Page 139 - Till the Last Breath . . .

years.

‘There is nothing more to it. He is a great doctor and a brilliant teacher.’
There was silence again. Her mom tried to bring up topics like when she
planned to get married, and whether she was in love with someone, and she

shot everything down with disdain. Her parents had stunned expressions on
their faces, wondering what they had done wrong to deserve such hostile

treatment from their daughter. What do they know? She, on the other hand,
felt nauseated sitting next to her father. After dinner, her father opened up a

bottle of whisky he had got and invited Zarah to join him. She refused, even
though she really wanted that drink.

It took her three hours and two potent joints to fall asleep. Stoned, she
even dialled Dushyant’s number, but couldn’t get through. The network in
the hospital had always been suspect. Her eyes were sore and the pillow

was wet by the time her eyelids swept down. She wished her dad had
understood her when she really wanted it … No, needed it. At times, she

wondered if he still remembered that day when she had mentioned the
incident to him. Did he really not know that their discord had stemmed

from the moment when he had not believed his own daughter? Was he such
a coward that he couldn’t stand up to his seniors?

Every time she thought about forgiving her father, horrifying images of a
young Zarah dragging herself through the washroom, blood trickling down
her thighs, crying soundlessly, waiting for her hero—her father—to save

her flooded her mind. If her dad had not been there to support her through
that then, she certainly didn’t need him now.