Part 2Early mornings and late nights were a part of Suman Tiwari's life for more than a decade now. Life equalled to a train ride for her, the path taken remained unchanged. Home to work, work to home. During the ride, there were accidents and delays and at certain stops, surprises and the enormity of it often stole words from her.
If you looked from a distance, you would see a young woman thrived by ambition but if you looked closer, you would only see a woman bearing a burden too vast for her shoulders. Her voice did not lack authority but the fire in her was missing somewhere.
Riding her car across the busy streets of Delhi, her mind ceased wandering to weave dreams anymore. It was filled with logical nonsense, the glamour of dreams was reduced to signatures on inked papers.
She passed the threshold of PCT and replied by a brief nod of her head to her workers' greetings who were already up to work, rinsing utensils and reading the menu that was meant to be served for the day. She sat at her usual spot as she checked her accounts.
Profit or losses both need equal attention for a business to flourish.
Involuntary to herself, her eyes darted from the piece of sheet and caught the sight of the calendar at the side of her desk in which today's date was written in big bold letters. Four months. Only four months and her longing during these couple of months already promised a tough competition to the one she grew within herself for ten long years.
For a man, whose return was uncertain as the weather, for someone who had deliberately distanced himself from her.
Like liquor she had become injurious to him, like poison she had turned toxic for him.
Her mother gave her valuable lessons before departing. One of them was that patience is a virtue, despite waiting being tortuous and twisted.
Her mother feared for her daughter whose second name was impatience.
Today, Suman wondered if from she was, her mother could see how resilient her daughter had become, she had put the epitome of patience itself to shame and even though her miseries were hidden under apparels of success and indifference, her soul was drenched in emptiness.
She wished her mother had told her that sometimes to become someone, to hold interest, to make yourself loved, you had to give something.
To be crowned the epitome of patience, you have to kill the little girl inside you that cannot see beyond the smiles and the fairy lights.
Patience is a vicious virtue but to reap the fruit of labour is even more fulfilling.
A phone call that morning might put an end to the everlasting wait.
"There is a good news for you," Pushkar said excitement dripping from his words, she could imagine him grinning.
"Pushkar, it's impossible for the baby to kick, it has barely been three months," Suman reminded him with gentle reproach. Ever since they had discovered that Preeti was pregnant, Pushkar had become blind in love not that he wasn't already.
"Oh shush your mouth it's not that," He chastised, aggravated by her teasing, she and his mother spoke the same language these days though he didn't mind as long as Preeti found it adorable.
"It's not about Preeti or me, but you." He spoke smugly.
"Me?"
"Yes, you Suman Tiwari," He stated as matter of fact.
"Bhaiya wapis aagaye hai," He announced.
That day, every signal on the Delhi roads had been broken by a white ambassador driving away with a speed unmatched.
She reached Malhotra Mansion in time record and ran like never before, mumbling incoherent apologies as she almost collided with Kamini Chachi and Vandy Bhabhi who were going for shopping.
"Suman," Ramnath called her out as she walked in the home, quite dishevelled.
"Uncle main abhi aayi," She yelled as she bounced up the stairs that led up to his room, leaving Ramnath smiling to himself. Her hands were clammy and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, the anticipation to see him slowly killing her.
Huffing and with one swift movement of her hand, the door of his room was thrown open.
"Chotte kitni bhar kaha hai ke knock karke-" Shravan stopped in mid-sentence when he turned to reprimand the intruder.
His breath hitched in his throat and his speech reduced itself to silence as their eyes warmed to each other for the first time in four months.
A smile she tried hard to stifle graced her face as she entered into the room, taking small hesitant steps, fearing that the parquet would crack under her soles, breaking the illusion, the apparition created by her wild imagination.
"Hi," She greeted him as if they had seen each other just yesterday, to somehow bring back the sense of normalcy that now belonged to the past.
"Hi," The words left his mouth in a shaky whisper as folded clothes fell from his hands.
Her kurta was bunched up in a tight fist as she fought the urge to break from their self-imposed inhibitions and hug him to herself and never let him leave her peripheral vision ever again.
"Kaise ho?" Her voice a mere whisper.
"I am good aur tum kaisi ho?" Shravan repeated her words as he bent down to take the clothes that had fallen on the floor.
"I am good," She forced a smile.
"When did you arrive?" She asked genuinely curious, she could tell that it had barely been a day as he was still in the middle of unpacking his belongings,
"This morning only," He replied, confirming her doubts.
"Lao main help kardon," She suggested craving for the easy banter and comfort that flowed like water between them and approached him to take the clothes from him like she had done it before but the moment their hands brushed against one another, he flinched and retrieved some steps away from her. She gulped hard at the realization of her loss and looked away for a moment.
Shravan wore a mask and an armour from a possible threat to whatever was left of his heart and it killed her to think that a mere touch, the most fundamental sense to humanity meant entrenchment to his safety, a curse in disguise thrown against the castle of glass he had built around himself.
"No it's fine I'll manage," He countered and she nodded wordlessly in return. Her eyes came to rest over a small red bag she had insisted on opening during one of their games and he had blatantly refused to let her see claiming it as personal stuff', the memory still warmed her heart despite their current equation.
