Change

I walked slowly, unwillingly, up the stairs. We had bought the first floor apartment, telling each other we would always walk up the stairs. We never did. For some reason, I wanted to take the stairs today. Because you want to delay entering the house. I froze, with my hand on the door knob. I looked around slowly. There was no one. My mind was playing tricks on me.

'Varsha and Adarsh' the door proclaimed. I cringed.

Adarsh was my high school sweetheart. We grew up together, and stayed devoted to each other, the object of derision and envy of our friends. When they started dating someone new, they would laugh at us, call us 'boring' and when they broke up, they would come crying to us, jealous that we always had each other right from the start, and wishing they could find 'true love' sooner. We reacted appropriately, ignoring them and forgiving them by turns, confident in our love.

Until now.

We married a few years after college, settled into our home, and waited to start a family. We waited five years. We tried every test, and it just wasn't meant to be. Adarsh, undaunted, started talking about adoption. Our families were aghast at first, but came around quickly to the idea. I didn't care one way or the other. I was tired of waiting, wishing. Adarsh decided I needed something to distract me.

"Yoga!" he had announced one day, convinced the positive energy would lift my spirits. I looked at his hopeful face, laughed and agreed to go to the classes. I reassured him that I could go alone, knowing he could never make it to the class with his work schedule.

Putting down my bag on the floor, I sat heavily on the sofa, and thought back to that first day.

It was the first time in ages that I was starting something without Adarsh. I was so used to being with him that I hadn't realize that we acted like we were joined at the hip, understanding now why our friends poked fun at us.

I had felt free. I hadn't expected to.

I entered the class, feeling a mix of trepidation and exhilaration. I had learnt yoga while at school, but barely remembered anything. I didn't know anyone. There were little kids, there were retirees. I smiled at everyone, feeling a little foolish. I stayed in the back, hoping I wouldn't be too clumsy and that no one will notice.

"Today, we will start with the Surya Namaskar, as usual" a frail man announced. The instructor was not surprisingly, fit and could twist his body in every imaginable way. The Surya Namaskar wasn't too bad.

"Hmmm does anyone want to try the Astavakrasana?" he posed the question to the class.

"Let me show you" and he quickly twisted both his legs to one side, lifting them off the ground, and balancing himself on his forearms, with only his palms touching the floor.

Someone gasped.

I found the whole scene hilarious, and wanted to burst out laughing. I looked around the room, searching, as always, to share the laugh. And then I remembered he wasn't with me. Before my laugh died in disappointment, I found him smiling at me, inviting me to laugh along with him. I stared, transfixed, forgetting my disappointment, forgetting everything.

"Ah, the one laughing in the back, why don't you come and show us the asana?" a voice broke into my consciousness. He winked at me, then looked at the instructor and said "Sure" and to everyone's surprise, he did.

After the class, he came over and introduced himself. His name was Vrishab. For some reason, I had failed to mention that I was married.

I just have a little crush, I will get over it. It has been a long time since I had a crush, I told myself.

I started going out for coffee or dinner right after the class, with him. Adarsh always worked late nights, and I never told him.

Three months later, I finally told Vrishab that I was married. "Married, beautiful, and she likes me. Any single man's dream" he said, sadly. I hadn't known what to say, except I couldn't let go of him.

Little things about Adarsh that I had found cute before, annoyed me now. I frowned if he plucked the morning paper out of my hand, as he always did.

"You are on a short leash these days" he had said..."Something bothering you?" he said with a concerned look.

"No, nothing. I have a headache" I said.

"You seem to be having a lot of headaches these days" he muttered under his breath. I pretended I didn't notice.

I was tired of pretending. I should decide soon. I wasn't being fair to either. I hadn't expected to fall in love again, and this was so different from the high school love Adarsh and I hadn't outgrown. I had never felt anything to be missing in our relationship before, now, I couldn't stop myself from finding holes.

The kitchen door opened. "I am making you dinner!" Adarsh poked his head out..and he looked so endearing, I pasted a smile on my face and walked to him.

"What are you making?"

"That, my dear, is a surprise" he said mysteriously and went back into the kitchen.

"Close your eyes" he ordered. "Open your mouth"

I did as he bid.

When he used his hand to put a morsel of the tempting food, I unthinkingly bit his finger.

"Hey" he shot back.

"What, don't you know I always bite your hand when you try to feed me?" I said, laughing, with a naughty inflection in my voice.

There was silence.

