《If》


 Ch-0. PROLOGUE- Jiyas Agony

    14th October, 20XX


    The roots scraping against the window cut into her sleep. The room where Jiya slept was a small cottage situated in the back of the vast, luxurious manor. The broken, cracked windowpanes rattled due to the strong wind blowing outside, and soon after, water drops started pouring out of the rooftop. Jiya sat upright as her bed made a squeaking sound.


    It was past midnight, it was dark, without a single speck of light.


    She was wearing a very thin tattered shirt and a skirt with stitches visible here and there and walked her way out towards an old wooden cupboard. She pulled out a candle lit it up with a matchstick and looked outside through the crack in the windowpane, it was raining outside. The sky was screaming as if to commemorate someone''s despair. The wind blew past her through the broken windowpane and the candle lit off.


    She shivered, it was cold. Jiya hugged herself to feel her warmth and crouched down against the old cupboard. The rattling of the window panes, the dripping sound of water drops, the creaking of the rooftop, and the thunderous noise of the sky pierced through her ears.


    "Again.." she mumbled with a blank look on her face. Another sleepless night she thought. However, this was nothing new to her, after all, she had spent 14 years of her life living here. She came here when she was 10, this house was the one which protected her from heat, cold and rain, it was the one which never took anything in return for its kindness, the one which gave her something unconditionally, the one which never left her side. But now, even this was going to be taken away from her.


    Hot tears formed in her eyes but she resisted them from falling. She shouldn''t cry, she is not weak, she is strong, she has to be, she repeated to herself. Who was she trying to prove? no one was there, not a single soul but she could still feel their presence.


    "Mom...Dad.." her voice was as low as a whisper. She could still feel their warmth, the way they hugged her, loved her. Nonetheless, it was in the distant past, now she was alone, and she had only herself to rely on.


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    '' Jiya, be strong '', her mother said.


    '' Jiya, you should never give up '', her father encouraged.


    Their voice echoed in her head. She never once cried in the past 14 years, but today was different. She couldn''t resist.


    She lit up the candle once again and pulled out a small chest from the old cupboard. It was a wooden box with a golden lining and a small hole in the rear.


    Click.


    Emily opened the chest with the small key attached to the chain around her neck. Inside the chest was an oval-shaped pendant, around the size of a pigeon''s egg.


    Drip.


    The girl who tried her best to not shed tears until a moment ago now couldn''t do so. Tears flowed from her eyes ceaselessly. She squeezed the pendant with both of her hands and fell on her knees, but in the thundering storm, no one heard her cries, her screams, her agony. There was no one to look for her, no one to care for her. But it had always been like this, no one heard her, no one cared for her, no one loved her...


    14 years ago a harsh decision was made for her and the history was going to be repeated. 14th October, she hated this unfateful day, she despised it. She hoped this day would never come, the day she lost everything. The day she can''t forget how desperately she crawled towards the wet mud, like a madman she was digging in the ground, just to get a glimpse of the people she loved. It was the same back then, the sky howled along with her but no one cared. Just a few hours ago she was holding their hands, smiling brightly as if she had all the happiness in the world, but the next moment she knew, everything turned into a devastating nightmare.


    A ten-year-old alone in the graveyard next to hundreds of corpses buried. She was just desperately trying to meet the ones she loved, least she knew they were dead, they were no more. Getting wet in the rain she fainted at a point and found herself in a hospital. She was still in a state of shock, living alone was like hell to her but decisions were predetermined for her...she was adopted by her uncle. A ten-year-old Jiya lived all by herself in a small cottage, which was located behind the large manor where she once lived. Dusting the house she used to live in, craving the meals she used to have once, envious of her little sister (daughter of her uncle) for having what she didn''t have -'' Love ''. She never regretted how she was always taken advantage of, be it in school or college. It was as if it didn''t matter as she knew that she didn''t have a choice, to begin with.


    " Once again...once more" she screamed, her voice now hoarse from all the shouting. She was now being sold off to a man who hated her, who despised her, and today, 14th October was her wedding day the very day her parents left the world leaving her all alone.

 Ch-1

    Have you ever wondered what happiness is?


    Not the textual meaning of an emotional state characterized by feelings of joy, satisfaction and contentment, but something on a deeper level.


    It is the feeling of devastation, the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of misery, sorrow, grief, and heartbreak that paves the way to happiness. A person who never felt those can never know what true happiness is. Now, can a rich person understand the happiness of finding a 100 Rupee note on the street? Can a common person appreciate the contentment of successfully growing a difficult crop? Can a doctor understand the joy of running a code without any errors? Can an engineer comprehend the happiness of saving a life? Can a top student appreciate the satisfaction of just passing an exam?


    Happiness is not the same for everyone. And even for the same person, the same situations can not always bring happiness- the so-called satisfaction or contentment.


