Chapter 17: Reconciliations In the span of time ten years to be precise he had lived away from his home country, Shravan Malhotra had never experienced the luxury and joy of embarking on the journey back home.
It was a foreign concept to him.
It was something he had avoided and retarded for the longest time. Piling on excuses and prolonging his work commitments he had done it all to avoid a confrontation. Because Delhi was no longer the hometown he cherished but a place filled with memories of the past. A place filled with memories of Suman Tiwari.
He had turned a deaf ear to Pushkar's incessant pleas and he would broach off the subject with great professional opportunities whenever his father would mention the possibility of him returning in order to take over Malhotra and Associates as to fulfill his dream.
"Malhotra Mansion," He gave the name of his destination to the driver as he settled on the backseat of the car, unbuttoning the two first buttons of his shirt allowing himself to breathe. Bangalore's weather had been faring better than Delhi's.
Shravan liked to believe that he was a man of all seasons he could settle anywhere. He thought that his attachment to the places he lived and worked in was a very tenuous thing but he had been proven wrong on all accounts. His attachment to places might be a tenuous thing but his attachment to people associated to the places was limitless. It knew no bounds.
Somewhere deep inside, he longed for it. For that homesickness his peers raved about to be so strong that he would be forced to pick up the phone and make that call, to send that friend request, to board onto that flight, meet her once and just put an end to it.
But the clouds of his past hovered over him like a menace and the path that led to life and light seemed too thorn-strewn to be walked upon barefoot.
With this one week trip to Bangalore, his aversion towards airport was now confined to the occasional delays and the last minute changes. He didn't harbor any kind of hard feelings for the waves of people that came along and went.
Unlike last time, someone cared. His arrival or departure still meant disturbance but the sweet kind of disturbance.
The kind that forced her to steal his t-shirts that kept his cologne intact and surround herself by heap of blankets to find a substitute to his warmth, the one that didn't let her sleep till she had heard his voice ringing in his ears accompanying her in her dreams.
Now, he understood the joy of being back home, the exhilaration of all of it.
Her name flashed on his phone as he reached in front of the gates of Malhotra Mansion. He had been careful not to mention to Suman that he would be arriving a day before than he was supposed to. And by now he was sure that she would be a raging volcano as he wouldn't answer her calls.
Dragging his single luggage behind him, he walked down the path towards his house, his shoes slapping against the stone steps that led to the front door.
He raised his hand to ring the bell and after a minute or so he heard faint sounds coming from inside, someone was walking up to the door.
It opened slowly and revealed a flour filled Sumo wiping her face with the back of her hand as she gasped at his grinning face and then leaped into his arms causing him to stagger back a little before he caught himself from falling. She melted in his form completely and her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, pulling him in a tight hug. His hands were folded around her back, drawing her closer.
"Why didn't you pick up my calls?" She mumbled still holding onto him.
"Surprise, Sumo, surprise," He said caressing her hair and kissing her temple.
After a while, he tried to pull away to see her face but she clung onto him. "Sumo, everyone is looking at us," He chided her as Vandy and Preeti walked away from the living room giggling, Pushkar on their toes.
"I missed you," Her voice was muffled against his chest and he had to ask her to repeat it only to rile her up. "I said, I missed you," She rumbled out in a sheepish tone and a smile instantly made its way on his lips.
These small declarations never failed in making him feel loved and taken care of.
He pulled his head back and wiped the flour smeared on her face with a calloused finger causing her to smile slightly and duck her face down. They stepped inside, his arm around her shoulder and her face still tucked by his side as she talked miles a minute. They wouldn't let go.
***
After changing into more comfortable clothes and unpacking his stuff, Shravan went downstairs, searching for Sumo. Passing through the living room he saw her busy in the kitchen, stirring something.
"Here," She said, handing him two cups of freshly brewed coffee in a tray.
"Since when did you start drinking such strong coffee?" He scrunched up his nose in distaste at the dark color of the brewage.
"It's not for me," She chastised him cupping her forehead in disapproval.
"To phir?" He asked confused, they never drank coffee at this hour.
In reply to his question, Suman narrowed her eyes and motioned with her chin towards the door across the kitchen. Shravan turned around and followed her gaze and saw the door of his father's room.
Realization dawned upon him and his hold onto the handles of the tray tightened a bit as a mild fear took over him, his eyes losing their spark all of a sudden.
"You mean, aaj?" His words came out a little shaky.
"Abhi," Suman affirmed. "Don't you think it's high time you guys talk?"
