Sorry for the lateness, Deepti I really hope it's up to the mark 😆
Chapter 8: Realizations Run. Run.Run.
That's the only thing he kept repeating to himself, like a prayer, as he runs into the puddles, not caring about the mud splashing around him, not caring about the rain trickling down his face, not caring about the soreness of his muscles.
This is what he had done all his life. Run. Run to someone. Run away from someone, from himself. When he would wake up in the middle of the night, her thoughts, his mother's thoughts plaguing his mind, this is what he would do, run. Run till he couldn't breathe, run till he couldn't feel his legs supporting him. This was the only thing that kept him sane all these years.
Nothing could stop him.
The wind blew harder and harder as if testing him, defying him to show his limits, making it difficult for him to keep up the pace, but it didn't stop him. He kept running, proving to himself once again that he was above all of this.
Sometimes he would cry, wail. Sometimes he would scream to her, to every person in the universe who had wronged him. In the darkness of the night, he didn't have to keep up the facade, he didn't have to smile at people, he didn't have to look in control, and he could finally show his ugly side, the one no one has the guts to see.
He could finally utter those venom filled words even though they were going to disappear once the rain had done the cleansing. This was his cleansing. Tonight, he could hate and no one would say a word. He could destroy himself and no one would ever know, because once the sun arises everything becomes beautiful alas they don't know that while they are drowning into their world of dreams, men are killed and monsters are created.
His feet gave back as he slowed down his pace, taking a breath. His heart threatened to come out of his chest and his breathing was ragged. He looked at where his feet had led him.
It was always about her.
He had come in the afternoon, few moments after he saw her pull out of the driveway - the advantage of being neighbors. His feet had a mind on his own, as he came to stand in front of her office. As he looked at the facade, he remembered how fondly she talked about her PCT, how heartbroken she was when she thought he, her best friend had snatched her dream away from her. He also remembered the day he had insulted her and the guilt that came with it.
So he just stood infront of the building, gazing at the board which held her mother's name. The girl who didn't do much in school, who depended on him for every exam, had made a name for herself. Proud. That's what he felt, when he looked at the woman she had grown into, his heart swelled with pride. But he never said that to her.
He was about to go back, when Preeta in her usual jolly nature came and greeted him. She suggested him to come inside, but his feet staggered, he couldn't get himself to go inside, it just didn't feel right, without her.
Preeta stood besides him and they both kept looking at the board. He could never forget the way she sighed and the words which left her mouth, next. That's how he got to know how much she had to struggle, in the initial days, he could imagine her running here and there, no one by her side. She decided to abandon her studies, not wanting to be a burden on anyone. He realized how she had gone out of her way to get a place, how she had prepared all the food, done all the deliveries on her own for the first couple of weeks. She struggled but never once gave up.
He couldn't help but pay attention to that nagging voice in the back of his head, a constant reminder of the fact that he wasn't there with her. He wasn't there when she needed a hand to pick the board with her, he wasn't there when she was scared and unsure, he wasn't there to hold her hand and tell her that he had her back, he wasn't there when she got her first order. He was never there and he realized that he had also failed as her best friend, many times.
The drops trickled down his face like daggers, the water icy cold against his skin, a contrast to his tears - which were warm and in that moment standing alone, in the night, drenched head to toe, Shravan Malhotra wondered if love was supposed to be this complicated, this overwhelming or was it just them and everything that had happened to them. He wondered why it didn't came like a warning, why was it as calm as dead.
If someone had warned him, he would have never walked down that corridor. He would have never came back from London. He would have never looked back.
Loving someone was like giving a part of yourself, cutting yourself into two halves, knowing that once given, it could never be yours, again.
"I wish I could hate you Sumo." He whispered to himself, his lips set in a tight line. He looked up at the sky, a drop of rain, flicked into his eye, making it close on instinct.
"Aa naa kya sadu ban ke khara hai!" He closed his eyes, smiling. He could hear her giggling as she jumps into the puddle, ruining her dress, but she didn't care, she was as carefree as the wind. He looked at her from afar, knowing that she was too farfetched for him. She was a star in the sky and he was just a mere spectator, he could only admire her shining, from a distance.
She loves the rain, always has. He knows it, they spent their childhood, getting drenched and sharing kulfis. Now, they just enjoy from afar, she simply sips on her cup of chai and enjoys the greenery. He feels that there is another kind of scenerity to it and he didn't miss the fact that she keeps the window open, when monsoon arrives. She knows how much he loves the scent of the mud after it rains.
In London, it was one of the various things that reminded him of home, of her.
His heavy steps caressed the road, as he continued his route.
"I was asked to choose between my family and you."
"Tum meri jagha pe hote to kya karte?"
He could still hear the tears in her voice. He asked himself what would you do Shravan Malhotra ?
