34. Sona
SONA
S anjay turned the car around to take me home, but dropping Mihir off at the hotel after the devastating day he’d had didn’t sit right with me. My anger had cooled, and all I could see was the desolate look in Mihir’s gaze. I instructed Sanjay to drive me back.
When the car stopped under the porte-cochère of the stately building, I caught Mihir smoking a few yards away from the hotel entrance. As I watched him, a sudden thought hit me. The last thing Mihir told me was that his parents had been keeping secrets. Tara had said they were estranged. And now he was here to find his mother …was it possible that Mihir was adopted and he hadn’t known?
My heart raced as I tried to come to terms with my own wild theory. My stomach clenched. If it was true, what would that do to a person? To discover you weren’t who you thought you were?
“Can I get one?” I said when I sidled next to him, and he practically jumped out of his skin.
“What are you doing here?” A guilty frown accompanied that remark.
Pulling the cigarette from his fingers, I dragged a deep puff, let out a cloud of smoke, then handed it back to him. He did the same. When we’d sucked the filter into a sad, thin shriveled end, too weak to hold its shape and its dignity, he squashed it in the sand on the bin near him.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” he said.
“I don’t. I didn’t know you smoked either.”
“I used to. I quit.”
“That didn’t look like you quit.”
“That didn’t look like you don’t smoke.”
“I can smoke. I choose not to.”
He smiled—not smirked, smiled . “Come up,” he said.
Instead of going to his room, though, he led me to the café inside the hotel. “You missed breakfast on my account,” he said as we occupied a table near the window.
“Not on your account. I woke up late,” I replied, perusing the menu. I ordered a vegetable sandwich and a latte while he got his usual double espresso.
“You’re so predictable,” I said when my food and our coffee arrived.
“Hmm, I always thought that was a good thing, like being reliable.”
He smiled, and I braved a direct gaze into his eyes. “Are you alright?”
His cup stopped halfway to his lips. After a slow drag on it, he placed it down with grace. Pulling in a deep breath, he asked, “Why did you come back?”
“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Sitting across from him had always been a transcendental experience for me, as if there was a tangible connection between his soul and mine. Dallas, Montréal, or Mumbai. There was no difference. It felt like home wherever he was. I sighed and bit into my generous sandwich.
When we went up to his room, I settled on a couch near the window, gazing at the gray Arabian sea outside. While Mihir ordered water and coffee to the room, I called Sanjay and asked him to get his lunch because I didn’t know how long I’d be there.
Then he stepped over and slipped in beside me. I cupped his face. “Tell me, Mihir,” I whispered. “I’m here.”
He took my hand and jerked me into his arms, burying his face in my neck. I felt his tears on my skin as my hand cradled his head. His hair was as soft as it looked. I pulled him closer as he continued shedding silent tears. I could feel his pain as if it were my own. The weight of his sorrow was palpable, a desperate cry for comfort hidden behind his brave fa?ade. My heart ached to see him like this.
He lifted his head, and I swiped his tears away with my fingers.
“Fuck, I feel so foolish,” he said, wiping his eyes with his palms.
I took his hands in mine. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know where to begin.”
Speechless and motionless, I tried to grasp everything that had transpired over the last three months. There were too many things I felt at the moment. I was sad for his parents, I felt his pain, I felt confounded by his decision to break up, and I knew I couldn’t appropriately react to any of these, so I just held him.
“I had thought finding Kamte would lead me to my birth mother.”
“We’ll find her, Mihir,” I said with misplaced confidence.
“How?” He gazed into my face.
“I’m not sure right now, but don’t leave just yet. Give me a few days. I have several connections in the city. It could be a shot in the dark but still worth a try.”
“Mom said I shouldn’t have let you go,” he said, his arms tight around me. “And she was right.”
“But you did,” I whispered and withdrew from his embrace to stand. “And rather cruelly.”
“I want you back,” he declared in his usual determined manner and stood to face me.
