Aradhana

"Good afternoon, Amma,” Aradhana greeted her mother in the late afternoon, still affected by a runny nose. Thankfully, it didn't escalate as her father had worried it might. Prema, who was alone in the kitchen, turned to Aradhana. The simple royal blue cotton saree she wore reminded Aradhana of her childhood. Although this saree may be the simplest one she owned, it held special memories. Dismissing those thoughts.

"How are you feeling?" She checked her temperature once more, relieved to find that there was no fever, unlike the one she had earlier that morning. Prema exhaled with a sense of relief.

“I’m good. Appa made kada for dinner last night and fed me idli this morning,” Aradhana replied, though a flicker of dread coursed through her. She felt apprehensive about rekindling her attachment to Prema. The thought of being drawn back into the comfort of familiarity and hope both excited and terrified her.

Prema quietly withdrew her hand, her heart heavy with a mix of embarrassment and reflection as she sensed the awkwardness that had settled between her and her daughter. It made her realize how rare and precious their moments together had become. When was the last time they had shared such a beautiful experience—just the two of them? It pained her to think that she couldn’t remember.

Her thoughts drifted back to that unforgettable night when her daughter had broken down after her twelfth-grade exam. It was a heart-wrenching moment. The girl who had always seemed so strong and independent had found herself overwhelmed with emotions, crying in the arms of a stranger outside the airport. That image still lingers in Prema’s mind, reminding her of the deep connection and vulnerability they both share. It was a moment that shook her to her core, making her realize just how important it is to be there for one another, especially in times of struggle. She longed for opportunities to support and comfort her daughter, to bridge the distance that had grown between them.

“Amma.” Aradhana paused, her gaze falling on Prema, who seemed so exposed in her vulnerability. It was a challenge to gather the courage she had been trying to muster since morning. Speaking to her father was one thing, but facing her mother felt like an insurmountable task. Still, this was the path she had chosen.

The warm, inviting aroma of hot sambar filled the air as Prema began to serve it over a steaming mound of rice, accompanied by crispy papad—Aradhana’s favourite meal. The familiar scent was both comforting and unsettling.

“Aradhana,” Prema started, her voice wavering with hesitation, “I want you to get married.”

"I'm departing for New York," Aradhana declared, her tone resolute, yet she deliberately refrained from giving her mother the answer she was hoping to hear. Deep down, her mother anticipated a denial—a simple response that would imply a temporary separation and the promise of her daughter’s return. She envisioned a short trip, perhaps just a few days, during which she could sidestep the discomfort of their current situation and revisit the delicate subject of marriage.

However, Aradhana's response—"Forever"—echoed with a sense of finality that hung in the air between them. This one word encapsulated her determination to break free from familial expectations and societal pressures. It was a declaration of independence, signalling that her life choices were no longer bound by her mother’s aspirations. At that moment, the distance between them widened, not just physically but emotionally, as Aradhana prepared to embark on a journey that marked a significant turning point in her life.

--

"Have you packed everything, Aradhana?" Her father stepped into the room, holding the stack of books she had eagerly ordered online. Despite the ache in his heart, he didn’t want to stand in her way. She had told him she was flying home—the home he had always longed to provide for her but never could. The weight of regret settled heavily in his chest, knowing she would always feel like an outsider in a house where the warmth and sense of belonging were absent.

"I'm just packing for my two-day business trip to Delhi. I'm off to New York later this week," Aradhana replied, her voice steady. "Don't worry! I’m making sure to include everything I need for the trip." Trying to make him a little at ease to come from pain for her father.

She was the embodiment of determination; anyone who crossed her path for even a brief moment would recognize her fierce spirit. Breaking her resolve felt almost impossible. She was a rare woman—self-sufficient and resilient. That’s what everyone believed—and perhaps what Aradhana had convinced herself of too.

Praveen continued to assist her with her files and laptop, each glance a bittersweet reminder of the moments they shared. He savoured these small acts of support, knowing he would miss her presence deeply once she was gone.

"Does New York truly feel like home for you?" he asked tentatively, his curiosity laced with hesitation.

"I hope it does," Aradhana replied, her lips curving into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Deep down, a flicker of doubt lingered. When her life felt too easy, it was then that her instincts screamed that trouble was lurking just around the corner. She found it hard to trust in the promise of something good, always bracing herself for the inevitable upheaval that seemed to follow her.

“I know you'll find a home in New York,” Praveen replied, his voice filled with determination. If his daughter needed a place to call her own, he was earnest in his prayers to the universe, hoping with all his heart that she would find it. That’s the essence of being a father.

“Hey.” Aadhya stepped into the room, her hesitation palpable in the air.

“Hi, Aadhya. You're home early from work today,” she greeted her, noticing the unease etched on her face. Adhaya's gaze drifted to the bags and the nearly empty cupboards, a poignant reminder that everything was changing. It felt as though Aradhana was methodically packing away not just their belongings but also the memories that had filled that space with warmth. Her eyes landed on the vacant spot on the wall where a framed picture of New York had once hung—a vibrant symbol of dreams and aspirations.

So, this is happening: Aradhana was leaving this house for good, fading away like a memory that had never truly existed. The sight of her three large trolley bags, bursting at the seams with her life’s possessions, felt like a cruel joke. Was Aayush and she the real reason for her departure? The realization struck her like a cold slap, leaving a bitter taste of loss mingled with regret

"I heard Mama say you're moving to New York," Aadhya said cautiously, her voice tinged with concern as she wrestled with her emotions.

"Yes, that’s right," Aradhana replied firmly, meeting Aadhya's gaze. She had no intention of justifying her decision; this was something she needed to do for herself, and she wasn’t about to waver.

"I think you should reconsider," Aadhya insisted, her concern evident.

