Part 3

Daksh knocked at Vrinda's door. His breaths shuddered in the anticipation of myriads of possibilities that could unfold upon their meet. The last ray of his hope flickered like the lamp in the extravagant doorway designed in a manner befitting a palace. The cobwebs and the layer of dust over the surfaces stood in stark contrast to the riches the architecture boasted.

"Come in."

Her weak voice tore through his reverie of thoughts. He rotated the doorknob and pushed against the door to enter the room. He had lost the count of the number of times he had visited her room over the past decades, but nothing felt the same. Never did he have to knock at her door, never did he have to look into her weak eyes struggling to identify him.

"Aunty said someone would take her place in narrating anecdotes from childhood. Unfortunately, I don't recognize you. I am sorry about that," she said, a warm and apologetic smile stretching itself upon her chapped lips.

Daksh smiled, reciprocating her kind gesture. He took his seat beside her bed as she looked at him with an icy cold blank stare which scanned his features to recognize him, only to fail once again, burning his heart.

"No worries, Vrinda! I am Daksh Agarwal. You used to call me 'Bhai', Vrinda, but now you can address me in the manner you like," he said.

A grateful smile played on her lips. "If I used to call you 'Bhai' in the past, then I will continue addressing you in the same manner, Bhai. I might remember nothing from my past, but you do. I don't want to cause you any more pain than I already am causing by addressing them in a manner different from I used to. That's the least I can do."

The remains of the past had decayed beyond repair, but the warmth emanating from the essence of the past had not disappeared. She was not aware of the reason she felt she could open up to him with no doubt ravaging her mind.

Vrinda's words brought tears to his eyes. Her compassion shone out through the darkest of times, and witnessing it again reignited the hope in Daksh that everything did not drown in the vortex of despair. He wanted to voice out the joy brought by her words, but he chose against it. It would only make her lament over her lost memories further and bereave the bonds she had buried deeper than she could reach. And that was the last thing he wanted.

"Thank you, Vrinda. I am six years elder to you, Vrinda, and being near your age and being a good friend to you in the past, I have memories of the greater part of your childhood. That's why, Maa thought it is appropriate that I share my memories since they can fill a larger gap."

"That was thoughtful of Aunty. So, was I mischievous? Or was I silent?" she asked.

Her child-like innocence twinkling in her eyes as she stared at him with a desperation so reminiscent to Daksh of the Vrinda they had known and loved that he had to stifle a sob which struggled to escape his lips.

"You were both, Vrinda. You would no chance at mischief at home, but quite silent otherwise. Some thought that you were shy. A few thought you were arrogant about your family's status and another few thought you were guilty of something because you used to be quite mischievous."

The faces of those who considered those possibilities flashed in his tumultuous mind, but it would do no good for Vrinda to learn of them.

"What was the truth, Bhai? I cannot relate to either of those emotions," Vrinda replied as the lightning of realization struck her, burning her in the way, "... but that could be because I have forgotten......."

"The truth was something wholly different.."

FLASHBACK

"But Bhaiya, she does so much nautanki ghar pe. This not like that and that not like this, why silent in class?" asked Vivaan.

His broken English, as he tried to apply his teachings at school into real-life, made Daksh end up in splits. Daksh held his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.

"Why don't you speak in Hindi till you actually learn English? That way you wouldn't kill people."

"Bhaiyya..."

Vivaan pouted in frustration at his twelve-year-old brother, who seemed to think that he was aware of the happenings of the entire world.

"Okay, I will tell you, because I don't want to listen to that sentence again! Mumma- Papa and Kaka-Kaki were discussing it yesterday. Vrinda has some kind of mutism. Selective mutism, I guess," said Daksh, remembering the explanation which his teacher had given him when he had questioned him about it.

Vrinda was the sister he had always yearned for, and they had hit off like siblings at their very first meet. It hurt his innocent heart that she could not joke around, indulge in playful fights or make funny noises like they did at his home. At school or most times at her home, she was a shell of the vivacious little girl he loved playing with.

"Silechive? Mootism?" asked Vivaan as he stared at his brother as if he had seen an alien. Daksh, himself, was questioning Vivaan's teachers' capabilities and teaching proficiency.

"Arre Mere Bhai, Selective Mutism. Gai Ki Tarah Mat Bol, Mootism. Selective Mutism Yaani Ek Disease Jisme Woh Kabhi Kabhi Bol Bhool Jaati Hai, Khaas Karke Tab Jab Uspe Dabav Ho," said Daksh, placing his arm over his brother's shoulder.

(Oh, brother mine, it is selective mutism and don't say it like a cow. Mootism, apparently. It is a disorder in which she forgets the words, especially when she is in tensed.)

Vivaan furrowing his eyebrows and shrugged away the arm of his brother. He glared at his elder brother as if he was the lone-wolf standing against the conspiracy of one and all.

"Arre Main Bhi Tho Wahi Bol Raha Tha Na? Silecthive Myutism! Lekin Mujhe Nahi Lagta Ki Usse Koi Bimaari Hai, Woh Tho Bas Natak Karti Hai! Lunch Le Leti Hai Meri, Tab Ache Se Pooch Sakti Hai Tho Baaki Time Kyun Nahi?"

(Hey, even I was saying the same thing. Silecthive Myutism! I don't think that she suffers from any such disease but is acting. She takes away my lunch and when she can be fine while demanding for it, then why not at other times?)

Daksh rolled his eyes at his brother as he turned to walk out on his brother because he was too young and too caught by his dislike of Vrinda to see the truth.

"First learn to pronounce the disease she is suffering and then you decide if she suffers from it or not," said Daksh as Vivaan protested despite his walkout.

"My pruninciation and idea correct! You wrong!"

FLASHBACK ENDS

"Forget him. Even I cannot believe that I had selective mutism. I mean, I am feeling a lot of pressure right now, Bhai, but I don't feel like I am going to go blank or I'll go mute any minute. How did it happen when I was young? Or is it because I don't have the pressures I had as a child?"

A lopsided grin played on her lips as she visualized the bond between the brothers.

Daksh remembered the words of the doctor who had examined Vrinda after she had overcome her mutism and the arguments which ensued.

"Your parents had very high expectations from you, Vrinda. Of talent and of etiquette. I think you couldn't take the pressure as a child of a few years to manage the perfect etiquette and absorb every bit of the advanced information given to you. Being from an influential family has its own downsides, and one of them is high expectations. Maybe your voice got suppressed under the burden of it and now that you don't feel it anymore, you don't suffer from it."

Vrinda sat benumbed at the recent information as the revelation that her family was her culprit struck her but she felt they would not have intended for her to suffer or feel any pain, instead their intention would have been quite contradicting to the result of the expectations.

"Your brother. Aunty told me we were best friends and you are saying he did not even believe I suffered from selective mutism, then how did we end up being friends, let alone best-friends?" she asked, trying hard to get the picture of her yesteryear best friend in her mind, but it was of no avail.

"He was an immature kid. He came around eventually and you did not just become friends, but best-friends who needed just a look to understand each other, removing the need of words. It is for him you finally overcame your fear, which resulted in your speech disorder."

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