohan as honey, Ananya was trying to put the puzzle
pieces in place when her aunt broke the ice, “I think you must be tired Ananya,
why don’t you rest?”
“The first
step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.”
“What if I
don’t like the change?”
“Then think
what if you do not have a choice of changing the change?”
She picked her bag still blank at what was happening looking
at the faces around knowing she was the unwanted one. She knew that Ruchi would
have come to support her child as she was too young, but she had to know more.
Ananya being an orphan was raised by her aunt and was not among those  jump at things and seek explanations.
“We tried really hard to find you for several months.
Hospitals, police, posters all, but no trace. We finally placed your picture on
the market square and even joined the candle march to force government to act.”
Rohan said trying hard to sound convincing at the dinner table.
“It was generous of Ruchi, to then come here and take up the
family responsibility for Ira….”added her aunt.
“And Rohan…” Ruchi completed pressing Rohan’s hand sitting
next to him at the dinning. 
“Hope in
reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.”
“Can reality
hurt?”
“Depends if what
you want out of reality is not a dream.”
She had not uttered a word but been a silent listener. The
pain she had lived in the past few hours was more than what she went through in
her treatment of 18 months. She passed by to keep her plate when she overheard…
“How long has she come for?” Ruchi said in a hushed tone.
“I don’t know, I don’t think you need to overreact.” Rohan
replied.
“And did you see her face, it’s full of scars, Ira will have
nightmares every night. I can’t let her be here in my house. Get that
straight.” She came out slamming the door behind her. 
Ananya washed her plate and tip toed to the room. She sat on
the bed and picked up the book with the grey writings of her conversations with
Bela over the 18 months which Bela had penned and handed over before her leaving.
The last page was an address and two notes of INR 1000 each.
“If you ever
reach this page and feel the need, the doors are open and you have the
address.”
Next day there was no trace of Ananya in the Nayak’s house. 
She left a note, “I wasn’t a
pile on Rohan and will never be; now my life awaits me.”
She came back to the hospital and Dr. Sunil employed her as
an intern at his hospital. Her life had just begun. 

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