Futuria

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

I know you will, I know you will, I know . . . 

-Lana Del Rey, Young and Beautiful

The interesting thing about taking a vacation, getting out of your city, travelling around, running away from everything,is that one day you will surely come across a place where you can actually see yourself getting settled. Settled as in staying more than a couple of days, a sense of permanence can be felt about that place which might not be upto the normal level. You have seen every famous place and not too famous one, you already have a favorite restaurant, you know some of the streetside vendors by their name and they know you just as a tourist who never takes any change, no matter how big it is. They think you are one of those tourists who came to see the city but fell in love and stayed back. You think about it, and for the first time do not fear the level of commitment that action will take.

You might just stay here.

It just might be the end of your running.

Goa is a place which is for everyone. There's a liberty in the salty air, in the chaotic and quiet beaches, in the people where local and foreigner merge effortlessly, which is unprecedented, you think. You have travelled the world, you should know a thing or two about places. Water and sands are everywhere and your house still smells like Sun, but the salty air lets you breathe properly for the first time in many years. Your shoes are filled with sand and the housekeeper, Stephan, might curse you for the extra cleaning, but you are so busy feeling this freedom, this bliss, that it makes you laugh. You laugh out loud, all alone by yourself, and you are not the only one who does that in this city. It has seen quite a few characters over the years, and you are one of them.

You might get used to it.

You forget all about the heartbreaks, broken promises and destruction. You left them all behind, and though people have accused you of being selfish, for thinking only about yourself, hell, you have accused yourself of being selfish, still you think to yourself it might be the first time in years when you are truly living for yourself.

And you like it. Want to stay behind.

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31st is different this year. Of course it is.

Every other year, you are either running or waiting in a dingy alley for a tip or brooding in your dark apartment which, when you think now, makes you shudder. You look at the Sun and the never ending breeze of this place and try to understand how could you ever stayed there?

This year, it's different.

Stephan took the permission to use to oven and made a turkey for his family, then left you a generous portion of it. He's so happy that you have not gone out the whole day and didn't ruin the place with sand that he's also humming as he cooked. You are sitting outside, the private area of beach totally secluded.

You are thinking how it would feel to sink your feet into the ocean. You were thinking about it since the day you arrived here.

Stephan left when it was 9 in the night and you started drinking. Not the depression kind, not even a celebratory kind. Maybe melancholic, because though this year is different you are still lonely. You think about calling to someone but don't, you might be lonely but others are not. 

The fireworks starts around 11. They are so beautiful, you think in awe. When was the last time you even witnessed one? You get up and try to look them better, try to capture them in your head forever. You feel something cold on your feet and look down, then start to laugh. You are standing in water, and it's freezing!

Happy New Year.

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Once in a while, when you are travelling or reading something or just smiling for no reason, you think about the people you left behind and promises, and the smile vanishes.

You almost never makes promises, because you are unpredictable like the tornado who doesn't know what it intends to do except for destrction. You know what does it feel like when someone betrays you, and broken promises are equivalent to that, and you would never wish that on someone else. Yet Aisha once took a promise from you, which feels like ages ago. To never ditch her team, to never mess them up, to always support them. You are not sure how much you fulfilled those, but you know in your bones those people, that Team, fulfilled them all even without promising anything.

Aisha took another promise from you too when you are about to leave, "Come back." You try to explain it might be impossible, because this city which was your home for over a decade now feels like a stranger and it's choking you to death, there are too many memories and your mere presence gurantees that all these wonderful people's lives are turned upside down, which you have done successfully for nearly 2 years. But she just shook her head and tried to made you repeat her words, to which you nodded and then left because you still wanted to leave with the little bit of dignity which requires not crying infront of others.

So often when you think about staying here, your head whispers what about the promise? And you have no answer. But you have scenerios.

Maybe send a postcard. Maybe leave a voicemail, even an old-fashioned letter. Maybe skype, maybe a visit on holidays. Maybe you will purposely stop by ETF because the temptation of being inside that building, standing in the bullpen, is so strong that even you can't deny that. Maybe keep in touch, anyway that could be possible. Aisha didn't mean the words the way you're thinking, she just meant don't run again. Don't disappear. Don't obliterate her from your life.

It's impossible, you think, to obliterate the woman who had so much faith in you even when you had no reason to.

But she's not the only person you left behind. You spend as much effort to not think about him as you do for the unspeakable scumbag. The two people are different, the reasons are so different, but the effort is similar. The two holds so much power over you that you think and wonder when did that happen?