The conversation with Lalaji swirled round Shravan's mind for many nights, leaving him restless and incapable of sustaining sensible thoughts. For the first time he self a sense of remorse, longing he should not have severe his ties with his father, not so abruptly at least. It had been weeks since they had interacted apart from the perfunctory greetings they exchanged at the dining table.
A long, prolonged silence was hailed from both ends.
After pondering deeply and seriously over the matter without a hint of bitterness or indifference, every of his thought led him to the same conclusion. He wanted to resort their differences, not due to any obligation he owed to his father as a son but out of his own free will. He had expressed his wish to do so to Sumo and both of them had decided to postpone their wedding announcement till he had that conversation with his father.
He nodded in affirmation but his limbs felt impossible to be moved. Aware that these conflicting emotions tore him to an extent of disarray and sensing that he needed a little time just to gather himself, she snatched the tray from his hands and kept it on the counter.
She came closer to him and cradled his face between her palms. "You have got this, okay," She whispered caressing his stubble covered jaw and his defenses came crashing down, his face lowered to rest against her shoulder as if in surrender.
"Can't we do this tomorrow?" His voice was small, almost pleading and she found herself willing to succumb to his will, whisk him away from all of this but she knew too well about the intricacies of life.
"No," She said softly but with conviction and she felt him releasing a long sigh against her neck. He pulled away from her neck and held her loosely by the waist while she wound her arms around his shoulders.
"You said that there was no rush," He muttered, voice dropping down a notch but the soft glimmer of accusation in his eyes was well perceived by the one it was directed towards.
"Of course, there is a rush!" She exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing to say and he looked on dumbfounded.
"I want to get married to you..." She stood on her tippy toes and kissed his right cheek. "...As soon as possible." She placed a kiss on the other one and a smile quirked up the corner of his mouth.
"I have been waiting for so long," She said as she gazed up at him with tenderness.
"Main bhi." He cupped the side of her face with his palm, his smile broadening.
"Come with me," It was a spontaneous request and as much as she wanted to be there for him, with him, she knew that it was something he had to deal with alone.
Some battles were meant to be fought and won alone.
"He is your father, Shravan, zyada se zyada hug karle ge," Suman's words were cut in by Shravan's amused chuckle.
"Now, go." She gave him back the tray and pushed him out of the kitchen.
He walked through the living room and stopped midway and turned to look at her, his resolve slightly shaking but the hesitation he had briefly experienced, vanished when she mouthed a 'Go' at him in her usual Sumo's style.
As he turned in towards the room, he came across the sight of the door being slightly ajar and his smile reappeared. He raised his hand to knock on it, just to be polite and in a way to announce his arrival. Entering silently, he closed it behind him with the help of his heel.
He looked around as if trying to remember something when his eyes met the sight of his father's sleeping form and a sigh escaped his lips. There he had fallen asleep on the majestic sofa itself, surrounded by a heap of files.
Shravan kept the tray down on the small table and proceeded to take each file from his hands, careful not to make any sound as to not disturb this rare moment of respite. He seemed to be at peace after a long time.
Cautiously, he arranged them on the edge of the table and in his hurry to do so, a heap of paper fell down from one of the files. He bent down to retrieve it from under the table and his face registered shock for a second. Staring back at him was an article and a picture of him shaking hands with the judge after winning the Bangalore case. It was a cut out from this morning's paper, he realized.
He felt knots in his stomach as he looked at his ashen-faced father.
He had raced overnight from middle age to a man breathing his last and it pained Shravan to see him so. He wished to remember the mountainous man he had been, the strong willed lawyer, the gentle and caring father.
Shravan raised a hand to gently shake him from his sleep and whisper his name but words left him and he couldn't will his lips to form words.
At this exact moment, Shravan remembered how scared he was of death and its companions. As a child he didn't understand the difference between a peaceful slumber and a never ending spell. Many a time he had barged in while his father took a nap and thought that the inevitable had happened till he hopped on his lap and rest his ear against his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeats relieving him.
The memory had no perfect set up, it was blurry in his mind. But the finest detail was his father's face creased with joy and the warm pat on his back as he slept like never before.
Without being aware of it he sat down in front of his father, his hands reaching out to take hold of his feet as he started massaging them. Ramnath's feet often hurt him, joint pain and tired limbs are part of the profession, he'd say.
Ramnath woke up from a trance like sleep to see his son sitting by his side and dutifully massaging his feet, like he had done so many times in the past. He straightened himself and blinked several times so Shravan would not appear in a blur anymore.
"Shravan, tu kab aaya?" Ramnath questioned pleasantly surprised to see him in his room.
"An hour ago," He replied with a slight smile.
"Why are you sitting on the floor? It's cold, sit on the bed," Ramnath urged him to get up by tugging on his forearm but Shravan resisted. "It's fine," he said.
