FADED#7
A pathetic excuse for not caring for someone is to fall out in love, because, you never fall out, when you have already fallen. That's just not wrong English, but a wrong emotion as well.
Shravan saw green, red, and yellow chandeliers across the ceiling. The blue DJ stage hummed across the great hall of the 'pub' his friend has bought him in. 'What kind of a place is this? I thought that you would find something decent.' Shravan was already irked, along with a headache. 'It's a cultural pub. What's wrong here? People are eating, dancing....' Bassi revolved around clearly excited. 'And drinking.' Shravan had a straight face. He could barely stand loud voices, a clear and strange metamorphosis from what he used to be as a teenager. 'Don't spoil the mood Major.' Bassi was clearly ignorant of his discomfort. He thought that Shravan was just being snooty. Shravan sighed seeing the happiness his friend found in this place. If something hadn't changed over the years, then it was his devotion to the people he truly cared about. So he just let his annoyance take a back seat as he sat for a drink.
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Suman stood outside the avenue, Vikram had messaged her. She had a clear disinterest in the pub she stood in front of. She has worn a saree for god's sake. She had thought of enjoying her own silence at a decent restaurant, with sleepy music in the background. And now here she stands. She had worn a blush-colored saree with a light golden border. She had taken some wooden earrings, the dullest she could choose to depress Vikram, however, her Aunt thought that it was the best she could ever get ready. With a great huff, she moved inside, annoyed by the fact that her date was already 15 minutes late. That made her resolve to reject him even stronger.
She was greeted with yellow, green, and red chandeliers and a noisy DJ, and she again cursed her decision to come, under her breath. 'Vikram Raichand?' she asked the receptionist with modesty before she was guided to an empty table. She ordered a glass of water and then just sat around fiddling with her frizzy hair. She looked around, people eating, chattering and laughing, some drank on the counter and others danced. They were all cheery compared to her gloominess. She looked that she may perform some old ghazal if given a mike, which might make people cry on the drop of their hats. So she thought of visiting the washroom seeing no sign of Vikram.
Suman looked at her frizzled hair and thought of looking better than what she had made of herself. She pulled out a dangling hair tier, she had specifically shopped. She tied her hair in a loose bun, letting some strands fall off and the hair tier making a jingling voice as she turned or moved. She gave an attempt to call and reach out to Vikram who had disappeared magically. She doubted that he might have had an alien encounter, not that she would be pleased with any such news, but for the time being she had no grudges if it really did happen.
Looking for 5 minutes straight into nothingness Suman decided to have a drink as well. She moved towards the bar counter and saw a familiar male figure sitting across it slipping whiskey as some sweet torture. No, it wasn't Vikram, but Shravan. Major Shravan Malhotra.
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Shravan was stranded alone in the middle of a 'cultural pub' with his friend Bassi finding his girl. First, he was astonished and then just plain happy that at least his friend was having some good time. Seeing people have fun, wasn't really easy when your own life was a deserted island. Just when he could think of more dark jokes to displease himself, he found someone slipping in the adjacent cubicle. The scent smelt of something he had already identified late in the afternoon.
'Major!' Suman squealed as she adjusted her saree. Shravan's jaws dropped looking at the aethism Suman Tiwari had just added. Her blush-colored saree, with her wheatish golden skin, looked like dropping from heaven. He looked around if somebody recognized his hysteric change of expression, if somebody thought he was a fool.
Shravan stared at her, but Suman didn't care much. He won't suspend her for anything she would do beyond the boundaries of there Cantt. She rather flashed a smile and looked forward to a drinking adventure. 'One Vodka shot please.' She sweetly demanded making Shravan take a gulp harder of his pending whiskey. 'Captain...' as Shravan decided to intervene and tell her that she should avoid heavy liquor, Suman had already gulped it down. 'One more.' she demanded. With this she turned around and looked so happy of nothingness 'Suman, call me Suman. I am off duty, its an off night!' She stretched her palms. Shravan just wondered if she had ever drunk, because it felt as if with just one shot and the smell of liquor floating around she was intoxicated.
At the third drink, Shravan glared hard at the waiter. He shook his head in a slight no. The waiter did as instructed but then Suman opened with her wrath 'Hey waiter? What's the matter? Am I not paying you? Bring it on....' She danced with her every word. The waiter finally complied as Shravan slapped his forehead.
