Nothing to Regret

By Tanya Dias

Ananya, a recent college graduate is struggling to find happiness in her life. Already wallowing in depression, she’s devastated when she finds out that Ajji, her grandmother is diagnosed with a terminal illness. In a sudden turn of events, she’s entrusted with fulfilling Ajji’s last wish. Ananya sets out on a solo trip across Rome, Paris and London. On the way, she discovers a shocking family secret — a love saga that was kept hidden for decades.
Does unconditional love truly last forever? Will Ananya succeed in her mission?
She’s running against time...

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Nov 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9789388942645

Tanya Dias

Tanya Dias grew up in Goa and was granted a merit scholarship by London School of Economics and Political Science, where she completed her MSc in Sociology. As a teenager, she was awarded the prestigious National Balshree Award in Creative Writing, presented by the then President of India Dr APJ Abdul Kalam. She is currently pursuing a PhD, juggling her time between writing and motherhood.

Book preview

One

May 2019

It was a sweltering hot day outside, being one of Goa’s warmest afternoons. Ironically, inside the general ward of the hospital, the air was eerily cool. It was my turn to keep watch, so I was being as alert as possible. The pulse monitor and several other whizzing machines kept running as normal, so I knew that Ajji, my grandmother, was still alright. Her ragged breaths interrupted the silence, punctuating the ominous beeping of the medical machinery.

I looked down at Ajji’s face, serene despite her illness. I wondered what she was dreaming about, or if being unconscious put her into a dark, dreamless slumber. I had been sitting silently for hours, leafing through a yellowing magazine. I couldn’t read through it again for the tenth time. Placing the magazine on my chest, I sank into the mouldy cushioned chair.

Can you hear me, Ajji? I craned forward to look at her more closely. She had an oxygen mask placed over her mouth and an intravenous drip by her bedside. Ajji had been sleeping for quite some time now, so I was sure she couldn’t hear me − but wanted to check anyway.

As I had expected, Ajji didn’t respond. The pulse monitor beeped rhythmically in the background. She had been medically sedated, to allow a quicker recovery. The doctors said her medications would wear off after a few hours. She would only awaken after that. This was my best chance.

I know you can’t hear me, I began, settling back into my chair. It’s good you can’t though, because I don’t want anyone to know this...

As soon as I uttered those words, I felt a horrible pain sear through my heart. My eyes stung with tears, even though I desperately tried to blink them away. I felt guilty for bringing up my own problems when I was supposed to look after Ajji, but I just couldn’t help it. These days, I felt like I would never be happy again. How would I ever be able to forget the one I loved? It wasn’t humanly possible. Akshay was the perfect boyfriend − so affectionate and devoted to me. We spoke for hours on end, but it was all over now. We could have had a fairy-tale life, but I wasn’t good enough for him anymore. I had ruined everything.

Akshay dumped me last week. Saying it out loud made it feel more real. I never thought this would happen, but it had. I had nothing left to live for. I can understand why you lost your mind, Ajji, I mused, glancing at her to ensure she was still asleep. It’s the worst feeling when someone you love leaves you.

Ajji remained still as a statue. The machines whirred, as if in response.

As I thought of Akshay again, tears streamed down my face. Hurriedly, I dabbed my cheeks with the edge of my sleeve. Suddenly, I felt very anxious − what if Ajji could hear everything I said? What would she think of me? My heart began racing, making my skin go cold. Gathering all my courage, I brushed the irrational fear away. If she could, she would have reacted, I convinced myself. In any case, I needed to speak to someone without the fear of being judged. I needed to get this off my chest. I couldn’t hide the pain any longer.

Mumma says you don’t like talking about your sadness... I whispered, imagining Ajji as a young woman, and wondering what her life was like, when she was my age. Since my mother was born when Ajji was only twenty-one, I knew she was already married to my grandfather by then, probably living the life of her dreams. At sixty-seven now, Ajji was relatively young to have a grandchild as old as me. I wondered whether I’d have grandkids when I turned sixty-seven. I’d probably still be waiting for my Prince Charming to come back to me, the way things were going.