Never in thousand years you had this scenerio in your head- you standing in the private beach area behind your penthouse, feet-deep in icy water, and Him, just behind you, not even making a sound to announce his presence. When you turn around and notice him for the first time, you actually feel all those things every trashy romance novels described with so many eloquent words- time stopping, blood rushing to head, eyes widening, erratic heartbeat. He looks so poised, maybe a little bit curious, that you feel it's unfair that only your are having this reaction.

You literally speaks no word to him, because you are not sure if your head is playing tricks or he's actually here, and it makes no sense he will be. How did he find you? Why did he come? You just need to make sure it's really him so you were walking at him, but suddenly you were in his arms and you both are kissing each other like your lives depend on it. It was inevitable, you think, the release of all those pent up emotions, frustrations, desires and feelings.

Maybe the journey towards bedroom could have been delayed, now you know that he's actually here. Maybe you should have ask the Hows and Whys, but he's really distracting you and you just need to have him close. You are practically wrapped around each other but it's not enough in this moment. Maybe Air is not all that necessary in that moment, it's just him.

It's dawn, Sun is still a red ball far across the horizon and stars are still going out, trying to fight with the almighty. It feels symbolic, the struggle, you think as you look at him sleeping beside you peacefully. There's a scar over his left shoulder which is not deep enough to be from a knife, or shaped enough to be by a bullet. Might be a childhood injury, you think as you trace it with your right pinky and just can't stop. You are so close that his breaths are tickling your face, and you think about the  Whys. WhyareyouherewhyyouheldmesoclosewhyyoubreakdownmywallswhyyoulovemewhydoyounevergiveupWhyWhyWhy. But then you think Screw it, does it matter? You know he loves you way before he even realized because you know the signs, you have been there before. For some unforseeable reasons he does and you are not going to question it, not at least today. 

You realized the reason of those sudden exhaustion you feel at various odd times. You are still tired of being alone. Of pushing everyone else.

But your head is a machine which never stops, so it had to ruin the moment. What's next? You are sure at this moment, you want to know this Man, want to know every story of his life, every person who broke his heart, the way he sees this world, the way his brains works, the way his heart beats and held so much place for others. But he has a life in the place which you have left behind, and you were not thinking about going back. You like it here, so how will that work?

You slowly pull yourself from his hold and got out of the bed.

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Turns out when your once upon a time purpose of life- Revenge, is over, you have plenty of time on hand. It also means you are often bored, add insomnia to it and sometimes it drives you crazy. You used to think revenge has to do something with the insomnia, but now that has proven wrong. You catch up on television, lots and lots of it. Not news though, because some chaos is going on and you know more than those TV anchor's so called 'Discussion'. You spend other time in reading, swimming in the inhouse pool, and running. Sometime walking too, just stroll around the city, but Running is a must. It's in your blood, one you can't stop. There is nothing to run away from, nothing to run towards. It's just a physical exercise now.

You now run, stops just 100 metre away from the penthouse. The Sun is glaring right now, looking towards it you think there was a time you have thought the moment your revenge is over, you will never see it. The Sun, the scenerio, the people, this world. But here you are, and still not ready to think What next? Look at you, someone who never stops running, so lazy you are being right now.

Or maybe it's just cowardice.

There's a figure in the balcony and you grin, hunching over and gripping both your knees. It maybe cowardice too, thinking about him and shutting off the voices which made you leave the penthouse way before the Sun rose. But you don't mind it because it's Him. 

You start sprinting again and don't stop until you are standing right in front of him. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You are the life, you are the knife, you are the color of my blood

You are the cure, you are the pain, you are the only thing I want to touch

Never knew it could mean so much, so much . . . 

- Ellie Goulding, Love me like you do

"Why are you here?" 

You saw it in her eyes the moment it landed on you, felt it when your lips met together, felt in the way she held you and touched you and just gave in. You know the answer, but you don't say. Maybe because you are not sure which words are to use.

7 months is a long time. When she left she was just a shell, her eyes begged for you to let go and you did, against every instinct which told you if you do, you will never see her again. She walked out of the door and you prayed to every God that is up there, which you questioned because of her, to help. Prayed that she makes it through.

It was 31st and dark sky was only illuminated by fireworks. You saw her relaxed posture and heard her laughter at nothing and you realized that might have been the best thing you could have ever done for her. Letting her go so that she can find herself again.

