Work-in-Progress

                                                                      Work-in-Progress

Aryan Singh Rathore sat in his couch, not-so-discreetly staring at his object of interest. Who is his object of interest you ask? Imlie, of course. Imlie who was sitting on the floor, her laptop and notebooks placed on the coffee table between them. Her textbooks were littered all around her, pages highlighted with various colours. 

This was their new normal as the pandemic's new wave set in. Her classes have been shifted online and his office to 'work from home'. Aryan would punch someone if they said to his face that he was enjoying this set up. To their luck and probably his too, his heart and conscience weren't punchable beings. 

So yes, he'd be lying to himself if he said that he didn't enjoy this.

Ever since Imlie's internship ended 6 weeks ago, the only time he got to see her was at the breakfast table. If not for his sister's strict rule of "One meal together for the family" he wouldn't have gotten that chance as well. Though it was a near miss when Imlie protested saying that she wasn't family, but his sister's sharp glare shut her up. Aryan would've thrown a punch in the air at that, if not for propriety. And if not for the fear that Imlie might give him a new nickname. It's been 5 months since he met her for the first time and he lost count of the names she calls him. He can swear all his net worth that a few of them were not even in Hindi or English.

Their encounters could be counted on fingers in the early days of her college reopening. She no longer accompanied him to work as her internship ended. According to his sister, she used public transport. He sorely missed her very visible presence in the office and in the car as well. First five minutes of his meetings were spent to getting used to her absence. It was this startling realisation that made him avoid her at the breakfast table in the name of early meetings. He preferred eating at his office and would've kept the ruse up, if not for the Pandemic. The country was locked down 2 weeks ago and both of them were confined to home. 

And in one of such locked days, began this routine of silent companionship. It didn't start this way though. Imlie sat in her place and he, in his study. Until one day or rather night, he walked out to his room for a file and found her working. His footsteps inadvertently brought him the next night to the couch along with his laptop. The night after that, the night after the-night-after and so on, until one day he decided to shift his whole set up to the couch. She was silent all through the process, never once questioning him. Never once speaking to him. Yet she provided the most audible company.

He was the one that broke their silence. Asking her why she was sitting on the floor. She shrugged off. He repeated the same question the next day, only to be shrugged off again. He went to extent of claiming the ownership of his house to make her sit on the couch, until she dumped her tower of books in his lap and asked him if he would hold them open as she studied, because the couch wasn't big enough for the same. He preferred silence after that.

Aryan was brought back from his trip to the near past by the sudden "yes!!" of Imlie. Looks like she found the answer for the quiz she was answering online along with her newly found best friends. Some, to his very baffling displeasure, were boys. He struggled with a new flushed feeling that set his veins on fire every time he heard her sitting on a zoom call with her friends, laughing. He rationalised in the right way later on that it was her life and he had no right to judge her acquaintances. He was still fighting the fire though.

He stared at the big, bright grin on her face. She looked carefree, happy and light, even as she gave her exam. Her brows furrowed once again, indicating her work on a new question and Aryan nearly cooed at the cute sight she made, but his "khadoos" image (her words) stopped him. Her hand reached to tuck the fluttering strands of hair behind her eye and Aryan thanked all the gods above for that. Disaster was averted and the dangerous itch in his fingers to do that work himself subsided. He still felt a tinge of disappointment somewhere in the corner of his locked heart. 

Aryan saw her pick up a text book from her side and keenly run her finger along the highlighted lines after turning pages. Aryan grinned to himself at the sight of her book. Imlie was unique, yes. But it looked like even she was a prey to the "excessive highlighting syndrome" Her book looked like a rainbow. He found himself frowning at the sudden frown on her face. She turned pages one after the other, this time picking her notes as well. Her frown gre bigger as she put that text book down and picked up a new one. Her eyes turned steely and determined as she went through those tomes, pouring all her concentration in finding the answer to the question plaguing her.

It was after 5 minutes, 1 new book and 2 calls later that the frown finally dissolved and a grin took its place. And just like that Aryan's frown vanished as well. It was under this light that Aryan saw a new Imlie everyday as they silently worked together, the only sound being coffee slurps, pen scratches and keys on the laptops.

A new Imlie, who was just Imlie. Not someone's wife, daughter-in-law, half-sister or sister-in-law. She was Imlie, the young adult who ran towards her dreams. An Imlie, whose purpose was to fly high and make a place among the stars. Imlie, who was shedding layers of her past and evolving into a person, whose worry of the day was how to get that extra 0.5 in the exams. Imlie, whose worry for tomorrow was if she had enough time to finish her assignments.

She was Imlie - a Phoenix reborn from the ashes of her tears and growing.

She was growing, she was evolving, she was building and she was walking ahead. Imlie was a work-in-progress.

And along with her, he was a work-in-progress as well.

So was their equation from his side. Something he was more than happy to accept and wait until the other side of the equation changed. 

Life, after all, took time and work-in-progress was not a bad status quo.

Fin.