Sure, he would have never ignored her the way she did, he would have probably gone back to London. He would have lost it, if he had to make her feel the way she did.
So how were they any different ?
A pebble came his way and he tossed it around, with the help of his foot. She was like that big sum, he had to resolve, but it kept messing with his head.
He walked till the door, he knew, would have all the answers to his queries. His feet seemed to have forgotten the way to this room, whereas there was a time, he used to come here, first thing in the morning. The knock was small, almost timid. Hesitance of a child could be heard in it. Nobody answered, he figured out that he was most probably asleep by now, which was surprising - as his father was what you would call a night owl.
He was about to trek up the stairs, when the door opened with a clanck. His father's face lit up with a smile when he saw him in front of him. He returned the smile with a small nod of his head, but was careful not to meet his gaze.
"Shravan." He called out.
"Please, aao na andar." He opened the door wider, letting him enter into it.
He walked into the room, silently and his eyes fell on the spot, on their spot. The very room, where he had bared his heart open to his father.Ramnath's eyes followed his son's and he sighed sadly.
"Betho gaye nahi ?" He asked in hope that he would atleast sit and give him the time to properly look at him.
"No, I am good." He said with a shrug.
A glance at him and he could tell that something was bothering him, he was wearing sports clotches and was drenched - he deduced that he went for a run, he was prone to running when frustrated. He filled a glass of water and gave it to him, before sitting down on his chair. Shravan looked here and there, he had a whole conversation planned out, but now that he was here, he couldn't get himself to ask. There were too many memories in this room and he wondered which ones were real and which ones were a made up masquerade.
He kept playing with the rim of the glass, the only audible sound in the room apart from his regular breathing.
"Pareshan lag rahe ho ? Sab kuch theek to hai ?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. Shravan finally dared to look at him and he didn't like what he saw. His father seemed to slump down into the sofa, he looked small, and nothing like the towering man he used to bow down in front of. He looked tired, his face had lost all the warmth and he wondered where was the man, who gave him his thumb and made him learn to walk.
"Nahi, I just couldn't sleep." He admitted. His father looked back at him.
"Wajah ?" He asked, a frown on his face.
"Kuch pooch na hai mujhe aapse." He looked at him straight in the eyes and it hurt, because he realized how far he stood from his own father.
"Pucho." His voice was soft and he knew that he had his full attention, from the way he had immediately straightened himself and the way his hands were crossed over his stomach. Nostalgia hit him as he observed the man in front of him and he had to look away for a moment because he felt his walls crumbling and the urge to sit next to him and let him caress the back of his head as he did in the past. He was the only one who understood his need to talk.
"Aapko yaad hai, jis din main aapke paas aaya tha, aapse apni wo..."
"Suman ke baare main batane ke liye." He finished the sentence, it felt like another life time.
"Haan." There was a moment of silence in the room.
"Agar aapne mujhe uss din mana kar diya hota, to kya aapko lagta hai ke main aapki baat manta, nahi milta usse, bhul jaata." He needed to know.
He smiled at the question. "Tumhe kya lagta hai ?"
He let out a soft chuckle."Pata hota to aapse nahi pooch tha."
"Ye bhi sach hai." He nodded his head.
Ramnath let out a deep breath. "Tumhe yaad jab tum mere paas aaye the mene tumse pucha tha, ke kya Suman bhi tumse pyaar karti hai. Uss din tumne mujhe bohot confidence se kaha tha ke bhale hi uss ne kabhi kaha nahi, lekin tum jaante the."
"Ab unn baton ka koi matlab nahi hai." He answered, biting the inside of his cheek.
"Meri baat abhi khatam nahi huwi, hear me out." He emphasized on the last words.
"Phir main Suman se milne gaya, usse check diya, ye soch kar ke wo lelegi. Lekin uss ne mana kardiya aur mujhse kehke gayi ke tum khudh uss ke paas aao ge, bharosa tha usse tum par, tumhare rishte par." The words were spoken in a hushed yet firm tone.
"Jaante ho tum dono ke rishte ki sab se khaas baat kya hai. Ke tum dono bilkul ek doosre ki tarah ho. Tum dono ko hamesha ek dusre ke pyaar par yakeen tha. Lekin tum dono ne hamesha aapni families ko apne upar rakha hai. To tumhare sawal ka jawab haan hai Shravan, maan lete meri baat theek ussi tarah se jaise uss ne meri baat maani aapni family ke liye."
He looked up at the word pyaar' and he wondered if those feelings were still present. His insides churned as he realized, that they were the same, the two sides of the same coin.
"Pyaar." He smiled sadly, his jaw tense and his eyes unblinking, staring at the opposite wall.