But these months were hell for you. Actually, Hell must be an understatement, you would have searched for words if you knew any other. There are moments in your life when you are in awe of her, when you thinks just how she just fit among your people as if there was always a place for her there. You always questioned if there was such a void before she arrived how come you never noticed it? After she left, you realized the void was not only in the team or during the work, it was in your life, in your head. You kept wishing for another figure to pop up during crime scene. You kept expecting another voice to interrupt you during team discussions rudely but unapologetically. You kept expecting a smug smile when a case was solved, you kept expecting a third voice to join you and Sameer when you brainstorm. You kept expecting a wave of tsunami in your heart and fire in your head but you had nothing. Everything was calm, too tame, too simple. You were addicted to complexity. 

You were addicted to Her.

It was not a revelation. The surprising part was how much hold she had over you. You knew you would go almost to any length when it concerns her, but you never knew her absence will be such a void that it will suck you right in. This is what missing someone feels like. Truly missing someone.

Telling Shree to track her Lamborgini was on a whim. It was such a long week, every bone in your body were screaming for hot shower and all you wanted to do was Sleep. But sleep always was about her, and it didn't help that those were happy drams, dreams of an alternative universe which could be yours if only you let it happen. Yet you closed your eyes and leaned back on the backrest of your chair. When you opened them, your eyes fell on the chair which she used to occupy.

It was untouched since the day she left, looked like she had just gone out for a cup of coffee which, she will eventually dump in the garbage. It always amused you, the way she would complain and make face about it, yet make it every single day and go through the same actions. Maybe it helped her to think.

And you finally had enough. Enough of the absence, of the emptiness. You had to knew something about her, anything.

When Shree gave an address and it was in Goa, suddenly everything was Different. The colors were brighter, more in focus, the movement of the people were sharper, the noises were more prominent. You felt like you were in some kind of a slumber and just waking up right now. The possibility of knowing how she is, where she is, was true now. Not just a I wish. 

And when it came to her, there was never any choice to make.

Then she was laughing. Her feet were soaked in what you felt was icy ocean water and there were fireworks everywhere and in 10 minutes it will be another Year, a New one, a Better one, and she was laughing looking at her feet. You felt like laughing and crying at the same time because she was right in front of you, whole and happy, and you had so many questions, where she was, how she was, why she is here, but you didn't ask any.

And then she turned around and looked at you and You were flying. 

You were lost.

Or maybe you were truly found for the first time. Maybe you found yourself in that moment, you don't know. One second you were standing afar, observing her, then she was in your arms and you had no idea who moved first but you were just there. In each other embrace, kissing like long lost lovers. You was lost in her touch, in her taste, in the small noises she made and your own groans, the sensation which is familiar and new at the same time, exhilarating and intoxicating at the same time.

When You finally closed your eyes that night, you could not stop thinking if it turns out another dream, you would truly break.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You opened your eyes when something poked in your eyes and groaned instantly. The mighty Sun was in it's full form, glaring hard at the Earth, and you were yet another victim of his rays which came through white silky curtains. Lying on your stomach, you turn around and notice the other side of the bed is empty. It was expected yet Not.

You run fingers through hair and think at least it was not a dream.

The penthouse is gorgeous and you have no idea how she can even afford it. At the mention of her, you look around and find none. You make yourself a cup of coffee and stand outside, soaking in the Sun. 

She arrives almost after an hour and grin at you like the way she always used to, mischievous and like she knows the secret of the world, and you could not help but return it.

You waste no time to ask her about the house, how she is affording it, and she looks at you in that funny way that makes you feel you are being dumb and missing something at the same time.

"I travelled the world." She says, which should have been the answer of the first question you should have asked. The most important question, "How do you think I afforded it?"

Honestly, you have no idea. She has been through so much, she has seen so much, she has so much resources that sometimes it's impossible not to think of her as invincible. Like she is the Mistress of the universe, who can do anything she wants.

She cross arms over chest, leans back in chair and asks, "Do you know who my Father is?"

You know then, the Hotel Empire by Ranawats and she is one of the three future generation of that family. You are in awe, surprised, and ashamed at the same time. How is this possible you try to know so much about her yet forgets to learn these basic things?

She seems to find your surprise amusing.

It also makes sense with the whole 'Taking Grandmother's surname' thing. Everything always makes sense with her after a while. In the end.