I can’t talk about this to anyone either, I said. My life isn’t exactly going the way I wanted it to. I didn’t do that well in college, graduated with rubbish marks, still don’t have a job... and now Akshay has left me. I paused for a moment, allowing the grief to take over my mind. I was tired of holding up. I was tired of everything. I try to be happy and positive, but the dark thoughts keep coming back to me... I paused, hesitant to continue. I had never told anyone about this at all. It was alright to speak to Ajji though, because she was harmless right now. She was unconscious herself, so no one else would find out what I had said to her either. I try to fight the dark thoughts away, but I can’t... I feel like I don’t have the courage to live this life. I wonder if it would be better if I ended it all. I wonder if death is better than life. As the words escaped my mouth, I felt a bitter taste on my tongue. I felt guilty, almost disgusted with myself. My mind clouded with thoughts I couldn’t understand... voices that spoke over each other. I knew I needed help, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Mumma about what I was going through. With Ajji’s health deteriorating, she had enough worries of her own already.

Just last month, Ajji had developed a fever and a persistent, unexplained skin rash on her chest that didn’t seem to go away. Though she took the prescribed medications, her illness got worse. Mumma immediately arranged for her to be admitted to the hospital, so she could constantly be monitored by doctors. Since Mumma had to go to work during the day, I had offered to stay at the hospital to keep watch. It’s not like I had anything else to do anyway. This was the least I could do, to make myself useful.

Before I could say anything else to Ajji, a cheerful nurse jostled into the room. Everything alright, little girl? she asked, breezily walking towards Ajji’s bed. Let’s see how Juliet is doing...

She checked Ajji’s pulse, scribbling something on a notepad as she examined her vitals. Juliet seems fine... she muttered to no one in particular, chewing the end of a pen. She then shifted her gaze to me, eyeing me sympathetically. You look like you need a break. If you want to buy something to eat from the hospital canteen, I can look after your grandmother for a few minutes.

T-thank you, I stuttered, surprised at her kindness. I felt a wave of relief rush over me. Talking about my pain had been emotionally draining, but temporarily made me feel much better. I’ll go downstairs to the cafeteria. I placed the well-thumbed magazine back on the rusty rack beside me. I’ll be back in a minute. I grabbed my colourful fabric jhola bag from the back of the chair and slung it over my shoulder. As I found my way through the dank corridors outside the ward, I was glad no one had heard what I had just told Ajji. If anyone knew what I was thinking, they would freak out.

As it later turned out, that one day at the hospital changed the course of my life. Little did I know that Ajji had a secret herself, something she had hidden for decades.

Two

March 1970

The atmosphere in the operation theatre was tense. A patient had been brought into the hospital complaining that she couldn’t feel her baby’s movements, which the ward nurse had originally dismissed as the mother’s imaginary fear. The woman was already eight months into her pregnancy, so there was nothing to worry.

The Goa Health Centre’s hospital staff knew the pregnant woman quite well. Her husband’s family kept pressurising her to give birth to a son and this was the woman’s fifth pregnancy after four daughters. She didn’t have a very supportive spouse either. From the village gossip, the ward staff had heard about how the woman’s abusive marriage was taking a toll on her mental health. She arrived at the hospital in a disheveled state, begging the nurses to call a doctor, claiming that something was not right with her baby. Initially, they thought she was having a panic attack due to her impending delivery, but on further examination, they realised she was right.

By the time Dr. Anil Desai had been summoned, precious moments had been lost. Within a few minutes of examining the patient, he had called for an emergency c-section. The mother was right — the baby’s heartbeat had slowed down considerably. They would have to deliver the baby immediately. The next time you’re faced with something like this, let me decide if the patient needs medical attention or not, Dr. Anil reprimanded the nurse, chiding her for not taking the mother’s concern seriously enough.

Fortunately, the operation progressed swiftly. Dr. Anil’s expert hands worked deftly, creating a surgical incision through the woman’s skin. His gloved hand out, Dr. Anil sternly instructed, Sister, forceps.