Tonight, he had come as a son. It was his place to be.
"Bas kar do," Ramnath said and tried to retrieve his feet from Shravan's hold.
"Kyon? Pehle bhi to karta tha na?" Shravan's voice was diligent, cautious.
Ramnath nodded wordlessly and leaned back his head against the headrest behind.
Ramnath cleared his throat which caused Shravan's attention to peek towards him. "I read the paper today, the way you handled the case with such ease... it's commendable," He could not help but express his admiration whatever he had contemplated for his son had come to life in the most stupendous ways.
"I know." He eyed the cut out on the top of the file from the corner of the eye.
"Meri har cheez rakhne ki adat abhi tak nahi gayi na aapki?" He asked with a hint of a smile in his voice. The hall of fame behind was a living proof of a father's adulation for his son.
His father was the kind of father who wore his son's achievements like a parapet. But he was a fun parent who didn't hesitate to mingle into mindless games just to please him. He would spun him around by the arms until he felt dizzy. He always praised his work and even inflated his ego times to times. And he never feared to say 'I love you'.
"From your first drawing to your latest case, tumhare har achievements ki nishani rakhi hai mere paas. So, when my grandchildren ask me about their father, I have proof to support my claims," His tone was laced with uncharacteristic mirth.
Shravan chuckled freely in response at the picture perfect he had implanted in his mind.
A hush fell over them.
"Shravan," Ramnath called out and Shravan let him know that he had his attention as he shifted closer to him, his chin almost touching the hand rest and had Ramnath reached out he would have touched the back of his head with his hand but he did not reach out.
"Maaf kar pao ge mujhe?"
Sometimes, the simplest of questions are the hardest to answer.
Shravan looked at him with quiet eyes and a wan smile. "Bachpan se leke aaj tak, I never took any decision without consulting you," He replied pensively looking into the distance.
"So, you tell me, should I forgive you?" Shravan counter-questioned.
Ramnath was at loss of words, his head bent down in shame.
"And if I should forgive you, then why?" He pursued.
Ramnath stayed quiet. No answer was good enough and on a second thought, he might not be deserving of forgiveness.
"You have been a good father to me, I'd even say a great father. You have provided for me, you have made everything possible for me..." Shravan drew a harsh breath. "And I'll always be thankful to you for everything you did for me."
"But tell me, does you being my father and providing for me right all your wrongs?" He asked expectantly.
Struck up by his words, Ramnath looked up at him. There was something in the way Shravan asked the question that gave him away and reminded Ramnath strongly of his bespectacled boy, always keen to seek information. Once he was in the question that was burning his brain, he wouldn't leave till he had acquired the answer.
"I can't forgive you because I owe you as much as a son, I simply can't and if anyone wants to label me as a thankless son then so be it. I'll happily live with that," He told him with finality in his voice as he stared at him with a strong resolve.
"Aapne sirf mera dil ya bharosa nahi thoda tha, aapne mujhe andar se thoda hai..." Shravan's eyes filled with tears as his tongue rolled out with lucidity his words freed from the self-imposed silence he had drown them into just so he could still appear strong, nonchalant and indifferent. "...to phir maafi bhi to mere dil se hi aani chahiye na?"
"You have spent all your life trying to make a man out of me and you have failed on every account..." Shravan shook his head ruefully, his eyes shut as the regret over his own actions emerged from the depths of his chest.
"Be a man, Shravan," The words still left a bitter almost metallic taste in his mouth.
"I confided in you so many times, how could you not see how hollow I was from inside?" His voice finally sounded betrayed, heartbroken.
Ramnath's eyes glistened with guilt, remorse.
"I told you that I might never be able to find happiness with a woman when she was right in front of me the whole time." A tear trickled down his face and he wiped it frantically, his lips set in a firm line.
"I had almost lost her," He whispered in trance, the pain in his chest so raw, he wanted to rub a hand over his chest, in a futile attempt to lessen it.
"Mera ghussa, my generalizing women wo sab isliye tha kyon ke main andar se itna..." His voice quavered and he had to swallow the lump in his throat, gather himself. 'I was so scared...so insecure of my own shortcomings."
"And it all happened because you never taught me forgiveness, you never taught me to love myself. Ye sab mene ek aurat se seekha. I learnt from a woman what it is to be a real man," He intoned softly with a smile as an image of Suman smiling up at him appeared before his eyes.
Ramnath noticed the transformation, the happy glint in those expressive eyes was back and the smile on his face, albeit small was infectious.
But it was only a moment.