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There are piles of questions in your head, you are sure in her head too. About her, about you, about them. You two finally did It, you think to yourself, and you surprise yourself thinking how much your attraction and passion towards her comes from those mind numbingly infuriating, crazy arguments you two had in past. You have always tortured yourself thinking Why her and How, maybe you should have just pushed against the wall and kissed her senseless during one of the arguments. Maybe a bit of mystery would have been solved. Maybe you would have been addicted way back. Maybe you would have stopped fighting against it and give in. 

Or maybe you would have gotten a broken wrist and kick under the belt, you think to yourself and snort.

You two go out to visit the city, after all it's Goa, it will be stupid not to. She shows you the unexpected places, of course she does. The old forgotten abandoned church which is more beautiful than the local tourist attraction. The corner of the beach where none goes but provides the best place to see the perfect mix of hills and ocean. The small restaurant with no electricity which serves the best curry you have ever tasted. The rooftop of a casino which gives the best view of the stars. A spot guraneeted for Dolphins to show up right before the Sunset neat the Lighthouse. Valley of flowers situated in the midst of a Vineyard. 

She fits, you think, as you notice her hair twisting in knots thanks to never ending breeze from ocean. This place suits her.

You wonder if she will stay back.

You wonder if she will take your hand and walk away.

******************************************************************************

You are not good with words, and yet some of the speeches you gave in the last two years are either to her, or the subject was someway related to her. And as you settled down on a stool beside the bar counter of this penthouse, you try to prepare to give another one.

The house is gigantic, with five bedrooms and seven bathrooms and two entertainment room and two pools and so many other rooms that you feel exhausted even trying to think about it. She seems to take some sadistic pleasure seeing you baffled like this, if her nonstop smirk is anything to go by. It's her suggestion to settle here after the tour, and the fireplace right across the room is last straw for you. You start to laugh, and it seems like she has found it hillarious too. She joins you.

Then you fell silent, and she is staring at you like you are a fascinating creature. You stare back and wonder if that's what your gaze feels like, looks like. And suddenly you just can't stop the words, even though they are so less, so incomplete to convey what it's in your heart. You want to say running after her here and holding her in your arms and kissing her like your life depended on it and making love to her was not a one time thing. You want to say what you feel and you don't, stillnotreadynottherighttime. You want to say you might have lost yourself in her in that moment and each moment after that but there's no doubt in your head that this is something you believe in. You want to say she might not be in a right frame of mind to offer you anything and you are scared it didn't mean anything to her, but you say nothing like that. You stumble over words and she laughs, making fun of you.

You huff and give up on a eloquent speech. You are also frustrated because like always, you are the serious one and you feel somewhere she's running away from the topic. So the words initially comes out a little bit harsh, but you manage. You say exactly what you were thinking, that it was not just a random thing. It was not a mistake either. It means something to you, that this . . . something, between the two of you, is special for you. You think maybe your eyes bore the seriousness. Maybe they did, if her somber yet curious expression is anything to go by.

After a few minutes later it's her who take the beer bottle from you which was untouched saving a few sips, and take you to the room you slept yesterday. She stops just outside of it, kiss your cheek and whisper something in the ear. You miss it.

Later deep in your sleep you feel a word echoing inside of you in her voice. Habibi. It feels foreign and intimate, and you wonder maybe she was not as scared as you are. Maybe you are wrong to think she don't feel anything for you.

You dream of soft skin that tastes like the ocean.

******************************************************************************

"Why are you here?" She asks you on the third day. 

Sun has gone down long ago but the light was still there. Stars has not won yet and sky was a curious mixture of red and orange and blue and black. The day had passed in stolen kisses and lazy limbs in the bed and though, you would have loved to carry on, when she tugged your hand and made you get up, you could not help but follow.

You wonder when it started, her leading you. Then you answer yourself, It has always been. You wonder if it will ever stop, and then hopes Never.

Your right toe was making patterns on sand and her eyes were on you, not letting you escape, and you knew this was it. You were never good with words but felt especially inadequate at this moment. There was a small, insecure part in yourself too, which she always brings out because though she's often diabolical, she has never lied about who she was. More often than not she loathed herself, but you always admired it, the way she owns her victories and mistakes, the way she never skirts around a topic and always speaks her mind, rude or otherwise. Seeing her that much open, often made you scared, because she's someone who had opened up her heart and got hurt the worst way possible, what if it happens to you too? 

What if she's the one who breaks your heart?

