76. HOLDING HANDS
The machines don't stop.
They keep making that same sound beep... beep... beep. Steady. Cold. Unfeeling. And yet, that sound is the only thing keeping me alive right now, because it means he is still here. It has been... I don't know how long.
Time has stopped making sense. They told me the operation was successful. They told me he is stable. But they also said, "He hasn't regained consciousness yet." And that one sentence has kept me here sitting, waiting, not moving, not leaving.
It's been twenty-four hours, and he still hasn't opened his eyes.
I sit beside him, my fingers wrapped around his hand.
His hand feels warm, but still, too still.
I tighten my grip slightly, as if reminding him that I'm here.
"You always said I sleep too much..." My voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper.
"And now look at you... you're the one not waking up.
.." A weak smile touches my lips, but it disappears just as quickly.
There's no response. Not even the slightest movement.
I swallow hard, my thumb brushing gently over his knuckles.
"I've been sitting here for hours... I didn't even move.
.. I didn't sleep... and you still didn't wake up. .."
My eyes burn, but I don't cry now. I don't want my tears to blur him. I want to see him clearly every second. "Veeransh..." I whisper his name like it's something fragile. "Open your eyes..." Silence answers me, broken only by that same sound, beep... beep... beep.
I lean a little closer. "You said you won't leave me... you said that, remember?" My fingers tighten around his hand. "So don't break your promise now..." Nothing. Not even a flicker.
I lower my gaze to our hands, his fingers slightly curled, mine wrapped around them, like I can hold him here, like I can stop him from slipping away.
"You haven't even seen them yet..." My free hand slowly moves to my stomach.
A habit now. A need. "They're waiting...
I'm waiting..." Silence answers again, and still, I don't let go.
Hours pass. People come and go. Maa cries quietly sometimes.
Suhana tries to stay strong. Doctors check.
Machines beep. Nothing changes. And then forty-eight hours.
The doctor stands in front of me again with the same serious face and careful tone.
"It's been 48 hours... he still hasn't regained consciousness. " I don't look at him.
I don't want to hear it. My grip on his hand tightens. "We will wait for another 24 hours..." A heavy pause follows. "And after that..." He doesn't complete the sentence. He doesn't need to. I understand. I feel it the unspoken fear.
I don't respond. I don't argue. I don't cry. I just sit there, looking at him, holding his hand as if that alone can keep him here. The doctor leaves, and the room becomes quiet again, too quiet. Night falls, and then it's 3 AM.
The world outside is asleep, but I'm not. I'm still sitting in the same place, the same position, the same grip. My eyes don't leave his face, not even for a second. My body aches, my head feels heavy, but I don't care. I won't move. Not until he does.
"You know..." My voice breaks the silence again, soft and tired.
"I never thought I'd be this scared... I used to think you're the one I should be scared of.
.." A weak, almost invisible smile forms. "You were so angry all the time.
.." My thumb brushes over his hand again.
"And now... I'm scared of losing you..."
Silence lingers, but I keep talking. Because maybe, somewhere, he can hear me.
"You remember the ice cream night...? You got angry because I wanted another one.
.. and still, you got it for me... you always did that.
.. act angry but still do everything..." A tear slips out quietly.
"And I never said thank you properly..." I close my eyes for a second, then open them immediately, afraid something might change if I don't look at him.
"You remember when you filled my sindoor in front of everyone?
I didn't say anything then but I felt it I felt like I belonged to you and I still ran away " My fingers tighten.
A tear falls onto our joined hands. "I'm sorry" The silence grows heavier.
"I won't run anymore... I'm here... I'm staying for you, for us, for them" My hand presses gently against my stomach. "They need you ,I need you..."
The words linger in the air. And then something happens.
So small, so slight, I almost think I imagined it.
My breath stops. My eyes drop instantly to his hand.
His finger moved. Just a little. Barely noticeable but it moved.
My heart starts pounding. Loud. Fast. "Veeransh.
..?" My voice shakes as I lean closer, watching, waiting.
And then again. A small movement. This time, I'm sure.
"Doctor!" My voice breaks into the silence, loud and desperate.
"Doctor!" I stand up suddenly, almost stumbling.
Footsteps rush in nurses, doctor, Maa, Suhana.
Everything happens too fast. The doctor moves to his side, checking him quickly.
"Veeransh... can you hear me?" My breath is uneven, my hands trembling, my eyes locked on his face. "Veeransh... open your eyes."
A long, unbearable pause follows. And then slowly, very slowly his eyelids move. Once. Twice. And then they open. My heart stops. For a second, everything stops. His eyes look straight at me. Not confused. Not lost. Just... at me. Tears instantly fill his eyes.
And that's it. That's all it takes. I break completely. "Veeransh" I rush forward, my hands cupping his face as I lean closer, almost collapsing over him. "You woke up... you... you woke up..." My voice trembles uncontrollably. Tears blur my vision. "I... I thought... I thought I lost you..."
His lips move slightly, weak and slow. "A... Aarohi..." My breath catches. "Veeransh... I'm here... I'm right here... you woke up... you actually woke up..." A tear slips from his eye. "I thought... I lost you..." he whispers faintly.
My head shakes immediately. "No... no, you didn't... I'm here.
.. I never left..." My voice grows firm through tears.
"I'm not going anywhere. Ever. I'll stay.
.. with you... forever..." A shaky breath leaves me.
"I'll irritate you... I'll fight with you.
.. I'll make you angry..." A small, broken smile appears.
"And our babies... they'll trouble you even more. .."
His lips curve slightly a weak smile, but real. Alive. And that... that is everything. The doctor steps forward, checking him again , vitals, machines, everything. Then he looks at us. "He is out of danger now."
The words echo loud, clear, real. Relief crashes into me all at once. My body almost gives in, but I don't move. I don't let go of him. "He will be under observation for the next 72 hours," the doctor continues, "but he is stable."
Stable. Safe. Here. I close my eyes for just a moment. And when I open them again, he's still there looking at me. Alive. My fingers tighten around his hand again, but this time not out of fear because he's finally holding back. Weak, but real.
And I don't let go.
Not now.
Not ever.