Chapter 51-Punishment
Vikram wiped his face.
"I'm fine."
Vinaya stared at him.
"Really?"
He looked away.
She sat beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Vinaya touched the stone elephant.
"She would have been five."
"Yes."
"Do you think she would have been difficult?"
Vikram gave a broken laugh.
"She was ours. Almost certainly."
Vinaya smiled.
Silence returned.
Then she asked, "What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"Vikram."
He closed his eyes.
She waited.
Finally:
"I think this is punishment."
Vinaya frowned.
"What is?"
He looked toward Ganga's name.
"No more children."
Her expression changed.
"Whose punishment?"
"Mine."
Vinaya stared at him.
"For what I did to her."
"Vikram—"
"I wished her dead."
"You were grieving and said something monstrous."
"I meant it when I said it."
His voice broke.
"For that moment, I meant it."
Vinaya went silent.
He had never excused those words.
Neither had she.
Vikram continued.
"Then I sent her away."
His eyes filled.
"She died."
"You did not cause her fever."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
He looked at her.
"But sometimes knowing something and believing it are different."
Vinaya understood that better than he knew.
He looked toward the garden.
"And now we cannot have another child."
Her face hardened.
"So the gods are punishing you?"
Vikram nodded.
"Perhaps."
"By refusing me a child too?"
He looked at her.
"What?"
"If this is your punishment, why must I suffer it?"
He stared.
Vinaya stood.
"You think the gods looked at what you did to Ganga and decided the proper punishment was to hurt me?"
"I didn't mean—"
"To make me wonder every month?"
"Vinaya—"
"To let me hope and then bleed?"
He stood.
"I know this hurts you."
"Then stop making my pain evidence against yourself!"
The words echoed through Ganga's garden.
Vikram froze.
Vinaya's eyes filled.
"You make everything another reason to punish yourself."
His face changed.
"Priya died, so you punished yourself."
He looked away.
"Your son died, so you punished yourself."
"Vinaya."
"You hurt me, so you punished yourself."
Her voice softened.
"Ganga died, and you have spent years punishing yourself."
Vikram said nothing.
"And now this."
She touched her abdomen.
"Something neither of us can control."
Her tears fell.
"And somehow you have made even this proof that you deserve suffering."
Vikram stared at her.
"Do you know what that does to me?"
His voice was barely audible.
"No."
"It makes me feel as though our life isn't enough for you."
His face crumpled.
"No."
"As though loving me isn't enough."
"No."
"As though Ganga's life exists only as your greatest sin."
"Never."
Vinaya stepped closer.
"Then stop turning our daughter into your punishment."
That silenced him.
Vikram looked toward the little elephant.
His daughter.
Not punishment.
Ganga.
A baby who had laughed.
Walked three steps.
Slept beside a blue elephant.
Looked toward the gates when horses came.
His child.
Vikram covered his face.
"I don't know how."
Vinaya's anger disappeared.
"How what?"
"How to stop."
His voice broke.
"I don't know how to forgive myself."
Vinaya stood before him.
For once, she did not rush to comfort him.
Perhaps he needed to say it completely.
Vikram lowered his hands.
"I think..."
He swallowed.
"I think I've spent half my life searching for reasons to hate myself."
And for the first time, he sounded tired of doing it.