But there is no escaping now, so your let go of the last bit of your wall. 

So you tell her. Tell her nothing feels the same without her presence. Tell her this job, which was a way for you to make a difference to the society, feels hollow because somewhere along the way she made it fun. Tell her you keep expecting her, in the corner of interogation room, near Shree's desk, typing in phone ignoring everyone and everything and speaking interrupting whoever it was talking. Tell her you miss her voice, the twinkle in her eyes, the passion for justice, the recklessness to go through to the end of earth. Tell her you miss the constant worry for her well being, the pride at her ideas, the disbelief at her remarks and exasperation at her antics because she is spoiling everyone. Tell her you miss her lack of social ettiquettes, those improper dresses, those side-sweeps, those eye rolls, those glares, those McDs. Tell her you miss her to the point of exhaustion, and even then all you want is Her.

She just looks at you in a different way and you wonder if she feels the same way.

******************************************************************************

She tries to drag you both toward the nightclub which right next to the day Casino you went on the other night to see the stars. You stop and raise an eyebrow at her, because Nightclub and you? She stops too, mimicks you and then leaves your hand.

Then she walks into the nightclub.

So of course you follow. You have noticed her hands in yours make you feel good. Cherished.

You have no idea how she realized you are following her but she grins mischievously over her shoulder like she expected you behind. Like she knew you would come. When everything was different and you didn't know how she felt in your arms you would have rolled your eyes and shake your head. Now you know how she tastes and you would not mind a little bit of PDA in this moment.

You draw the line at dancing but go to the DJ and change the current dancing song to something different, whose rhythm suited the atmosphere but lyrics are closer to your heart than you will ever realize. She's surprised and you feel smug, because that doesn't happen often. She is more when you lead her and then she smiles. Not her usual grin, I-am-upto-something way, a genuine smile which reaches her eyes and makes her cheeks pink. You return it and when she let out a surprised giggle as you twirl her you feel something warm in your chest. 

You know the word, but you are still scared.

You have returned but chose to sat on the sand, on the shore of her penthouse's private beach. She brings two bottles from the barcounter inside, beer for you and on the rocks Scotch for her. It's too strong, you had tried once and had said. She says Ranawats are alike in this way, "If there is 100 Crore deal on one side and imported bottle of Scotch on the other, let's just say there's no choice to make." She had also mentioned her Grandfather dying from Liver scirosis. You grimace and quietly watch her consumption level.

Of course she notices after a while and laughs. She does a lot of that, laughing, throw her head back and let her body shake with the force of it, not holding back anything. She's different, yet she's the same. You like hearing it, you decided. She says it's not pity drinking, or even depression drinking. It's just drinking. You shake your head and carry on with your mission, she notices and chuckles once more.

She talks about the places she travelled, sometime through the private jet of her family, sometime backpacking across countries. She says Train has always been her type, she also says she tortured her Lamborghini very much, it saw things nobody did. You ask how she was able to drive it halfway across the world and she says her Father's Surname is like a Platinum card. The more she says, the absurd it feels, but you know every bit of it is true. You look at her and try to picture it, an Heiress who had the world at her feet, who could have the luxurious life everyone wants, leaving it all and starting over in a new city, making it her home, and then leaving everything when she thought she didn't get justice. You try to picture this penthouse, the comfort and lavish lifestyle, and a dingy lodge somewhere in the West Mumbai. You see this bottle of Scotch which must have cost more than your 10 months of salary and the sweat and blood and danger she chose to have in her life. You try to picture and you can't. Or maybe, you can. She is one of a kind. Amazing like that.

Enchanting.

 She mentions some places you have heard or and some you have not. She mentions about awful food somewhere in Greece which gave her food poisoning, mentions about a breakfast place in countryside Britain which she loved so much that she didn't want to leave. She talked about a motel in Houston which had bugs that kept her up all night, talked how she nearly lost everything when she was backpacking through Karnataka- Tamilnadu border forest but a kind elderly couple helped her. She talked about living on the streeets of Vegas and never leaving her Hotel room in Australia, which was the most expensive suite in the whole country, for the 4 days she was there, only ordering room service. She talks and talks and you feel this might be the first time she's really talking about something, really saying what was in her mind.

You say, "You are different."

She looks down at her feet and answers, her voice too quiet, "Sameer once said to me that I take myself too seriously. To forgive myself. To let go. I was trying, bit by bit. Maybe I can never . . . but at least I can breathe now. Think about the bright spots instead of the darkness."