"Kya huwa kya tumhe uss pyaar par bharosa nahi raha ?" He didn't know what to say, he wasn't sure of anything at the moment.
"Tum to samajh te the usse, tumhi ne mujhse kahan the ke wo independent hai, ziddi hai lekin tumhe kabhi chod nahi sakti, hamesha tumhare saath khari rahegi. Tum to jaante ho usse" He shifted on his feet, the words suffocating him.
"Main nahi jaanta usse, mujhe lagta tha ke mujhse accha koi aur nahi jaanta usse, but she proved me wrong. Mujhe batana bhi zaroori nahi samjha." It hurt him to utter these words aloud, the flaws in their relationship were crystal clear.
"Maan lo, wo tumse ye sab kehti, to tum maan the uski baat ?" He asked, his eyes searching for his.
"Shayad nahi, par wo koshish to karsakti thi na. Ek baar." The last words were a mere whisper and Ramnath felt his heart breaking, seeing the state of his son.
"Shravan, meri ghaltiyon ki sazaa, usse na do, please." He pleaded.
"Main kisi ko sazaa nahi de raha." He snapped back. His eyes closed tight in frustration, his head shaking side to side. "I should go." He strode back towards the door, his hand came to rest against the door's handle, when his voice stopped him.
"Shravan... Aapna khyaal rakhna." He didn't say anything, just left the room like a gust of wind, leaving the man, to another sleepless night. He trekked up the stairs, slowly pushing the door, checking if she was in it. He went into the room and glanced at the clock, it was past midnight. He bit his bottom lip in anticipation. She was going to kill him, he had been out all evening and he came back all drenched. On a second thought, why would she even care ?
He took out his wet t-shirt and threw it into the laundry hamper. He flexed his sore muscles and processed to go to the bathroom, his hand was almost on the handle, when the door opened with a jerk and he collided with her.
Her hands went directly to rest against his taut shoulders as he slightly caressed her waist. Her lips parted in shock, as she realized their position. This was the first time, they were this close to each other, she could feel his breathing tickling her bangs. His skin was soft and warm, nothing like it looked like.
They parted away but their hands still lingered on the other. Her cold fingertips trailed along the length of his arm unconsciously, he gulped hard at the action and he couldn't get himself to lower his gaze, not when she was this close, not when her scent seemed to linger around him.
She left the room in a haste, breathing heavily.
"Shit." He cursed under his breath, he had completely forgotten that there was now a girl into his room and he had to behave. Suman Malhotra was attracted to him - her flushed face, her downcast eyes said it all.
When he came back to the room, she was already sleeping on her side of the bed. There was a tray on his side table, a bol of steaming soup and a hot bag water. He rose himself with the help of his hands, to check on her, but she seemed to be in a deep slumber.
He leaned against the heardboard and listened to her soft breathing and closed his own eyes. He was glad she came back to sleep on the bed, he didn't like how empty and big it felt without her, although she just slept in a corner and it was not like they cuddled or anything apart from the few times he had wrapped his arms around her. He wished he could do that again.
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They were invited to Tiwari Killa to share their last dinner with the family as in less than a week the Tiwari Clan would be finally flying to the states, including Nanaji. He kept glancing at his watch every five minutes. She was late, again. Some habits die hard. Everyone were slowly but surely getting ready. He was waiting for her to come downstairs. Puskar, Preeti and him would be going in the same car.
"Sorry, sorry." She came downstairs with small steps, wearing an earring, her golden gown reaching the floor. As she walked towards him, he couldn't help but notice the almond shape of her eyes which were accentuated by the thin line of kohl she was wearing, her full lips were tainted red, a welcoming change from the usual.
She had her hair up in a loose bun and he itched to undo it, just to see if the black cascades fell into beautiful waves.
His feet had a mind of their own as he came to stand in front of the staircase.
He felt like an awestruck teenager, to him she never looked more beautiful. A couple of stairs were left when he gave her his hand, to descend the rest of it. She looked down at him, taken aback by his gesture and the look in his eyes as if it was the first time he was seeing her.
Everyone were looking at them with shy glances and knowing smiles. She hesitantly slid her hand into his as he helped her to get down the stairs one by one. She expected him to withdraw his hand the moment they had reached the last stair, but he surprised her by tightening his hold onto her small hand and it reminded her of a different time, when he wasn't ready to let her go.
"Waise Bhaiya ab aap Sumo ka haath chod sakte hain, wo niche aagayi hai, sahi salamat." He stifled a laugh and his comment earned him a whack from Preeti.
He freed his hand on impulse and her hand was in the air for a moment before it limply fell on her side. She was disappointed to say the least, his hand felt warm against hers and he had snatched it from her.
They walked in silence till the car. The ride to Tiwari Killa what would we call interesting.