"It took me ten years to understand that it was not my mother who abandoned me but my father's wife who left him due to his own failings and you know what the best part in this is?"
He didn't let Ramnath say a word and went on answering his own question.
"It's that in all these years, it never occurred to me that you could be at fault," he blurted out.
"You were my hero, Papa," He breathed out and both men's eyes met, years of sweet memories flashed. "You were supposed to save me from everything, from myself," He said tremulously, barely able to make a voice.
"No child deserves to support the burden of his parent's marriage, Papa, whether it's a flourishing one or not..."
Ramnath's throat constricted with emotion.
Mustering courage, his trembling hand reached out for the back of Shravan's head and when he didn't flinch like he had expected him to, he muttered, eyes glossy with tears. "I am so sorry, Shravan." He kept caressing his hair as he repeated his apology.
Shravan's throat tightened with tears not just because of this gesture of fatherly affection, but because of how gently he had spoken. He made a feeble attempt to smile and looked down at his father's soles, slightly stroking them as his tears fell upon them.
He wondered what he was apologising for. Maybe for not being the father he needed him to be. Or for failing to equal to the man Shravan had in the recesses of his heart placed on a very high pedestal.
"Mujhe aapse koi shikayat nahi hai aur ghalti sirf aapki nahi thi," He replied with composure and it was true he held no grouse against him. Who was he to condemn a man who had dug his own grave and passed the last twelve years of his life in complete solitude?
His father was already bearing his sentence, like no one other he had felt loss in life.
"But, Shravan "
"No, Papa. I could have handled things better and Maa could have have handled things better. If she was capable to make a name out of herself then she was more than capable to do the possible and meet me once," He said firmly.
"I forgive you," Shravan said with a teary smile after a prolonged silence, rubbing away the warm tears that caroused down his father's face.
Ramnath's eyes filled up Shravan had left him speechless once again.
"What sort of person are you, Shravan?" Ramnath stared at him in amazement. How could he be so forgiving, so kind while he was so rancorous?
Once again, Ramnath Malhotra thanked Almighty for his son was not his shadow. He could never be.
"I have no idea, you should know, I am your son," Shravan replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders quizzically.
He had always thought of Shravan as his innocent boy who needed protection from the world and its hardships but now that he saw his silhouette in the dark, light tumbling on his face, he knew that he had grown to be a man.
A man who had carved his own path in the alley of healing.
And there was nothing more satisfying and beautiful for a father to watch a well-loved son grow into a man of integrity.
"Coffee?" he offered and Ramnath acquiesced.
"Ye coffee tumne banayi?" He asked surprised as he took a sip.
"Sumo helped," He revealed scratching the back of his head causing his father to smile fondly revealing wrinkles.
Shravan had missed his father's smile as much as he had missed his mother's presence in his life.
Standing at the balcony, knuckles white from how tight he gripped the railing, Shravan stared into the distance, the evening breeze cool against his skin. He closed his eyes, it was calming.
With every breath he took, he felt a sort of liberation rise within him. The constant discordance between his heart and his mind had settled for a peace treaty. The heart and the mind, the will of the soul and the reason, his strongest allies that were never his, that were ruled by others for the longest time, that were told how to function, how to think and feel were finally freed from the cage of inhibitions.
All the poison that had made home in his heart slowly drifted away, the blindfold he had been wearing till now had be removed by his own hands, the voices that didn't let him sleep were blocked by him. He was no more entangled in the web of farce concern and hidden truths, he had found the exit and walked away.
To walk alone meant to gain true freedom he did not live in anyone's shadow anymore. Shravan Malhotra was free from obligations, expectations and insecurities.
His sense of self he had lost eons ago had been retrieved to him, pieces by pieces.
In Sumo's smile and her unwavering faith in him, in her gestures and her proposal, in her love and her forgiveness.
Is this what we call healing? When the desire for recovery is stronger than the weapons of hate.
He did not realize when tears had started to flow down his face and now laughing freely he wiped them with the back of his hand.
Was it supposed to be like this? So strong and overwhelming...so liberating, he felt like a newborn.
A sound, something like a gasp left his mouth when he felt her lips between his shoulder blades as her head came to rest against his ample back and her arms found abode around his chest.
"I am so proud of you, you are so much stronger than I thought you to be," She said with sincerity and his heart burst with an amalgam ion of feelings. It was a simple statement and yet it meant the world to him.
As her forehead came to rest against his back, the mighty and very tall wall crumbled and in her arms was huddled, a man who was her equal in every sense but never feared to lower his stance and let her see how loved she was, how self-sufficient she was. His heart that hammered underneath her palm was a constant reminder of it, the shudder that went through him at her proximity let her know the extent of his longing for her.
