The New Phase by Swagata Soumyanarayan

Deepti tensed as they drove by the mustard fields near a highway in Haryana. The golden flowers waved in the late afternoon sun but Deepti was unmoved by its beauty, the flowers a constant reminder of her horrific past.

Her husband Anubhav who was at the wheel took a look at her expression and it wrenched his heart that her tight scarred face said it all. A slight smile was always in place, the final result of a skin graft, one among several. Part of both eyebrows were missing and her speech had a bit of a slur. Dressed in a simple printed salwar kurta, Deepti’s inner trauma wasn’t visible to the onlooker. Corn fields scared her and nauseated her.

Only Anubhav knew about it and she gazed at the man who had rescued her; the kindest person in her world. Dr Anubhav was a burns specialist who held camps in villages to talk about evils of dowry and was often joined by social activists. His fervor regarding the subject, made Deepti‘s heart fill with pride. Though she could never verbalize it, Anubhav was her own ‘Superman’.

Twelve years ago, Dr Anubhav had been driving by another village in Haryana. The faint light painted a scenic picture of dense ripe fields of corn and mustard on either side of the highway. He had stopped to make a call when he heard the keening of some injured animal. Putting on parking lights he decided to investigate. Maybe he could save it. He walked ahead waving the cell phone light in the form of a grid. What he saw froze him in his tracks.

The young girl lay in a fetal position as he bent to check her. She had bruises on her cold hands, but he gasped seeing her face that was an angry mass of raw flesh. Some bastard had poured acid on it! Anubhav knew he had to act fast. Infection, blood loss, and so much more could cause her death.

He lifted her carefully talking to her constantly heading back to his car. She would be alright, he would help her. She would be fine, they were going to a safe place, hold on, please. He cradled her head against the back seat and phoned a colleague for the nearest specialty hospital. Her stillness worried Anubhav. She was in shock. He held her up and gently poured the drinking water from his bottle to wash some of the chemicals off her face. She shrieked then, her hand lashing at him, making a gurgling sound. Anubhav’s hand shook but he held her firmly talking continuously. Sorry for the pain, she was very brave but would she please bear a little bit more? He placed sterile gauze that he carried for emergencies, over her face gently, saying a prayer.

Later Saloni could never recall a single moment of that day. Her psychiatrist said she had repressed it for her own sanity. It took two years of hospitals, skin grafts, physiotherapy and counselling sessions to stand without cowering in fear.

Though the nightmares stayed. But she’d do everything to keep away the demons from taking over her life completely. Anubhav had tried to get in touch with her family a month later, but her father’s cold eyes denied that Saloni Alhawat, as she was called earlier, had ever existed. A calm man by nature, Anubhav came very close to hitting the older man. He recalled a woman crying quietly in the background and the small boy who held on to her with fearful eyes. Anubhav had gone back the house and asked for Saloni’s birth certificates that he got along with a bunch of papers and that was it. Saloni’s treatment complete, she was now of legal age and could make decisions if needed. She was just seventeen when she was burnt and now stood at the brink of choosing a life for herself.

Anubhav took her aside one day and asked her what she wanted next.

Saloni was silent, her face guilty, sad and angry at the same time.

Anubhav surprised himself and blurted out would she consider marrying him? He never thought about the reason but just seeing her put on a brave face every day killed him. He had no family and she needed help in getting by in the world. She had never raged or cried out loud, tolerated pain beyond imagination. Her heart devastated with tremendous loss, Saloni never once spoke of her brother Aarav and mother. One event had wiped out her entire identity.

Saloni had answered his proposal with a simple yes, though she asked time till she graduated. He agreed. She completed her degree in counselling while undergoing therapy.

Life with Saloni changed slowly after marriage. A few days into their marriage, she asked to change her name legally to Deepti. She would learn about survivors like herself, and how to counsel them through anxiety and depression. It would help bury some of her past ghosts.

They lived as friends who were getting to know each other. For Anubhav, it was a new feeling and he looked forward to going home and seeing Deepti, hoping marriage would bring them closer.

Her psychiatrist had warned him to be patient so she could heal her own self. He wondered what went on in her mind. Living together they never even held hands or had any kind of intimate conversation. On some days, Deepti accompanied him to his clinic that specialized in critical care, asking questions about patients, their families and the therapy they would undergo. That day Anubhav got a call from his clinic asking him to hurry back. The nurse called him about an emergency burns victim.

Deepti waited as Anubhav rushed in. It was almost 8 pm. After stabilizing the girl, a survivor of second degree burns, Anu explained how she had over thirty percent burns and her chances of survival were tough as she was malnourished with a low hemoglobin count. It was a dowry case and the police came, taking statements from a relative who showed little sympathy. Anubhav watched Deepti as she hung around listening to the conversation, her eyes barely able to suppress her rage.

What would happen to the girl once she woke up and found herself alone? The question haunted them. The presence of one person made the difference to the survivor’s well-being and recovery.

He watched now as Deepti took off the mask she always wore in public. He had heard cruel comments about her face and it hurt knowing that he couldn’t protect her all the time. The burns victim was sedated and on a high dose of painkillers.

“I’ll stay here for the night, if it’s okay ” Deepti told him. “I’ll be late but if you’re sure of this, ask the nurse to point you to the break room and grab a nap ” Anubhav added “you’ll be of more use to her if you’re rested.” Deepti was relieved to see Anubhav go along with her. She felt a kinship with the girl and wanted to meet her. She wasn’t sure what she could achieve but if she could a difference then she would try. As Anubhav turned to go Deepti called out.

“What’s her name?”

“It’s Salma, come with me, I’ll show you her chart.”

They stood outside the room where Salma lay connected with tubes and sheets on her burnt skin. Anu explained that they would consider skin substitutes like cell-scaffolds to enhance healing. The room was sealed off to prevent sepsis, and the doctor wore protective equipment to go inside. Deepti stood reading the chart and thinking of the frail body trying to hold on to life.

She smiled her lopsided smile. Saloni and Salma. Maybe she was destined to help another Saloni. She thanked the universe for bringing Anubhav into her life.

She would hold on to him and heal

Looking at Salma through the glass, she whispered as if Salma could hear her.

“I’m here if you need me you’re not alone in this, Salma. Hold on, one day at a time. My name is Deepti. We’ll heal together and you will breathe on your own. I can share my story if you’ll hear me,” She waited.

At the reception a young man asked for Dr Anubhav. He said his name was Aarav Alhawat.

Swagata Soumyanarayan enjoys stories; both reading and writing them She is a poet, translator, and an artist She has a background in content creation, translations and editing Her translated works as part of an anthology are published in “Potpourri- An Anthology of Poems and Tales from India” and “Noukalpi and Other Stories in Translation ”

She resides in Mumbai and enjoys learning new languages and words Among her favorite things are monsoons, watching KDramas, and trying out different teas Her poetry can be read on Instagram

Email: connect2swa@gmail com