She smiled at them from the rear view mirror. They looked so happy and in love. Preeti and Pushkar. Like right now, Preeti had kept her head on his shoulder and he was busy playing with her hair and sometimes they would giggle and whisper to each other. They looked like a real married couple, nothing like them. She couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart at the thought, as she looked at him from the corner of the eyes.
That's what she had wanted for them. A simple and happy life. How many times she had imagined them like this, she always imagined their lives to be very easy and sorted, because both of them knew each other, after all they were best friends, although sometimes it felt like she was sharing a life with a stranger.
He could sense her staring at him but he didn't look back. He could tell that she was affected by his brother's public display of affection with the way she was biting the inside of her cheek.
It was funny how two people who knew each other since few months, who perhaps only knew the basic likes/dislikes of their partner were much at ease than them.
Them who had history, who had known so many ups and downs, mostly downs, who could read the other like a book, had a bridge between them. A small brush of hand and they found themselves shifting and stuttering, although holding hands had always been their thing.
She kept looking outside the window, as streetlights after streetlights passed by when she she felt his little finger hooking with hers. Her eyes flew to his but he pretended to be busy looking ahead as he kept maneuvering the steering wheel with one hand. It was nothing special, really, but to her it meant the world. Sure they had hugged before, they even shared a bed, but this small action of his was more intimate than any of those situations perhaps because it was the first time that he held her willingly and not because he had to.
He opened the window, letting the breeze caress her cheeks as she closed her eyes, her heart content.
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"Aagaye tum dono." The patriarch smiled at them, as they entered into the room. They walked till him and he could see how much both of them had grown up. The two friends who used to walk together were now going to stick together till the rest of their lives and that thought somewhat made him stay in peace. His Suman would never be alone.
He gestured them to come and sit on the bed. The complied like they always did in their childhood.
"Kaise hai meri bacchi ?" He asked her playfully yet lovingly. "Ye wakeel theek se khyal rakh raha haina tera ? They both smiled at the question.
"Bilkul nahi Nanu jab dekho pareshan karta rehta hai mujhe, har waqt ladta hai mujhse." She complained. She didn't want him to worry about them, not when everything was finally sorted for him. Shravan was taken aback by her words, but then he understood what she was trying to do and it made him respect her even more.
"Aur tum, tum nahi karti mujhse, jab dekho aapni Sumo giri mujhpe chalati hai." He scoffed.
"Excuse me ?" She asked, her mouth forming a big O. "Mene kya-"
"Accha bas, bas ab tum dono lado mat." He looked at them fondly, they haven't changed a bit.
"Tum dono ko aise dekh kar, tum nahi jaante mujhe kitni khushi huwi hai, tumhara bachpan yaad aagaya." He took both of their hands in his before joining them together.
"Hamesha ek dusre ka saath dena." He said while tightening his hold. Shravan looked at the hand which he had held by convenience, because he had to. The hand he had left so many times. The hand he had grown up holding.
She looked at their intertwined fingers. Fate has always brought them back together, by hook or crook. They weren't the happiest of people, hell sometimes they couldn't bear to see each other's faces yet there was this ease. What they had was not something they wanted, it was not how they had seen things, but it was their own, they could proudly claim to the world that 'this is my person and I am not letting go.'
"Ab mujhe bulava bhi aajaye, to koi gham nahi." He smiled ears to ears.
"Nanu."
"Nana ji." They both spoke together.
"Nanu aap aisi baatein kyon karte hain, kahin nahi jaa rahe hain aap. Kuch nahi hoga aapko." She had always been possessive about her loved ones, but there were two people whom she knew had her back no matter what. If something had to happen to them, she wouldn't survive. No matter how strong she appeared in front of the world, these two were what kept her going, all these years.
"Mujhe baat hi nahi karni aapse." She walked out the room, not wanting them to see her getting emotional.
"Jhalli hai bilkul." He chuckled looking at her retreating figure, but he was met with a glare.
"Nana ji aap jaanta haina usse ye baatein kitna affect karti hain, phir kyon aap aise-"
"Kya huwa, uss takleef main nahi dekh sakta ?" He asked with a little smile on his face, his wrinkles more prominent. He had still the same autorithy, the same aura after all these years.
"Bohot pyaar karta hai na ?" His experienced eyes bore into his but he didn't say a word, he just looked down. He knows that deep down he could never stop loving her, it was a part of his being, but he didn't have the courage to say it aloud.
"Main jaanta hoon, tum dono ke beech ladai jagda chalta rehta hai, lekin tum dono ki aankhon main pyaar bhi jalakta hai." Nobody knew them the way he did, after all they had grown up under his care and perhaps everything he said was true, but he was still scared to let go his walls. He was bound by his own strings.
"Kya pyaar kafi hota hai ?" He asked.