You want to say nothing was her fault. You want to say there is nothing to forget. You want to say everything that happened, bad, worse of awful, she was the only bright spot you could see or care about. 

Instead you say, "He is an intelligent guy." and bump your shoulder with hers. She smiles a little and nods.

Saturday markets in Goa are unbelievable, you decide. There are chaos everywhere, of the traffic and people and the general noises or vendors. It is similar to Mumbai yet different at the same time. You two walk through vegetable stalls and sea food vendors and reach clothing sections. There's a t shirt which catch your eyes almost immediately with a blue police box like old British ones and a half winking moon and a half peeled banana in a dancing pose. There's a line too - I want a banana and a TARDIS.

You meet her eyes and the unspoken yet joint decision was taken- you two might now know the meaning of TARDIS, but Shree would definitely get it.

She stops by the post office and bought a postcard with the picture of a beach over. She was not being discreet and neither were you trying to pry, yet you noticed what she wrote.

My running stops now.

You wonder when you will understand that.

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One day you wake up and notice the holiday is over for you. There are 3 messages from Sameer and you call Madam Director right after you have taken a shower. She says to come back immediately and you dread for the rest of the day.

In the afternoon, you finally gather a bit of courage, but she's nowhere to be seen. You look for her everywhere and finally find her in inhouse swimming pool. She moves like a dream under the water, like she is a part of it, and it did some things to you. You actually forget what you were trying to say.

The moment she notices you, she stops and swim toward you, her arms over the poolside to keep her afloat. You try to shake every other thought and fail miserably, crouch down and just look at her.

You say it after a few minutes, you have to go back. Saying aloud made it worse, because you know you are nowhere ready to leave. You do not want to leave, period! But you know another thing too, that she fits here. She has finally stopped running and forgiven herself and was trying to have a stability, which she has found here. When you have left Mumbai, a part of you was going to get her back, to bring her home. Now you know this city, this place is her home, so you won't do that.

You have other plans though, if only she wants to see you too. Visit each other whenever you can, you are still in the same country. Keep in touch, be part of your life. Maybe one day when you are ready to settle down, you will leave. Maybe one day you will be strong enough to leave the city and come here. Maybe one day she will be healed enough to open her heart for you and let you in. Maybe it will be a different kind of happily ever after. You say you have to go and think about the plans you have and promise to yourself that you will try 200% from your side. You know there is something, you are almost all in, and she's worth it. You won't be a fool again to let your heart go unnoticed.

She listens to you and look at you softly and asks if you wants her to come. A part of you wants to scream Yes but you don't. Instead you say, "I would have. I wanted to. But it's your decision, whenever you are ready. And I would like to see you, be in your life, in spite of that decision. If you let me."

She kisses you softly in response and it feels like a promise.

Even after the promises you made to yourself, you held her tightly that night. 

Something is poking into your ribs and you try to open your eyes, dreading this is it. Fairytale over. Time to go back to reality. Her mischievous smirk is the first thing you see and unknowningly your heartbeat picks up.

"Get up." She says.

"Why?"

"We are going home." She replies like it's nothing. Like it doesn't matter she's saying 'We' or talking about going back to the place she left all those months ago. Like she's not leaving a life she build here.

She's ready, you notice, and you realize it's for real.

She rolls eyes, "I am outside. Don't go back to sleep." And vanishes from the room in a flash. You look out and notice everything is dark.

Taking a shower and packing the rest of your thing take another ten minutes. She's sitting over the kitchen table as usual, digging her teeth on a half-eaten apple and you wonder when will be the next time you see her so relaxed, so at ease. She motions to a plate and you see there's breakfast for you, like you prefer. You don't even try to hide the smile that appears.

She talks about roadtrips and directions and time frame and this time you are the one who ask Why. Why come back? Why leave here? Why come back with you?

"Why, are you a bad co-passenger?" She says in her usual levity. You don't remove your gaze from hers even though you are eating and she sighs.

"Time to go home, I guess."

You try to find remorse in those words, a forced cheerfulness. There's none, but determination. You wonder if you are pressurizing, then shake your head at yourself. None have the power to pressurize her into anything she do not want to.

"Are you sure?" You still want to confirm. She nods.

"We both know one day I will be bored by this tranquil life and run back. I am just not waiting for that day to arrive and going back now." Pausing, she adds with mock-seriousness, "Also, why wait? Aisha might hire someone to replace me and I might be out of job by now."

