Secrets Hidden In Time (Time #1)

42 | Maple Leaves

"It was never love at first sight. In fact, in my belief, love can never be at first sight. Rather, I would say it was curiosity at first sight. The urge to know more, to learn everything about her, and to never look away." He slowly trailed, a hint of vulnerability lingering in his voice. "You know why?"

"Why?" Darshana whispered, quietly following the direction of his gaze to peer at the Gulmohar tree.

The atmosphere was alive with a mild breeze, causing the leaves above to tremble and rustle softly, as if sharing secrets with the wind.

"Because we share a common ground of contrasts and commonalities." The tone of voice turned a few shades gentler as he smiled softly. "I don't know if you do, but I do feel the hollowness within me. The lack of freedom, have you ever felt it?" He looked at her.

She turned her eyes away, avoiding his penetrating look.

He continued to smile. "I do. Like needles continuously pricking my skin, I do feel the lack of freedom we have. The manor may be worth all the gold and jewels in the world, but then again, at times, it feels like a cage of gold. The inability to go and roam around wherever I want, the continuous tailing around of the security professionals, the expectation of acting in a certain way in front of the high society, to dress in a certain way, to follow proper eating and drinking etiquette, to follow the security protocol even while going to school or while meeting Tapan and the others-I wonder if I am the only one who feels this suffocation or is there someone else as well. You won't believe me, didaa, but the only time I break the protocols is when I sneak to that park with Karim's help, just to catch a glimpse of her." His gaze remained fixed on the Gulmohar tree, unblinking and lost in thought.

Darshana lifted her hand to caress her nephew's cheek.

No one could understand the underlying sadness in his words better than her. She was a victim herself after all. In fact, every other inhabitant of the Dogra manor was, up to varying degrees.

Mahadevan sighed softly and carried on. "And in the heart of all this turmoil, there exists her. The girl with pigtails, nestled beneath the sprawling branches of that Gulmohar tree, lost in her own little universe as she diligently works on her school assignments. In that moment, she is untouched by the world around her, free from the nagging reminders to sit up straight or to nibble her snacks with decorum. Unlike me, she isn't shadowed by a legion of guards scrutinizing her every move. I get to sneak to that place only three days a week Didaa-Sundays, Fridays, and Tuesdays-yet I am sure she gets the chance to go there whenever she wants. She smiles freely, she laughs wholeheartedly, and she plays at her own accord. There is no pretense because there is simply no one there to judge her as well."

Averting his gaze from the tree, he looked at her again. "That's how different we are. Because she has always had something, I never had."

"Yet, we are similar at the same time." He chuckled sardonically. "Didaa, You had to leave for college, so you left. Grandpa, no doubt he cares a lot about me; still, he was either busy inside his office here in the manor or back at the corporation. As for Maa and Papa, I don't even want to talk about them." He gulped. "Daman and Ira, I don't know, but the dynamics between us three have always been so complicated. I never really understood the kind of sibling relationship we three had. Neither close nor distant. Too confusing. On top of this, I am allowed to meet Tapan and the others only once in a while outside the school or when I am in school. But even school is over now." He wetted his lips. "I feel lonely. I feel left out. The stillness in the manor makes me want to hide myself somewhere and never come out, and in a trice, like a violent wind gushing in through an open window I am reminded of the fact that indeed, I live in a gilded cage. A quiet and lonely gilded cage." From his peripheral vision, he noticed a bright rubicund Gulmohar blossom feathering down on the brown Earth. "But it's also when I see her alone under that tree that I am also reminded of another fact. I am not the only one who is lonely, because even in the freeness of all her actions, her smiles and laughter, I see a kind of loneliness that even I am accustomed to. And this is what has always drawn me to her-the paradox of our lives. The similarity yet the dissimilarity. The urge to earn the kind of freedom she has yet the thirst to know what has caused her to be so forlorn. Gradually, it just turned into a habit, a respite or an escape perhaps that slowly turned into momentary warmth."