"Pyaar saans lena jitna zaroori hota hai. Agar kisi ke dil main mohabbat na ho, to wo insan andar se kholka hota hai. Agar tumhara pyaar imandaar hai to haan kaafi hain. Usme izzat aur barabri dono hone chahiye." He nodded, trying to grasp the meaning behind his words.
"Aur ek baat aur. Jab kisi se pyaar hota hai, to unki khamiyon ke saath unhe aapnaya jaata hai. Yun samajhlo, uss insaan se rooh se rishta jur jata hai."
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He came downstairs and a smile took over his face as he saw everyone eating and chatting like old times. Their families were so in sync, they complemented each other perfectly. She was standing in the corner of the room a soft small playing on her face. They both looked up at each other and he didn't have to look twice to understand that they were thinking about the same thing.
The night was spent in laughter and games, exchanging anecdotes on each other. They were hyperaware of each other more than the usual, he kept hovering around her and she didn't miss a chance to be near him.
Dabboo came and sat in his lap and started to talk animatedly. Her heart filled with warmth at the sight. He seemed to be a child around him, as if he was reliving his own lost childhood.
How many times she had imagined him like this with their own children . Perhaps a little boy with her eyes and his smile and a girl with her nose and his hair. A happy little family.
Like they say the world survives on hope.
"Shravan Bhaiya aap aaj mujhe Rubik cube sikhao ge na?"
"Of course sikhaonga." He answered, ruffling his hair.
"Dabboo idher aake khana kha." Mamiji yelled from the kitchen.
"Oh teri." He slapped his forehead, eliciting a chuckle from him.
"Shravan jija ji, rubik cube Suman Didi ke cupboard main para huwa hai." He yelled while running.
He stood rooted to the door of her room, his eyes scrutinizing every decoration, every color. He remembered every moment spent in this room, their sanctuary from the world.
He came towards her cupboard and his hand searched for the rubic cube, but he didn't found it. Above the cupboard, was a box, he stood on his toes to reach it. He picked it up above his head but slipped on something and all the contents fell on the floor.
He scanned over the now empty box he had in his hands and his eyes grew wide as he looked at the things scattered on the floor.
He knelt down on the floor, his hands reaching out for the first card, a sorry card, then a second, then a third. He wanted to stop reading but he couldn't, there were numerous birthday cards as well, every word she had written, every tear she had shed were like a dagger to his heart. He caught sight of a letter who had turned yellow with the years.
His heartbeat seemed foreign to his own ears, a distant echo.
She loves me. She has always loved me. He smiled between tears as his fingers traced the dry stains on the letter. Today, he felt lighter than he had felt in years. All this while he had been carrying the burden of his unrequited feellings, thinking that he meant nothing to her. All the contents of the box proved him otherwise, she loved him as much as he did, if not more.
His Sumo loved him. He touched everything like she must have done, so many times over the course of years. He smiled picking up the photo frame and all the photos she had kept before their split. His eyes fell on the ripped photos and realization hit him like a brick on the head.
"To phir main tumhe dhundh ne ki koshish karti aur agar tum nahi milte to tumhare aane ka intezaar karti, jaise pichli baar kiya tha.Main tumhe akela nahi chodti."She had waited for him, all these years without even being commited to him and he kept pushing her, testing her and despite everything she still stuck with him. He misunderstood her care, her concern for pity, while she had been loving him relentlessly. She proved it to him so many times through her actions, through her words.
"Kab thak naraz raho ge, ab to wapis aajao, boldon gi sorry, mana lun gi ;)"His heart was in his mouth and he found himself struggling to breathe as his eyes brimmed with tears, he had been wrong, so wrong about her.
She was right, he was quick to make his own conclusions without even listening. In those ten years, he had done everything to forget her, while she was pouring her heart out on the paper, because he wasn't there to listen.
"First day of college and I haven't felt this lonely since the times maa and papa left. For the first time I am scared of walking down the street alone. Ye pehli bhar huwa hai chashmish, ke mujhe tumhari zaroorat hai lekin tum nahi ho."He always felt that he had taken the backseat in her life. She always had the urge to please everyone around her and he realized that it was her need to belong to someone that pushed her to put everyone's happiness above hers.
"Sometimes I feel that I could do anything and it still it won't be enough for anyone but I keep trying if only someone could see that."She felt at home with him, she didn't need to please him to snatch a smile for him, she didn't need to go out of her way to have him standing by her side, because just the way he looked at her, when he thought she didn't notice was enough. In the world of debt and favors, he was the only one she could call her own. For her, they shared a relationship where that kind of assurance wasn't needed, but she had forgotten everything that had happened to him and how his trust hanged by the tiniest of threads.