I shook my head. “You could’ve talked to me. Instead, you chose to push me away in the most merciless way. It’s taken me all these months to come to terms with it. When a thing like that happens to you twice, it doesn’t take long to go into a spiral and think that it was somehow your fault. I must have something lacking in me for it to happen twice. If I didn’t have supportive friends, I wouldn’t have survived this, Mihir. And you were nowhere to be found. You can’t thrust yourself back in my life again because now you decided it’s the right thing for you.”
“I was in a terrible place, Sona. Why does no one understand that? My parents won’t talk to me. You’re pushing me away. Why can’t you all accept that I needed space? I needed time to heal, to come to terms with it. Why can’t you all cut me some slack? I felt shunned and ashamed. I felt as if everyone in my life was ashamed of me. My entire world changed, and everyone behaves as if I’m the one in the wrong.”
“Because you didn’t trust us, you didn’t make us a part of your changing life. You pushed us away. I was worried about you, I tried reaching out, and you blocked my number. Don’t I get to be angry and hurt about that?”
He pulled in a resigned breath. “You do. You have every right to be angry, Sona. But I was so ashamed, I wasn’t in a place where I could explain what I was going through. I didn’t speak to anyone about it until two weeks ago. I…just couldn’t.”
My brows creased as a strange thought hit me. “Mihir, you keep talking about shame. Are you ashamed of the circumstance of your birth…or of your mother?”
Smart as he was, he knew what I was asking. He also knew he couldn’t lie to me. “Both.”
I gasped with disbelief. “Mihir!”
“I know, I shouldn’t be thinking so, but how can I not? I’m the son of a prostitute.”
“A sex worker ,” I corrected with a stern edge in my voice. “Someone who had little choice about how she ended there, I would guess.”
“And a pedophile who impregnated her.”
“Oh, Mihir!” I stepped over and hugged him. He cradled his head in my neck, the warmth of his breath sweeping over my skin.
“Where does that leave your parents, then? What about Sneha aunty and Arvind uncle? What’s their contribution to your life?”
He lifted his head and looked me in the eye. “They betrayed my trust.”
“After they gifted you this life,” I offered softly.
“So who am I, then?”
“You’re Mihir Seth, the determined man who always knew what he wanted and how to get it.”
His eyes sunk to the floor. “My name wouldn’t be Mihir.”
“If your birth mother gave them the right to name you, that’s what your name would be. You are Mihir. You brought light and joy into their lives.”
Mihir, the Sun God, the deity of power, strength, and vitality—without whose fire there could be no life.
“I’m proud of you, Mihir, and I bet your parents are too. I can’t imagine what you must have been through these past few months. But I want you to know that there are people in your life who love you unconditionally and want to celebrate you every day.”
He looked at me with eyes that were red with hurt and guilt. “Does that include you?”
I didn’t hesitate to confess the truth. “Yes.” I nodded. “You are loved. So loved!”
His eyes turned softer, his features calmer.
“What happened to your birth mother is a tragedy, but she has nothing to be ashamed about, and neither do you. None of what happened is her fault.”
His eyes glazed in distant thought. “I know I shouldn’t be ashamed of her,” he said in a feeble voice. “I can’t imagine the hardships she must have been through. But I can’t help wondering if I’m a source of shame for her . Will finding her be a reminder of a horrible time? Am I a source of pain to her?”
There was no way I could answer that in any honesty. “We won’t know until we find her,” I said softly. “But isolating yourself can’t be the solution.”
He glanced away. “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up and find out that everything you thought you knew is a lie. That you were unwanted.”
“But you weren’t unwanted. Your biological mom chose to give you away so you could have a better life. You were given and accepted with love. You were wanted.”
“That’s what Mom says.”
“Well, you should heed her words. She’s a wise woman.”
I lowered myself to the edge of his bed.
“We would’ve loved to help you, but you drove us away. When your friends were in pain, when I was in pain, you were there for us. Let us be there for you. Open your eyes, my love, and you’ll see the truth. The real truth, not some phantom you’re chasing.”
He paused to study me.
Yes, I did realize I’d just called him my love , but I chose to underplay it. He ignored it too.
“You’re good with words, Sona,” he said, but there was no bitterness in his tone.
I smiled. “Yes, I am. Are you going to listen to me or huff away again?
“Depends. Are you going to tattle on me to my mom?”