A young, brown-eyed nurse handed over the newly sterilised forceps to Dr. Anil, watching him in awe. Juliet had just been posted in the gynecological department of the hospital, as part of her training course. She had heard a lot about Dr. Anil, but this was the first time she was assisting him in the operation theatre. As she witnessed him work so confidently to save the mother and child, she felt a newfound motivation towards her job. It wasn’t surprising. Dr. Anil had an impeccable reputation at the hospital. He wasn’t just any other medical professional − he had a real passion for the work he did.

Within moments, the wailing of an infant filled the room. Dr. Anil cut the umbilical cord, with a sigh of relief. A precious little life had been saved. There was no better reward than this.

Juliet assisted Dr. Anil as he sutured the woman’s incision. The stitches could be removed a few weeks later, when the surgery wound had completely healed. Juliet handed over a cotton swab to Dr. Anil, who gently wiped the excess blood from the woman’s skin. The surgery was successful.

As she coyly glanced at Dr. Anil, Juliet felt butterflies in her stomach. He was so dedicated to his patient’s well- being. He wasn’t just a brilliant doctor, but also a compassionate human being. Juliet wondered if he received the gratitude he deserved? Did his patients thank him enough for his selfless service?

Before she could think, Juliet found herself involuntarily blurting, Thank you, Doctor. As soon as she had spoken, she mentally kicked herself for saying that. Why did she even do such a thing? Dr. Anil would think she was a silly fool.

Dr. Anil looked at Juliet, who was visibly flustered now. Her face was covered with a green surgical mask, with only her striking brown eyes showing. He looked at her for a few seconds, like he was trying to recall who she was. Juliet gulped nervously, realising that a prolific doctor like him probably wouldn’t know she was a newly recruited trainee nurse. After several excruciating seconds, he gave her a feeble smile. He looked amused. In all likeliness, he had forgotten how nice it felt to be thanked for a successful medical procedure. You’re welcome, he replied, his smooth voice making Juliet’s heart skip a beat. It’s my duty.

Juliet nodded her head, feeling slightly embarrassed. Fortunately, he hadn’t laughed at her stupidity. Prising herself from the awkward situation, Juliet hurried towards the table where the baby was being swaddled by the other nurses. She was meant to be helping them with their work, not waste her time chatting with the handsome doctor instead.

The nurses were discussing something in hushed tones. This is going to cause some drama, one of the nurses said to another, shaking her head from side to side. She tied the ends of the baby’s swaddle into a tiny knot. The infant was now wrapped snugly. She then looked at Juliet and said, The family is waiting outside, let them meet the child. The nurse placed the infant in Juliet’s arms. Take the baby to them. Juliet nervously cradled the child, unsure of what to do. The baby’s eyes were still closed. She gingerly walked out of the operation theatre. As Juliet stepped out, she was blinded by the bright sunshine in the corridor outside. An elderly woman was waiting eagerly by the door, flanked by a younger man. They were probably the baby’s grandmother and father.

What is it? The grey-haired woman asked, wrinkling her nose.

Juliet was taken aback. She didn’t realise what the woman meant. It’s a... baby, she muttered, not knowing what else to say.

The woman made an exasperated clucking noise with her tongue, as she and the baby’s father exchanged sour glances. Let me check, she said, reaching for the baby. She roughly undid the swaddle knot with her craggy hands. She peeked at the infant’s body to find the answer. It was a baby girl.

The grandmother slapped her forehead, angrily exclaiming, We must be cursed! Another girl!

I’m surprised you’re saying that, a smooth voice intervened. Dr. Anil had emerged from the operation theatre. He usually didn’t have the time to speak to patients’ families, but it looked like he had a point to make.

Juliet felt her heartbeat quicken. Dr. Anil was right next to her. She tried to remain composed.

The elderly woman was surprised that a doctor had joined in the conversation. She quickly changed her tone, plastering a smile on her face. Namaste, Doctor, she said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.

Dr. Anil was unfazed. If being a girl is a curse... let me know when you want your surgery appointment scheduled, he said, with a straight face.

What surgery, Doctor? The woman asked, feeling alarmed. Her