chapter 7: All about silence

Prem:

I opened my eyes and realized Nani was hugging me, fast asleep. I watched his peaceful face for a moment, but the sudden vibration of my phone broke the silence. I gently took the phone from the bedside table and saw that it was Zara calling.

Stepping outside to answer, I greeted her, only for her to tease, "So, the mighty sir is too busy since I left the island? Not even a text or a call. Or is Nani keeping you occupied?"

I felt a wave of surprise. "What…?"

"Don't lie," she continued, her voice playful but sharp. "I saw your face when Nani was drowning in the sea. You were freaked out. It's hard for us to handle emotions like that, isn't it?"

I tried to compose myself. "How are things going there?"

"Everything is fine," she replied. "The wedding is getting closer..." Her voice trailed off as another call came through. "Wait, I need to take this."

"See," I laughed lightly. "I told you, you're busy with your groom. Just be happy, Zara. You deserve it."

"Okay, Prem, I'll call you another time. I have to go."

"Alright. Bye."

I turned around and saw Nani standing behind me, his eyes narrowing as if he'd caught me doing something wrong. His gaze felt like it cut through the air, filled with a quiet, burning irritation.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" I tried to sound indifferent, but there was a sharpness in my voice I couldn't control. I started to move away from him, creating space between us, hoping that distance could stop the storm inside me.

I barely made it a few steps before I heard him imitate me, his tone mocking. "Oh, see, I said you will be busy with your groom, whatever, just be happy because you deserve it," he echoed, the bitterness evident in every word.

I whipped around, the annoyance swelling into anger. "Are you seriously messing with me this early in the morning?" I snapped, raising my voice.

Nani folded his arms and met my glare with one of his own. "I see right through you, Prem. You care about her. You miss her. You want to protect her. And if that's not love, then what is it? Tell me. Because when you love someone, you go to them. It's that simple." His words hit like a hammer, shattering the wall I'd built around my feelings.

I clenched my fists, unwilling to let his words sink in. "You know nothing about me!" I yelled, my voice breaking. "Love doesn't exist! Look around—who do you see that's actually in love? Show me one person, just one, who proves me wrong. You can't. Not even our parents."

The silence that followed was suffocating. I saw Nani's face fall as tears welled in his eyes. My chest tightened, and the weight of his sadness settled in my head like a dull ache. I wanted to say something, anything, to take it back—but I couldn't. Instead, I did the only thing I could. I turned and punched the wall hard enough to feel the sting in my knuckles. The pain felt better than the guilt that gnawed at me.

I walked away, forcing myself to leave. If I stayed, I knew I would only hurt him more.

Nani:

I heard the faint vibration of Prem's phone, pulling me out of sleep. I opened my eyes just in time to see him grabbing his mobile and stepping onto the balcony. His voice was low, talking to Zara, and I couldn't help myself—I quietly followed him, standing just out of sight. As I listened to their conversation, I could hear the care and warmth in his tone. He was protective, kind, everything Zara seemed to need, and a pang of something twisted inside me. Maybe it was envy, or maybe it was just the strange realization that I wanted to help him get the love he was too afraid to acknowledge.

When he finished speaking, I found myself saying, almost impulsively, "Think about her before she marries someone else." My words hung in the air, heavy and awkward, but it felt right to say them.

Prem turned to me, his face darkened, his reply sharp and harsh. "Love doesn't exist, Nani. Not for me. Not for anyone I know." He paused, and his words cut deeper as he added, "Not even you. Not even our parents."

His honesty was painful, like swallowing something too bitter to digest. His words echoed in my mind, stirring memories I'd long buried. He was right, I'd never really been in love, not truly. I'd had crushes, fleeting feelings, but love? The kind that consumes your soul? No. It was as foreign to me as it was to him.

Then he mentioned our parents, and suddenly, fragments of my childhood flashed before my eyes. The laughter, the warmth of home, the moments of safety—and then, the loss. It was like a veil being lifted, and I could see it all again. The weight of it became too much, and before I could stop myself, a tear slipped down my cheek.

I bowed my head, trying to hold it all in, but it was useless. The flood had already started. I barely had time to wipe my eyes when I heard a sharp thud. I looked up, startled, to see Prem, his fist buried into the wall, blood slowly staining the white plaster.

I went back inside, following him. He was sitting in a chair, his leg bouncing with nervous energy, his head in his hands. The tension radiated off him in waves. I didn't say a word, just walked to the drawer and pulled out the first aid kit. Kneeling before him, I cleaned his wound in silence, wrapping the bandage around his knuckles with care. He didn't protest, but he didn't speak either. There was nothing left to say. We were both lost in our own worlds of hurt.