    The ten-year-old Jiya didn''t know having her parents by her side was the biggest happiness she could ever wish for, until one day.


    Jiya had it all. A picture-perfect life.


    From a loving family that seemed straight out of a heartwarming family drama, to friends who were more like loyal side-kicks, her life story unfolded like a best-seller you couldn''t put down.


    But did you know, the protagonists are the ones who suffer the most?


    You might think the life of a side character is the worst, they are the ones used as stepping stones for the main character to shine, their sole purpose to appear in certain situations to help the protagonists succeed. But what after the little screen time role is finished? - they are free. They are freed from the shackles of the story to act in that particular way.


    But the protagonists are not.


    The leads, female or male are continuously put into unprecedented situations, heartbreaks, and trials to make them outshine the others. They remain puppets, not freed from the story even after it ends. A happy-ending? How can someone who has been a puppet all their life act on their own when it suddenly ends, with no more instructions?


    "Happy Ending?" There is no such thing. Neither, for the side characters nor the main characters.


    "A Picture-Perfect Life?" Nothing but an illusion. In the end, the choices we make leave us with ''Ifs.'' The regrets we harbour, and the wishful thinking about what might have happened ''if'' we had made different choices.


    True happiness is fleeting and deeply personal, born from the struggles we endure and the choices we make. It is not an everlasting state but a series of moments and realizations that we come to appreciate, often through contrast with our sorrows and regrets.


    Every morning, Jiya would wake up to the soft hum of her mother¡¯s singing. Her servants would be downstairs, preparing breakfast, her father reading the newspaper on their cosy extravagant sofa with a cup of coffee in his hand. They would sit together, and have their meal with a smile that warmed the whole house. Jiya''s days were filled with laughter and love, her biggest worry being the math problems she couldn''t solve on the first try.


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    Every Saturday afternoon, like clockwork, her father would take her to the park to ride her bicycle. Jiya had been pestering him for weeks to remove the training wheels from her bike. She wobbled at first, but her father''s steady hand on the seat reassured her. After several attempts, she finally managed to ride on her own, her father cheering loudly from behind. The pride and joy she felt at that moment were unparalleled, yet it was just another Saturday routine.


    The annual family trip to the beach was another predictable event. Jiya loved the sensation of the warm sand between her toes and the cool waves crashing against her legs. Her mother would build sandcastles with her, while her father would take her out to sea, teaching her how to swim. Those vacations were a magical escape, a time when the family bond felt unbreakable. But as wonderful as they were, they were also part of the expected rhythm of her life, anticipated and never truly questioned.


    On weekends, Jiya and her family had a tradition of movie nights. They would gather in the living room, lights dimmed, and watch classic films while munching on popcorn. Her father¡¯s laughter and her mother¡¯s commentary added an extra layer of enjoyment to the experience. These nights were a comforting routine, a pause button on the busyness of everyday life. But like all routines, it became predictable, almost boring in its consistency.


    Festivals were another source of immense joy. During Diwali, the house would be adorned with lights and decorations. Jiya loved helping her mother make sweets and her father lit the diyas. The family would come together, sharing stories and laughter late into the night. Yet, even these celebrations had a repetitive rhythm, year after year, becoming a part of the background of her life, taken for granted.


    Then there were the rainy days, when Jiya and her friends would dance in the rain, splashing through puddles, their clothes soaked but spirits high. Her mother would have warm towels and hot chocolate ready when she returned home, shivering and exhilarated. These simple pleasures, the smell of wet earth, the taste of hot chocolate, and the cozy warmth of home, were what made Jiya¡¯s life truly special. But even the rain followed its own predictable pattern, bringing with it the same joys and routines, so familiar that they seemed almost mundane.


    It was a life filled with simple joys and unspoken security, a life she believed would last forever.


    But alas! Jiya is the Protagonist.


    14th October, if only she hadn''t insisted on that family trip to the countryside. If she hadn''t thrown a tantrum in the backseat, demanding they visit her favourite spot by the lake. If she hadn''t stubbornly insisted on sitting in the front seat next to her father, distracting him just as the rain started pouring down in torrents. If only she had listened to her parents'' warnings and stayed home that day. If it hadn''t rained, perhaps the roads wouldn''t have been so slick, and her father wouldn''t have lost control of the car. If only she had been more patient, and less insistent, maybe they would have turned back before the storm hit.


    Perhaps, if she hadn''t been born at all, would they still be alive, her parents, her guiding lights now lost forever in the tragedy that unfolded that fateful day?


    The ''ifs'' haunted Jiya relentlessly. If she could rewind time, she would have made different choices. She would have cherished every mundane moment, every predictable routine, rather than pushing for something more, something different. Now, she has to face life without them, grappling with the harsh reality that happiness was not guaranteed, that ''ifs'' were all that remained of the life she once knew.


    The illusion of a picture-perfect life shattered, replaced by the stark truth of her own role in the tragedy.