"Summer vacations started two weeks ago and as soon as I hear a car pulling in the driveway, I run to the door, waiting for you to come out of the car.I can imagine you, I can feel you, but when I open the door, I am met with dead silence and you aren't there."All her life, she had been pinning for affection, she wanted to feel worthy, deserving of her family's love. He wished he could tell her that she deserved to be happy, to feel loved, without having to please everyone, she was love to him. She meant love to him even before he had an idea about what love was.
"I know that I have hurt you, a lot and it may sound selfish after everything I have done to you but I wish you could come back for me and I could finally get a chance to talk to my best friend and tell him that I am sorry and I need you and I miss you." This letter was strained with what seemed to be drop of tears, his fingers traced the smeared ink.That's why she had always been so clumsy with him. Finally, someone was paying attention to her, she finally understood what it was to be the first in someone's life and she was scared of screwing up.
"Kabhi kabhi tumhari aakhon main itna pyaar hota hai, mera dil karta hai, main saari responsabilities aur waade bhul kar sirf tumhari ban jaon, tumhe bata sakoon ke main tumse kitna pyaar karti hoon, lekin main hamare rishte ko aisi shuruwat nahi dena chahti, jisse sab ko takleef ho." He figured out that this was a recent one. The handwriting seemed to have evolved throught the course of years. It was elegant and tend towards the italic.She didn't want their relationship to be restraint by boundaries, she couldn't break relationships, to make her own. In her quest, of repaying her debt she had carelessly toyed with his heart.
"Tumhari Sumo sab ke samne bohot strong ban kar rehti hai, lekin baat jab tumhari hoti, to mere andar ki saari himmat khatam hojati hai."His breath hitched when he read the last note. This was not a figment of his imagination, it was real and as old as his love.
" I love you, I know I haven't acted like it, but I really love you and no matter what you do, no matter how many times you hurt me, I just can't stop and I wish you could see through me, lke you used to, come back please, I need you."He chocked on a sob, his head bow down unable to contain his emotions. With shaking hands he picked up every item and put it in the box, excruciatingly slowly. A few moments ago, he felt so warm inside as if he had found a new lease of life, now he felt dead.
He dragged his feet till the bed and plumped down on it. His hands gripped the bed sheets as his eyes kept staring into nothingness.
She barged into the room, as usual, but the smile she had on her face diminished as soon as she saw him in that condition, his head between his palms and the way his breathin was ragged it looked like he was struggling to breathe properly.
"Shravan." She knelt in front of him and looked up at him, her hands bringing his down, as she studied his face, she didn't have to look twice to understand that he had been crying, his nose was red, his lips quivered and there was this immense sadness in his eyes which she had seen somewhere, before.
"Tum ro rahe the na ?" He looked at her and he wished he looked away, because now he could see it in her eyes and he wondered why he had been so blind.
"Are you hurting somewhere ?" Her worried gaze made him feel even guiltier. Her fingertips touched his forehead, his eyes closed on their own accord.
"I'll give you your medicine, then you'll sleep okay ?" She caressed his cheek and spoke slowly, she was about to leave, when she felt his fingers trailing up her wrist.
He felt pathetic in that moment, some days ago, he wanted her to go away, from his room, from his life and now it felt like if she left his peripheral vision, he would cease to breathe.
Sumo took his face in her hands, her hands felt cold against his heated skin, which gave him the much needed relief. She wiped the tear that stung at the corner of his eyes, wondering why he was crying and most importantly why he was looking at her in that way.
"I'm just here, okay." She assured him, running her fingers in his hair. He nodded.
She searched the medecines in her drawers, she had brought a set of pills here, in case of emergency.
He wanted to apologize, for everything he had messed up. He wanted to say the words back. He wanted to engulf her his arms and never let her go. He wanted to make her feel loved, to tell her that he was the same empty shell without her. He wanted to say so many things, but only one came out.
"Were you really waiting for me ?" He asked with great difficulty, his voice hoarse.
"Matlab ?" She asked, not turning back, still busy searching for the medecines.
"Kya tum sach main mera das saal se intezaar kar rahi thi ?" His breath hitched as he spoke the words. At first, he was not sure if she had heard, but the way her posture had stiffened, he could tell.
"Shravan, hum iske baare main kaal baat karegen." She tried to avoid the question, unsure about the reason why he was asking this, when clearly he had refused to listen to her earlier.
"Ye mera teesra aur akhri sawal hai." He mumbled hurriedly, he understood her reluctance.
"Bolo na kya tum sach main mera intezaar kar rahi thi ?" He waited for her answer with bated breath."
Her eyes fell on the cupboard, his followed hers and he now understood his importance in her life. She sighed, her eyes closing.
He could hear her heart breaking with the way her breathing seemed to cease, he could see it in the way her hands quivered and he hated himself in that moment to make her go through all this.