Despite the exhaustion in his bones, every ounce of his being fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his and his grip on the railing loosened as she rubbed her nose on his spine. Her arms squeezed a fraction tighter and his body melted into hers as every muscle lost its tension.
Very gently, he took her hand and raised it to his lips awarding her with the softest of touches, so soft it almost felt like a tickle.
Misty- eyed and still holding her hand, he turned around. Their eyes met and he was left staring at his Sumo, her smile a mirror of his. He cupped her face and caressed her soft skin with the pads of his thumbs. Ten years ago, he had yearned to caress those cheeks, see them turn damask under his fingertips and half expected her to slap him across the face for his action. Ten years later, she resigned and sought warmth in his gesture of affection.
"Sumo, I..." His whisper died on her lips, silencing him.
And then he wrapped her in a warm swaddle of chest and arms and very delicately laid her on the bed as if she was made of glass. He slipped under the covers with her and traced every feature of her face with a heat and devotion that made her want to drop her gaze but his eyes were so different in moments like these, they left her stupefied and she was drawn in closer, always wanting more.
He pulled her hand between them and marvelled at how demure her hands were. His fingers found hers and he played with them, caressing the lines of her palm before pecking the tips of each one of them. Then, he pushed her tresses away from her face and playfully smacked a kiss at the tip of her nose, making her laugh a little in return.
He felt her do the same as she brushed his hair back and then her nimble fingers dragged along the side of his face, his prominent cheekbone, his sharp jawline and then they caressed the muscle at the side of his neck that always seemed to call out for her, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Her eyes fluttered to his and the side of his neck, she was very well aware of what she was doing to him and yet a part of her wanted to see how much more vulnerable this man could be under her gaze and proximity.
Like in a trance, she bent down to place a kiss on the side of his neck ever so slightly. She looked up from the crook of his neck with an expression of awe as his eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted in desire.
Shravan felt like everything was lit on fire the moment her lips got acquainted to his skin and the way she looked at him through her curly lashes, her beautiful brown eyes urging him to do something and yet so innocent, so unsure only added to his misery.
She was aware that he hung by a thin thread when his muscular arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, so close that she felt his heartbeat against her own. And she realized that she never wanted someone so ardently , she had never wanted him more than in its instant.
Despite how much he wanted her and she could feel it in the way he held her, in his gaze under which she felt branded, he was his usual gentlest self with her, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on the exposed skin her t-shirt revealed. But it's when his breath hit her squarely on the lips that she realized the gravity of the situation.
She was trying hard to resist the temptation their closeness created but then he stared at her so vulnerably and with so much love it made her heart lurch in its spot.
"Thank you," She said in barely than more in a whisper.
"For what?" He questioned, his voice low and husky.
"For being mine," Her voice wavered, exhilarated from the onslaught of feelings and tension between them.
He kept staring at her for a sign of discomfort or hesitation but only saw the glow of assurance in her eyes. He gently leaned in and brushed her lips before softly capturing them in a peck of warmth. His fingers gently ran up and down her spine coaxing shivers from her as their lips moved in perfect sync.
Then with the merest hint of a sigh, he lowered his head till his face nestled in the hollow of her collarbones and inhaled her scent. "I love you." He began nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses. So faint, they were whispers.
"Shravan..." She whispered, her fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt in a mighty grip as she tried to gather herself.
"Shh..." He kissed her softly on the eyes.
"Tum theek ho?" He asked his voice hoarse and in answer she could hide herself in his chest, nodding.
He wanted to extend the night, stay closer to her for longer and trace every inch of her skin with his eyes, his warm fingertips and then his lips but he had heard the tinge of hesitancy in her voice and it was enough for him to pull away. It was a lot for the both of them with their inexperience kicking in and also the overwhelming urge to yield themselves in their entirety to the one they loved.
But it could wait.
Tonight, they were entangled in a mess of limbs and arms and it was perfect for time being. Being in her breathing vicinity was more than enough to him.
Tomorrow she would leave to come back to him and this time around, he intended to make it forever.
-
This chapter was supposed to be longer than it is, I had bunch of scenes ready but I don't why I felt like it wasn't going well with the chapter.
It was by far I feel one of the toughest chapter for me as it is the last Ramnath - Shravan conversation for this story but also for this new phase in Shravan and Sumo's relationship that I have tried to write as well as I could.
I hope that I was able to make it meaningful and subtle do let me know what do you feel. And yes I am going to miss writing the conversations between the duo father - son, they were very very close to my heart.
Thank you.
Edited by KitkitMkb - 7 years ago
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Cricket