My eyes shot open. I found Adarsh staring at me. I knew I was wearing an expression of horror, and fear. His eyes were filled with sadness, comprehension dawning on him, of an intimate moment, not shared with him. I had never loved him more than at this moment, seeing him blamelessly looking at me, trying to understand what went wrong.. But it wouldn't be enough.

Everything would have to change. My friends, my life, everything.

"Vrishab" I said into the phone two days later, "I am free".

Hope

Her eyes blinked open. Resolutely, she shut them closed. Intuitively, even before her mind began thinking, she knew that she did not want to wake up. And then her brain caught up with her body's reflexes and she opened her eyes in horror. The stark reality of her sister's illness weighed on her, tying her to her bed. She had to make a super human effort to throw away the shroud of darkness and lift herself from bed. The want in her, to go back to bed, avoid reality, was so tempting. If only she could.

She went into Shloka's room. Her sister was sleeping on the bed, peacefully. Or so it seemed. The cancerous cells in her bones were furiously at work, chipping away. Arthi leaned against the door frame, and thought back to three days ago, when Shloka had called her at work.

"Will you go to the doctor's with me?" she had asked.

"Of course I will. Is it the dietitian again? How is your new diet working out for you?"

"I have lost a lot of weight akka" she said, in a quivering voice.

Arthi was surprised. Shloka hadn't called her 'akka' in years. Something was wrong, she was sure of that.

"What is it, Shloka? What aren't you telling me?" she said, her voice rising in fear. She saw Tina, her colleague making a shushing motion and lowered her voice. "What is wrong?" she whispered.

"Please come to Manipal Hospital at 1. Dr Rao's office" Shloka answered and hung up.

Arthi felt bewildered as she cradled the receiver back in its place. I should have visited her more often, she silently berated herself. Ever since she had gotten married, her life became a whirlwind of activity, revolving around Akash. She thought back to her single life, the way she cursed her friends for not being in touch after they had gotten married. And then she ended up doing the same thing!

Of course, she tried to meet Shloka at least once a week. But it was not the same as living in the same house with her little sister. She smiled at the thought of the monkeying around that Shloka was always upto, her raucous laughter, and the constant joy she was to be with. She could light up a room the instant she waltzed in. And now this, Arthi thought back to the visit to the doctor.

"We had a biopsy done on Shloka's thigh bone" Dr Rao had tried to bring her up to speed after she got over the shock of seeing Shloka. She, who always had had difficulty controlling her chubbiness, was looking so skinny she could have walked the ramp wearing a Parisian dress.

"When?" Arthi managed to blurt out. How long had it been since she last saw her sister, her mind counted back, furiously. It had been a month. How could so much have changed since then?

"Last week" Dr Rao replied. He was an oncologist, and a family friend. He had met Shloka at a party three weeks back and saw the tell tale signs and asked her to come in to his office. She had taken a week to muster up the courage while she saw her body fail her. And she had told no one.

Arthi was hurt by that. They were always so close, and could complete each other's sentences. And she hadn't told her!

She waited for Dr Rao to continue, waited for the walls to fall in on her, knowing she couldn't possibly do anything to change things.

"I am sorry princesses" he said, going back to their childhood nicknames. "Its malignant. We should start treatment right away...Do you want me to tell your parents?" he asked, beseechingly, asking them without saying so, to understand that this pained him too, and he was only the messenger.

"Thanks Uncle, please, will you tell them?" Arthi said, taking charge of the situation. She always did. Their parents were away, in Europe, visiting friends. She thought back to her parents, and how long it had been since they had taken time off, what was waiting for them when they returned, and changed her mind.

"No uncle, lets not tell them now. We will wait until they return. They are coming back next week, anyway."

She turned to look at Shloka. She looked so detached, and so alone, the disease already bringing up walls between her and the world, and she fought back a sob. She crushed her in a hug, letting her know that she was there. Shloka started crying "Why me?"

Why, indeed. You always think that bad things happen to other people. You read about them in newspapers, with mild disinterest, confident that it would never happen to you. Until lightning struck you instead.

Slowly, in just a few days, the hospital became the center of their life. Akash and Arthi took Shloka into their home. When she went out of her house, Arthi stared at everyone, envious of their normal lives, and their little worries. How could life go on? she wondered, as she grappled with the monumental axe dangling over their happiness, threatening to fall down any minute.

And they hoped, constantly, that Shloka would get better. Hoped everything would go back to being normal, Arthi thought, as she looked at her little sister.

"Are you hoping if you stare at me long enough, the cancer will go away?" Shloka muttered, from the bed.

Arthi laughed. And felt guilty for doing so. Every laugh, every smile was cut short by remembrance of the situation.

And they resumed their constant stance, of hoping.