'Suman..' he pestered, shaking her wrist as she could barely keep her eyes open. Her fifth drink was halfway round when she was almost dragging Shravan towards the dance floor and Shravan had abandoned all his business and was concentrating on escaping the public eye. 'Let's leave, Suman. You aren't fine.' Shravan was up on his toes, and Suman flashed a toothy grin with her half drooping eyes. 'Just one more Shravu!' She laughed hysterically. Shravan froze at his place, measuring the nickname he has been awarded. His ears turned pink, similar to Suman's cheek. At this, for a moment he really forgot about how they would leave without making a joke of themselves, rather concentrated on the tired beauty Suman dripped off. She was a nearly sweaty, and vodka stayed shiny on her still wet lips. She meddled with her wooden earrings. She looked like the princess he had imagined in his dreams. She was the same girl.
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Shravan packed Suman in his car, dragging her out of the pub was as difficult as ripping off a terrorist nexus. As he switched into the ignition, he found Suman looking staring at her mobile screen. 'Anything left?' Shravan asked her. ' No, he didn't just come. I wanted to tell him something.' Suman wobbled. 'Who?' Shravan pulled up his defenses. He could feel his spine stiffen on somebody's mention. 'Vikram. Vikram, you don't know him Shravu?' She pulled up his cheeks, laughing, and then with Shravan's nudge, she settled with a finger on her lips. Looking at her Shravan thought that even if he knocks her out she would probably forget it by tomorrow. So what's better than investigating some more details out of her. It wasn't ethical, but Suman Tiwari was also interfering in his personal space for a few days now. 'I would take you to my house, is it fine with you? You better not go back to your own in this condition.' he announced and it didn't take a minute longer for her to agree. He lived alone in Ambala, it won't be a big problem.
As Shravan dragged Suman, as she could barely stand lest walk, he happened to take forward the leftover conversation. 'Whose Vikram Suman?'
'Vikram. He is a lawyer.' She innocently blurted. And then she again pulled his cheeks. 'But he isn't a Major. Major Shravan Malhotra!!' She teased him, and Shravan couldn't help but pass a smile. 'My Aunt wants me to marry him. But, but I don't love him.' with this she figuratively passed out. And Shravan couldn't help but nod. He felt an eerie happiness crawl inside his veins.
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He left her on the lounger, as he moved ahead for a change. He looked up for a night suite, two buttons of his shirt already open mid way when he heard a clattering voice from the hall. Suman stood rooted to her spot, looking guilty of breaking a showpiece.
'Holy cow.' Shravan bent down to take over the piece of a glass horse he had bought. 'I hope its fine Shravu...' Suman was taking it too easy before she felt looking through all those medals and trophies he had won in his badminton tournaments. It felt like being thrown 7 years back in a single moment. And then there was a photograph, of his seventeen-year-old self, back when they were in the Army school, she was clearly cut from the ends. She imagined each memory as the grain of sand that the pearl grew around: a hard, protective shell to keep it from drifting away. She understood his intentions so well, that she felt like crying shamelessly on the same spot.
See how much you could hurt me Shravan. She thought.
'You should just sit, leave them aside.' Shravan couldn't muster the courage to tear her away from the shelf that somewhere had her memories intact as well. She had once touched them all, 7 years ago and now the pattern was repeating itself. It was the last thing he wanted her to do.
'Okay.' Suman agreed but she didn't leave. Rather she moved towards him, his chest bare for an inch. She came too close for his stomach to not make a somersault. His heart was going out of his rib cage, and he couldn't help but follow her gaze.
She kept her hands over his shirt, her fingers touching his bare chest. 'Have I told you that I love you Shravan?' She asked, looking like all her intoxications zeroed down to some heavy words.
Shravan clenched his jaws at her touch. How much he wanted to pull her away. How much he wanted to kiss her senseless. Funny how the brain works. The next thing he did had no control of his. He shook his head no in an answer. She spilled a tear. 'You are the only man I have ever given my heart to Shravan, you forgot to return before you went so, so, far away. What should I do?' her earnest words were making Shravan lose his resolve. It won't be easy to not run his hands all over her. She was looking so light, that he feared she might vanish.
And then the next moment he could feel Suman Tiwari kiss his clenched jaw.
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Part8 page 9
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
Cricket