"Tumne kabhi kaha kyon nahi ?" His voice croaked.
"Kab kehti ? When you were preaching me on how to move on ? She snapped back, her back still facing him. He got up from the bed and walked towards her, he could see her knuckles turning white with the way she was holding the table.
"Sumo." He called out her name so gently, after so long. She could feel him standing behind her and she wished she could turn around and melt in his embrace.
"Meri taraf dekho, please." He pleaded, his hand came to rest on hers, as she shaked her head side to side. His thumb kept caressing the skin of her palm as she struggled to hide her tears.
They stood there for few moments, his hand still rubbing soothing circles in the back of her palm. Their eyes falling on their picture, they smiled unknown to each other. The only thing worth mentioning about their childhood were the moments spent in each other's familiarity.
The knock on the door made them part away, she looked the other side to wipe her tears and he took a step backwards to give her ample space. She opened the door and met Dabboo, the little boy was standing outside the door, rubbing his eyes and his pillow tucked under his arm.
She knelt in front of him and held him by his shoulders. "What are you doing here ?"
"Main aaj aapke sath so sakta hoon, mujhe mere kamre main darr lag raha hai." He admitted sheepishly.
"Of course, so sakta hai, aaja." Her approval earned her a tight hug, they were in their little bubble not noticing him standing awkwardly.
"Shravan jija ji aap bhi yahan soge ?" His eyes twinkled with existement.
"Nahi wo ghar wapis jaa rahe hain." She said, not meeting his eyes.
"No rehne de inne idhar please please hum bohot masti karenge." He pleaded with those puppy eyes of his and she found herself melting.
"Lekin Dabboo-"
"Okay." He agreed, eliciting a yay from the child and a glare from his better half.
It was a normal occurrence for them to share a bed yet something was different, today. Perhaps, it had to do with the fact that the bed looked smaller than the one at Malhotra Mansion. Shravan took his shoes off and slipped under the covers, on the ride side of the bed, she took the left side as usual and Dabboo laid in the middle, happy with the arrangement.
He searched her eyes, wondering if she was thinking about the same thing - this could be them in few years from now - the possibility of a future with her spread a warm almost bittersweet feeling in his chest, his smile unwavering.
She pulled back the duvet on Dabbo, he took his chubby arms out of the comforter, getting comfortable. She kept one of her hand on his stomack, above the comforter, Shravan's hand came to rest on hers at the same moment and their eyes met for the first time since the establishment of the arrangement. She was about to pull her hand out, when Dabboo held onto both their hands, trapping them together.
"Shravan jija ji aap mujhe story sunayo ge na." He asked with a sleepy voice.
"Of course." He answered with a smile.
"It's the story of two best friends. A boy, a nerd like everyone calls him and a girl, school ki gundi, choti si, moti si." He emphatized the last words, hoping that she would at least smile, she answered by closing her eyes, feigning sleep.
"At first, they didn't even like each other, he seemed too boring to her and she seemed to be too loud to him. But soon she was fighting against everyone for him and he was ready to do all her homework for her. They did everything together, they ate together, played together, grew up together and the boy wasn't alone, anymore." He paused a bit, she had still her eyes closed, but the hand he was holding, was closed in a fist.
"Then, one day, the girl said something she should have never said and it broke their friendship, so he went away and spent ten years away from her. Today, he wants to tell her, that he missed her too, whenever it rained, whenever he ate Indian, whenever he saw tulips.
And today he needs his bestfriend back." He ended his sentence with a sigh, he was surprised that he was able to talk without crying. She stayed stubborn, not giving away, not daring to look at him. She wondered how she was able to contain herself and not bawl at his confession. He kept looking at her, waiting for a sign, but she seemed to be sleeping.
Dabbo was already in a deep slumber, she could hear his steady breathing. She felt his weight shift from the bed, her heart sank with the sound of the door closing behind him.
"Shravan." She called him. He turned towards her, she had wrapped a shawl around her petite frame, she walked towards him, her eyes looking up at him.
"What are you doing outside ?" He asked.
"I needed to take some fresh air." She said tightening her shawl around her shoulders.
"Oh I see." He could hear the own disappointment in his voice. He thought that she had come for him. She lied to him, she had to see him.
"Can we sit here ?" He gestured towards the swing and she nodded in approval.
They sat on the swing, side by side and admired the sky. In their childhood, they would spend hours watching the sky, finding forms into the clouds. The breeze made them shudder and unconsciously, they sat closer to each other than before, her left hand next to his. He enlaced her fingers with his, surprised at how it seemed to fit perfectly. She didn't know how to react to that, so she simply leaned against him, giving him ample space to back out, before finally resting her head against his shoulder. Despite their current equation, they felt at ease with each other.
"I'll miss coming here." She sniffled, she was very sensitive to the cold her eyes scanning through the garden.
