Chapter 2

Drabble #3: Adler is only Holmes'

It is the day of Randhir's parents' divorce trial. I asked him about it yesterday and as expected, he asked me to steer clear of the court and him. Does he really think I pay any heed to what he says? I asked him the question yesterday only to know what was on his mind and I got what I did not want at all. Indifference. Sheer abandon for his parents. How was I to leave him alone in a court full of people that were constantly coercing him to side with one of his parents? There is no plausible reason for my going; I just know that I have to go. I don't know why, but I do.

I disguised myself as an elite socialite who could pass off as one of Renuka Sanyal's associates. I wore a white knee-length dress, stockings, black-heeled shoes and a royal blue felt hat. The ensemble would help me bear New Delhi's harsh winter winds and also remain concealed in the crowd. I was absolutely confident that Randhir wouldn't be able to find me in the crowd because I am seated right next to the door, far from his prying eyes. I think, even though he asked me not to come, he wants me here. That is the only reason his eyes are scanning the room, as if searching for divine water for his parched throat.

As if he has found the mouth of a metaphorical river, he seats himself on his assigned chair. How I want to leap towards him, knock the air out of his lungs in a bone-crushing hug and tell him that it will be okay, my legs feel like jelly and I cannot move. My mind has no care for his rejections of my presence in this court, but my heart doesn't want to hurt him, so I sit glued to my chair. My heart is diabolical. It wants my presence to be acknowledged in this court by him, and yet it doesn't. Whatever am I going to do with it?

The court proceedings begin as the case summary is read out. The respective advocates are asked to present their arguments after which is Randhir's time to make his statement. He rises from his seat that is in the middle of the two tables of the estranged parties. He steps onto a witness box, looks at his feet for a moment, then looks up and begins to speak as our breaths visibly race each other's, unaware of a finish line.

Only he knows the kind of strength that one must muster to speak about which parent one wishes to stay with. Only he knows the fortitude one must possess while choosing a parent over the other.

Randhir is strong and courageous, therefore he chooses neither of his parents. He is a legal adult and can make his own decisions, he explains as tears trickle down his cheeks ceaselessly. His parents and their attorneys stare at him with their mouths agape, while he silently takes his seat and waits for the judge to make his ruling. There is a profound weakness in my knees, an uncontrollable fluttering in my stomach, ceaseless pounding in my heart and a blinding daze in my head, and yet I sit. The judge rules that the divorce is granted and Randhir's custody is awarded to neither of the parties.

Before anybody moves, Randhir is standing and making headway for the door. He stops right next to where I sit, looks forward and holds out his hand. When I ignore it, he takes my arm into his and walks us out of the door.

How does he know it is I without even looking? Even while he was scanning the courtroom, he never rested his eyes upon me even once.

He shuts the door behind us and hugs me till my lungs can't breathe. I hug him back with all the love and strength I can gather and we stand there for minutes that feel like milliseconds, slipping through our fingers. He breaks the hug and I wipe the tears off his face.

"Trying to pull off a Sherlock, are we?" he asks, marking the return of his smirk, albeit an out and out adorable one this time. I smile and nod like a schoolgirl, stroking my fingers over the contours of his face.

"I am the Sherlock Holmes in our story and that way, you would be Irene Adler, trying to pull off my tricks and doing things I ask you not to do. Remember, farzi, Adler is only and only Holmes'. They are both fire. Do you know what happens when fire meets fire?" he asks.

The only answer I can give him is to take his face in my hands and plant an unspoken, unexpected kiss on his forehead. And that is just what I do.

He smiles. I smile.

Evermore & Always,

Rini & Arushi