"If Ayush and I staying here is an issue, we can figure out our situation. But I urge you to think carefully about staying." Praveen turned sharply to Aadhya, a sense of urgency in his expression. Losing another daughter was not something he was willing to accept. To him, Aadhya was just as dear as his Aradhana. Prema shared this sentiment; they couldn't bear the thought of letting go of any of their kids.

"My decision isn’t up for debate," Aradhana stated emphatically. "This choice isn’t about whether you stay or leave; it's about what I need. My parents care about you both immensely, and that's clear. But this is my promise to myself—I will move to New York, and that is final. I need you to respect that." She ended the discussion.

Seeing the finality, Aadhya is heartbroken with guilt and the pain of losing a great friend. She looked at Praveen apologetically, but he held her hand with assurance that she was not a reason for not staying with them. That calmed her a bit. As she left the room.

--

"Yes, David," Aradhana replied, her voice echoing softly in the stairwell as she answered the call. As she descended the stairs, she deftly tied her watch around her wrist. Her curly hair, wild and untamed like her spirit, bounced with each step. She carefully tucked a few loose strands behind her ears, a small ritual she performed daily. Though managing her curls often felt like battling an unending storm, she couldn’t help but appreciate their uniqueness; they were as much a part of her as her dreams and ambitions.

"The car is waiting for you in the parking lot, and I've already emailed you the details about the escalation," David informed her, his tone professional yet laced with a hint of concern. She moved gracefully through the hall, gathering her laptop bag, which felt heavy with the weight of deadlines, alongside her small duffle bag, a reminder of her constant transition.

"I'll be out in just a few minutes," she assured him before ending the call. As she turned to face her parents, their worried expressions registered like an unwelcome shadow on her heart. The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and she knew she needed to be clear about her imminent departure.

"I have an escalation with a client that requires my immediate attention," she stated firmly, her voice leaving little room for negotiation.

"Can you reconsider your trip to New York?" Prema asked, her voice trembling with urgency. The thought of her daughter moving to the other side of the world sent waves of fear crashing over her. While having Aradhana in Delhi was manageable—just a train or flight ride away—it felt unbearable to think of her embarking on such a distant journey. The expanse between their lives seemed daunting, and she doubted she would see her daughter again.

"No, Amma. I promised myself I would go to New York. Even if it's not this week, I will go someday. I want to stay there and build my life there. My future is waiting for me, and I have pushed this dream too far to turn back now. I need to go." Her voice rose with conviction, each word like a step toward her aspirations.

"What is even in New York?" Prema exclaimed, frustration boiling over as tears spilled down her cheeks, a torrent of anguish and disbelief. The idea of her daughter leaving forever felt like a fracturing of her very soul.

"My whole life," Aradhana replied, her honesty cutting through the room like a sharp knife.

"I can’t stay away anymore. Just let me go," she added, her resolve unwavering. Prema stood in stunned silence, unable to articulate her thoughts. The sight of her daughter's eyes filled with hope and trust was something she had not witnessed in a decade. It was a powerful moment that conveyed more than words could express.

"I’m not stopping you anymore then," Praveen said, gasping, his surprise palpable. He looked at Prema, who was still grappling with the reality of letting her daughter slip away. Could she truly stand by as Aradhana prepared to leave? Aradhana, too, was taken aback. She searched her father's face for assurance, hoping she hadn’t misinterpreted her mother’s unexpected acceptance. She never anticipated such an unguarded response from Prema. After years of strained connections, it felt surreal. Aradhana understood her mother’s struggles—how terrified Prema had been of letting her go.

"I have to leave now. I'll be back in two days. Bye," Aradhana stated tersely, feeling a strange mix of determination and sorrow. She didn’t want to delve into emotions or forge any connections that might tether her to this moment. Attachment would only make her departure harder.

"Why did you let her go?" Praveen asked quietly after pouring a glass of water for Prema, who remained lost in thought, her gaze fixated on the space where Aradhana had just stood. Despite feeling vulnerable, he understood that persuading his wife to agree to let their daughter go would be an incredibly difficult challenge. The thought weighed heavily on him as he mentally prepared to have the conversation. He imagined various scenarios, rehearsing his words in hopes of softening the blow. Yet, when the moment finally came, his wife's reaction caught him completely off guard, leaving him unprepared for the emotional turmoil that followed. The depth of her response revealed the complexity of their situation and the profound love she had for their daughter, making him reconsider how to approach the topic with her.

"I saw a spark of hope and trust in her eyes, Praveen. For the first time," Prema admitted, still mesmerized by the memory of her daughter's gaze.

"I don’t want to be selfish again. I refuse to hold her back if she isn’t happy. I’ve already failed in my role as a mother," she confessed, her voice wavering as she reflected on the moments of her past—times when she had sent Aradhana away to her paternal grandmother’s home, believing it was best for her, and then bringing her back when feeling distant and overwhelmed. Prema realized she couldn’t confine her daughter to a life where she felt trapped and unhappy. Letting go, though painful, seemed like the ultimate act of love.

--

Before getting into the car, Aradhana paused and glanced back at her parents' home, a cozy little place filled with love and laughter. It wasn’t that she lacked good memories; in fact, her heart brimmed with moments spent in the warm embrace of her family, especially with her playful younger siblings, Aadhya and Aayush. Yet, a heavy cloud of sadness enveloped her, draining the joy from those cherished times. She found herself pondering where she truly belonged in this world.

“Ma'am,” Deepak, her loyal secretary, said gently, interrupting her thoughts as he opened the car door. Aradhana nodded absently, the weight of her emotions lingering in her mind, before slipping into the car’s plush interior.

As the door closed behind her, she whispered, “I will miss this home.” The words felt bittersweet, echoing in the stillness as she prepared to leave behind the place that had shaped so many of her memories.