When I finished, I quietly left the room, feeling an overwhelming need for comfort. My feet took me to the kitchen, where Leela was busy preparing food for the customers. The smell of spices filled the air, and the soft clatter of pots and pans was oddly soothing. I watched her for a moment, her smile bright and carefree as she moved with practiced ease, and it hit me—she reminded me of my mother.

I was eight again, watching her in the kitchen, her laughter filling the house, her hands always busy but her heart always full. It was as if nothing in the world could ever hurt her. That image was enough to break me. I walked over to Leela, and without saying anything, I wrapped my arms around her. The tears I had tried so hard to hold in came rushing out, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself cry.

Leela didn't ask questions. She just held me, letting me release the weight of everything I had been carrying for so long.

Leela:

Leela:

I was busy in the kitchen, stirring the pot when, all of a sudden, Nani came up behind me. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around me and began crying, just like Chotu does when he's scared or missing me. I stopped what I was doing and called one of the workers to tend to the dish.

I led him outside, to the back of the restaurant, where the sea breeze felt soothing against the warm air. I wiped his tears gently, waiting for him to speak.

"Do you miss your mom?" I asked quietly. He nodded, his face still wet with tears. I saw the pain in his eyes—more than just homesickness, it was something deeper. "Do you want to talk to her?"

He stayed silent, avoiding my gaze. I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Did you run away from home?"

His head snapped up at that question, and he wiped his own tears, shaking his head. "No, I didn't run away. I just... I need to see her."

I pressed gently, "Then why don't you go back?"

He bit his lip, glancing away. "I can't. Not until I find the answers I'm searching for. I can't face her until then."

I sighed softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "As you wish, Nani. But don't hurt yourself in the process. That's not what she'd want."

Before I could ask more, Nani straightened up and quickly changed the subject, his tone lighter. "Sis, the customers are waiting for their food. We should get back inside."

I followed him into the kitchen, casting a quick glance at Prem. He was busy taking orders and placing dishes on the tables, his usual loud, commanding presence noticeably muted today. Nani offered to help me in the kitchen, and I agreed, sensing he needed the distraction. We worked in silence for the next two hours until the lunch rush died down, the restaurant finally quiet.

Nani approached me, his voice soft. "Sis, do you need anything else? Can I help more?"

I shook my head with a smile. "No, everything's done now. The workers will handle the rest. Why don't you go take a bath and relax? We'll all eat together soon."

He nodded, retreating upstairs. I looked over at Prem, who was sitting quietly in the corner, scrolling through his phone. It was unlike him to be so silent, especially after a busy day at the restaurant. Normally, he would be barking orders or complaining about something, but today, he seemed lost in his thoughts.

"Prem," I called softly as I approached him. "Is something bothering you?"

He didn't look up from his phone, just shook his head. "No, nothing."

I didn't push him. I knew better than to force answers when they weren't ready. "I just want the people around me to be happy," I said gently. "If you ever need to talk, I'm always here."

Without waiting for a response, I left him alone, sensing that today, silence was his answer.

Nani:

I came downstairs after my bath, feeling a bit lighter. Prem was sitting in a chair, his face distant and unreadable. Outside, I saw Leela and Chotu by the shoreline, the waves gently lapping at their feet. I ran toward them, eager to join in their play. Chotu had been begging me for days to help him build a sandcastle, so we set to work, shaping towers and moats with our hands.

Time passed quickly, and after two hours, I noticed Leela gathering up the plates and taking them inside. I picked up Chotu, carrying him inside as well.

"Nani," Leela called from the kitchen, "go and fetch Prem for dinner."

I nodded, placing Chotu down before heading back outside to find Prem.

I stood outside the room, feeling the weight of my own guilt. I hated this—the way people hurt themselves because of me, and how helpless it made me feel. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but I knew I had to face Prem. I couldn't just let this coldness between us continue.

Slowly, I walked into the room. Prem was lying on the bed, his back turned towards me. I called his name softly, hoping he'd respond. But there was no reply, just the quiet sound of his breathing. I sighed, thinking maybe I should just leave him be. As I turned to leave, feeling the ache in my chest grow heavier, something unexpected happened.

Prem suddenly moved behind me, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I froze for a moment, caught off guard, before hearing his voice, soft and filled with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath warm against my neck. "I didn't mean to be rude. I just…"

I turned around to face him, holding his hands in mine. "No, Prem. I'm the one who should apologize," I said gently, looking into his eyes. "I shouldn't have tried to force anything on you—love, marriage, none of it. I know now that you need to follow your own path. From now on, let's stop being cold with each other. We don't need that between us."

His face shifted from confusion to relief, and I could see a small smile beginning to form. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Without saying a word, I held his hand firmly and led him out of the room, toward the table where the food awaited us.