"Hey, you can come back whenever you want." His hold on her hand tightened.
"Yes, but Nanu won't be there. It's just that I associate this house to him." And you she added in her mind.
"I'll miss him too but we can skype him and if you want we can visit him times to times." He felt her shudder and wrapped his hand around her shoulder.
"We ?" She moved her face from his shoulder, astonished by his words.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to lose you in a crowd." He teased.
She was about to retort with something witty when he put her head back where it was. She sighed contently, closing her eyes, as she felt him press his cheek against her head.
"Shravan, ek baat poochon." She mumbled sounding sleepy.
"Hmm ?" He whispered in his own sleepy haze.
"Pakka ?" Her voice seemed more awake, he could decipher the mischief in it.
"Go ahead." He said, tucking her more under his chin.
"Don't you think you have put on some weight ?" She stifled her giggles, when she felt him shift.
"Excuse me ?" He looked at her, breaking away from their embrace, an eyebrow cocked up in question. "As far as I remember Mrs. Malhotra, you are the one checking me out, every morning." He teased back.
"I don't, you are such a liar." She said looking away, blood rushing to her cheeks. He wanted to laugh at her reaction, she was such a kid at times.
"By the way, you don't look that good." That sassy comeback.
"Really ?"
"Hundred percent." She answered proud of her comeback.
He doesn't know what came over him as he started tickling her sides, making her swirm in his hold as she gasped. " Shravan Stop it !" She swatted his hands away and tried to push him, but he was much stronger than her. "Plea-"She hit him on his arm and turned in his embrace, her back softly colliding with his chest. "Okay okay, you look good." She kept giggling as she leaned her head against his chest. His own arms tightened around her and his face lit up with a smile as he peered down at her, her hair were a mess, but he liked it better, it felt like his Sumo, his jhalli Sumo.
"Shravan, tum khush ho ?" He could hear the hesitance in her voice
"Haan." He smiled against her head.
His fingers traced the scar he knew would be there. "You remember ?" She murmured.
"I do."
They stayed there simply holding each other. He knew that he had to to get her inside, with the way her head head seemed to fall ahead.
"Sumo, you should sleep and I should go back home." She looked at him through sleepy eyes, her nose red from the cold. He was tempted to plant a kiss on her red nose, but fought the urge.
They got up from the swing, which cranked from their weight.
"Chalta hoon, okay." He smiled at her
"Jaana zaroori hai kya ?" She bit back her tongue. Damn this guy ! She had no filter around him.
"I mean tum raat ko sopao ge, mera matlab, do you want me to come with you ?" She didn't know how to get her point across.
"Sumo, don't worry mujhe neend aajayegi."
"Okay." She nodded.
"Main tumhare liye nahi aapne liye keh rahi thi, ye ladka kabhi nahi samjhe ga. Stupid Qutub Minar." She mumbled under her breath.
"Aapna khyal rakhna, okay." His hand cupped the side of her face and she leaned into his touch.
"Tum ho na." She smiled at him, her twinkling under the moonlight which seemed to enhance her every feature. The words made him feel dizzy with happiness and he couldn't stop himself as he walked towards her.
He stood in front of her, their chests heaving at the proximity. He had a dazed look on his face, like in her dreams. When he looked at her with so much warmth and affection, she felt like melting into a puddle of goo.
His fingers went to undo the messy bun as the hair cascaded into beautiful waves, he eased them with his fingers. They seemed to have a mind on his own as he finally traced the little cleft in her chin, his eyes never straying from hers. Her eyes fluttered closed at his touch.
He leaned further, his palms cupping her face. Her hand came to rest above his heart, he smiled at the action and closed the little distance between them.
His lips touched her forehead for the first time and she felt her heart bursting with the way he was holding her. She never realized how much she craved the warmth of a loved one. She had never felt more loved or cherished. His lips were soft yet firm, nothing like she had imagined. If she were to die right now, she would have embraced death with open arms.
His lips lingered and she felt her walls crumbling down, as tears stung at the corner of her eyes. The only thing that kept her sane, was the thumping of his heart against her hand and she smiled at how it finally seemed to slow down.
He pulled back reluctantly with a tentative smile on his face, his fingerstips wiped the tear and he shook his head at her, telling her not to cry. He turned to go, not before looking back at her.
He needed to imprint her image in his mind - for the first time in months, Shravan Malhotra was going to get his much needed sleep and this was all because of this woman - the crux of his existence.
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Thoughts ?
Little skeptical about this one, as you can see it's long so you guys tell me what you liked or not liked.
Chapter 9:
https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/ek-duje-ke-vaaste/4800419/shraman-ff-holding-you-c18-pg-102?pn=46Edited by KitkitMkb - 7 years ago
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