Just a short scene for you all. I'm slowly building up towards some proper SanRaj scenes. It would be unrealistic to have them all loved up so soon!!
15th February - Two Can Play That Game
Sometime later DM retuns home. No one is around and he quietly makes his way up to his room. Entering it, he removes the shawl from his shoulders and sinks into his chair.
He takes a deep breath and sighs. It is only then that he sees the picture of himself. His eyes slowly scan to the floor where the torn remains of the haar now lies.
He gets up and walks towards it. Picking up the broken pieces in his hand, he gives a small, almost silent grunt. He knows perfectly well who's handiwork this is.
Dumping the now useless haar into the waste bin he opens the drawer of his table and pulls out another. Walking over to the picture he once again adorns it with the new haar.
There was a tremor somewhere deep within him. He took a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table. Why did his mouth feel so dry? Perhaps he had done too much walking tonight. He lifted his legs upon the bed and lay back. Presently he fell into a deep slumber.
The early morning rays of the sun hit his face and startled him out of his sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up in bed and swung his legs over the edge. He had slept so well, that he hadn't realised it was so late. He couldn't remember when he had last had such a good nights sleep.
In her room, Santu was already awake and sitting on the edge of her bed contemplating what to do. She had stormed into the house. She had asserted her right to be here. She had crossed words with people.
But what did she do now? There seemed to be so many things that had gone wrong with and within the family that the task of righting all these wrongs seemed almost impossible. Where did she start?
Sighing, and possibly against her better judgement, she decided to start with the one thing that would be the foundation for everything else. She walked out of her room and headed down the corridor. When she arrived at DM's door she knocked and waited. There was no answer. She knocked again. Still nothing.
Was malik really out of his room, or merely ignoring her presence at his door? She took a deep breath and swung the door open ready for whatever confrontation came her way. Much to her chagrin, the room was empty. He had left the house already it seemed. Where to? was anyones guess.
As she was about to leave again, her eyes fell on the waste bin near the door. She saw the haar. She looked up his picture and was stunned to see that it was once again adorned with a haar. A frisson of anger shot through her. She walked over to it and once again tore the haar down. She let it fall to the floor and walked back out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her.
Vasudha
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