You could not help but snort. Replacing her didn't even cross anyone's mind. Hell, her chair is still untouched back in the office, you think.

But you don't say anything of it.

She drives and her hair is already messed up and Sun is rising by the time you start moving, it's soft glow falling on her light brown skin. You feel it's not because of Sun, it's her natural glow, the self healing she did to herself which is making her look so peaceful, well rested. You think about the city and all that happened and the possible future waiting for you two and think how long it will take for that glow to disappear.

You pray to whoever power was up there to not let it happen.

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It's astonishing that even after knowing someone so much, still many things stay hidden or unknown.

You will know a thing or two about knowing-yet-quite-not-knowing a person, everything inexplicable and different happened right after She entered your life. An outsider would say after spending so much time together in the last 5 days you are the closest person to her, who knows her inside out.

Turns out, you don't.

You can never really claim that title, because even though you are always hungry for more, you never really pushed her to tell you something. The times you did, it never turned out right. There are parts in her life she keeps hidden, like they are abomination, and you are always cautious around those walls, because they are laid with thorns which hurts her more than anything. You can't even bear thinking about hurting her.

But the bits and pieces you came to know about her in these days, even now, as you drove toward Mumbai, are precious to you. You are very sure you will always remember them.

Like the way she drives, too fast and too swift at the same time cautious. The car moves like a dream, even though the speedometer limit is quite scary but you try to keep full faith on her. You remember once, a long time ago, she drove Sameer to the ETF after solving a case and your Best friend was not quite same after that. You think it might not be everyone's cup of tea, this flavor of hers.

You also come to know her choice in songs. You know her days of partying and think she will be into new age catchy songs, but she surprises you. Rap and 80s English songs, an impressive collection of country songs and Billy Joel. Songs which feels like a new day after long rain, the smell of wet earth and fresh air that comes out of Forest. The volume is so much up that either you will be deaf afterwards or the lyrics will be writ on your skin. Some exotic ones in different language and when you ask which is it, she just smirks. Another mystery.

You come to know even after wiping the McD cups before taking a sip and an obsession with clean clothes, she can be quite flexible when the time demands. You remember the times she stayed in office for paper work and her cubicle looked like Hurricane had grace it with it's presence, and you see her now, no regard for cleanliness as you two eat in a roadside hotel. She just cleans the spoon with a tissue which she carries like a second skin and looks over if their plates are cleaned properly before serving, that's it. You smirk and she rolls eyes, saying if she was so hell bent on hygiene she would have been a lot more hungry during See-the-world trip of hers.

You look at her curling in impossible angles as you drive, her eyes always on you and never on the road. It's unnerving, to be on the other side of her gaze which her Granny once called 'Figure it out' look, which apparently, you have too. You try to understand why she is looking at you like that, what's so different, what's so special, but you don't.

You keep on driving.

You also notice she never shuts her eyes or look even a bit of tired. When you ask if she's sleepy she merely says she doesn't sleep. 

"Ninjas are owls too." She smirks, adjusting her neck so that she can look at you properly. You frown, not getting the reply, but do not ask more. 

Hours later, you figure, you open your eyes from a mini slumber and feel the car's not moving. You sit up, groggily, and notice her fingers clenched around the steering wheel, her eyes outside. You look out and notice an old 'Welcome to Bombay' sign board which was never corrected. The green background has faded and the post looks like it won't see another second, yet somehow it still stands, like the city which stands no matter what it goes through.

Like the person who's sitting beside you.

Your fingers are over hers without thinking but you think a lot before saying anything. You don't have to do this. Nobody is forcing you. If you are not ready yet maybe we could . . . She speaks up and those voices are quiet suddenly.

"A decade ago, when I left Hydrabad and came here, there was this big sign board just outside VT near the taxis. There was no taxi stand when I came, and VT didn't used to look like a carnival those days." She laughed, and you remembed those days in your city, less crowded, less unfamiliar faces, less chaos, less traffic, "It read Welcome to Bombay and someone tried to correct it to Mumbai, a bunch of black lines over it and Mumbai was barely there, under Bombay. I read it and stood there and felt it was significant. Like whatever that was coming, will be a great adventure. Better than I had hoped, way different than what I had left behind."

And she looked at you and smirked, "I had quite a journey, don't you think?"

You mimic her smirk and then she gently remove her hand from yours, pushing the car to full gear and drove past the signboard.