“Most definitely.”
He smiled. “Can you stay a bit longer?”
I blinked and nodded. “I’ll call Aai and let her know.”
While Mihir disappeared into the bathroom, I called my mother.
“I’ll take a taxi back,” I told Aai before I sent Sanjay home in case Aai needed to step out.
I had just ended that call when an unfamiliar number lit up my screen.
“Hello,” I said, half expecting it to be spam. My parents had warned me about the barrage of spam I’d receive, but I always answered in case it was someone I knew. Old habits.
“Sona?” a vaguely familiar voice said. “This is Malati. Sonavane.”
“Yes!” I said and looked around for Mihir. He was still in the bathroom.
“Look, I didn’t want to get your hopes up, especially that Mihir person’s, but when you mentioned notes, I couldn’t help myself. I pulled out the old trunk where we put my father’s things after he passed and found his notebooks. He used to be very protective of them when I was younger.”
“Yes?”
“It’s a list of sorts. Can you come over tomorrow around the same time? You can see if it’s useful to you.”
“I’ll be there. Thank you so much! Thank you,” I said. “You’ve really given him hope.”
I debated if I should go to Malati’s alone. If the lead was a dead-end, I could spare Mihir the angst and heartache. If it amounted to something, I could share the information with him.
“What are you thinking?” Mihir emerged dressed in a comfortable T-shirt and sweatpants.
“Nothing. How did you know I was thinking?”
“You have a slight frown on your forehead, and you nibble at your bottom lip when you think.” He lay down on the bed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
He nodded. “You can lie down if you like. It’s a big bed.”
I removed my shoes and climbed in with him. “You had no reason to push me away, Mihir. We could’ve figured it out together.”
“Yes, unfortunately, hindsight is a crisp twenty-twenty.” He held my hand as we lay on our backs, gazing at the ceiling. “Thank you for holding up the mirror to me, Sona. I was right—it is difficult to come to terms with the reality of one’s dire situation.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through this.” I sighed. “I really hope you find her, Mihir and I hope you go in with gratitude, not shame. Don’t give the moralistic world the power to define who you are.”
He rolled on his side to face me and put his hand in mine again. “You have no idea what these couple of days have meant to me. I have you to thank for it all.”
“You don’t need to thank me. You once restored my faith in love, and I’m reinstating yours in life. Cast away all doubt. Life is beautiful.”
“It was beautiful with you in it.”
I retracted my hand. He grabbed it again.
“I’m glad you’re here Mihir. I’m glad you finally let me in.”
With a sigh, he rolled to his back and gazed at the ceiling. “I’m glad I did. I would’ve never found the building, let alone Kamte or his daughter.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “So what now?” he asked.
“Now, we pause and rest.”
“I want to call my parents, but I fear I’ll hurt them again.”
I squeezed his hand. “Do they know you’re here?”
“Yes, but I haven’t spoken to them since I arrived.”
“You should.”
The hot sun had turned a mellow orange when I woke up against his chest. My leg was flung over his hip, his palm cupping my bottom. He appeared to be in a deep sleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. I took the opportunity to take in his scent. I drew into him, feeling his warmth through his T-shirt. I wanted to kiss his chest I had missed so much, but instead, I looked up and stared into his face. The gorgeous face that was no longer mine to stare into.
“What are you looking at?” he said and startled me.
I smiled. “I’m wondering what your hand is doing on my butt.”
“Hmmm, I’ve no idea how it got there,” he said with his eyes still closed, his hand steady where it was.
I withdrew myself from his warmth and went to the bathroom.
“I should leave now,” I said after I had freshened up. “My parents must wonder where I am, and just what it is that I’m doing with you.”
He smiled with closed eyes.
“Come home for dinner,” I offered.
“No, I don’t feel like socializing tonight.”
For once, I didn’t press him. He looked at peace for the first time since he’d shown up at my parents’ house. When he called the front desk and arranged for a car to take me home, I didn’t protest either.
I knew it wasn’t prudent to put all hope into my meeting with Malati the next day, but that was the only twig I had to hold on to in the midst of this deluge that was determined to drown us both.