He glanced back and forth between her and the bag and his light brown eyes lit up with recognition as they both burst out laughing. For a moment, his mask slipped and the truth of his feelings echoed through his laughter and sparked in his eyes, only for a split second and then the walls were up.
"I guess, packing aur unpacking dono acche se aagayi hai tumhe." She smiled expectantly, waiting for him to retrieve a memory.
"Acche se," He affirmed her claim, remembering how she had done it when he had gone back to London.
"Baitho." He gestured towards the couch as he saw her standing by the side of the bed and sat across her.
His hair had grown and she found herself tempted to run her fingers through the soft strands. "You need a haircut," She said out of the blue, almost immediately regretting her words as he arched a brow at her.
"My father said the same thing, when he saw me," He shared it without a second thought and his lips pursued in a thin line the moment the words left his mouth. Even though, he had forgiven him, his father's betrayal stayed a searing wound.
Suman saw the transformation unfold under her scrutiny, the small smile lingering around his mouth was wiped off his face the instant his father was mentioned in the conversation.
"Isn't that categorized as unkempt for court?" She teased with a joke in attempt to brighten his mood. Shravan offered a weak smile.
"It is, but I didn't had any court dates last week so..." He shrugged.
"How's work going?"
"Great! Eric freaked out when I told him that I had to go for a while but I'll still try to handle from here," He said more to himself than her.
"They'll manage, they have got the best," She said in all honesty and smiled endearingly at him when he scratched the back of his ear, embarrassed. He was still bad at receiving compliments.
"How long are you going to stay?" She tried to let her tone appear nonchalant as she fiddled nervously with her thumbs.
"I don't know, I haven't thought yet," He said waving a hand to dismiss the idea. "I just wanted to come back once. I have missed the people here, the familiarity, home and y..." He stopped short at the realization of his confession.
Strange, how he had constantly complained about her bickering, her omnipresent presence around him during the months he was falling back in love with her. She filled every crook and nook of his mind and left him incapable of sustaining coherent thoughts.
An enchantress she is and under her spell powerless he was named.
And now that she was sitting across him, like old times, the realization of his yearning for her left him befuddled with anxiety. He had longed to see her face, to hear the sound of her voice and the sweetness of her laughter, to be acquainted with the creases in her cheeks as she smiled up at him, to drown in the mischief of her eyes and to share inside jokes only they laughed at.
He did not want to open his wounds with memories of the past. He starved on them every day and relented to let them brim in his eyes, it's an ordeal not to steal a glance at what was once yours, for the heart craves for the impossible and the senseless.
"Oh, I thought you had come back for good," She said quietly, disappointment evident in her voice.
His lips pulled up in a pained smile and his fingers itched to smooth the creases on her forehead, "I don't really have a reason to stay."
"What if you had one?" She asked softly, searching his eyes.
In a bid to thwart the question, he got up from his seat and took hold of a pile of books before venturing inside his closet. Suman followed suit and stood behind him as he busied himself with stuff.
"You didn't tell me," Shravan tried to say the next without wavering, his back facing her. "How's the married life going on, Suman Ahuja?"
Suman had wanted for him to turn around and look at her in the eyes when he asked her this question but she understood why he stood facing his back to her. It was easier for him to hide his face and lie to himself. Lying to her was something he had never learnt.
"It's... Tiwari actually." She cleared her throat and corrected him.
Shravan turned around, confusion etched on every line of his face for a moment before he made a sound of understanding, "Of course, you would have kept your maiden name."
"Taana maar rahe ho?" She retorted hearing the undertones of teasing in his tone. Shravan never taunted anyone unless he felt that he had a right upon them.
Realizing the blunder he had made and afraid that he had offended her, he apologized immediately, "I am sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's okay," She assured him. "There are other instances where a woman keeps her maiden name."
Shravan looked on waiting for her to complete her sentence.
"I called off my wedding," She informed him.
"What happened?" He questioned shocked and somewhere relieved, she deserved better than an excuse of a man constantly searching for faults in her past.
"Nothing, I just realized that he wasn't the right man for me," She said firmly, her eyes shining with determination.
Shravan broke eye contact, her gaze made him feel emotions he had long ago forbidden himself in fear that they would cloud his judgement, her words ignited a hope that had met a premature end way too many times.
"I have a man in my life, Suman nearly whispered and Shravan's hand hit against the shelf in a sudden movement as the piece of information reached his ears. He inhaled closing his eyes to get rid of the water that blurred his sight.
"Puchoge nahi kon hai wo? She tilted her head to see him as she wheeled him around by his shoulder.
Her hand reached out to his side and she gently gathered his larger palm in her small one, almost on impulse he retreated his hand only to be stopped by strong fingers holding on to his, a silent plea for him to stay.
"Bohot dard horaha hai? She asked as she gazed down at his hand caressing the back of his palm with similar desperation and longing glistening in her misty eyes, like he had four months ago.
Shravan stood in between two storms, on one hand he wanted to run away, cloistered by his own demons and on another he was tired of running away and was willing to succumb to her gesture of rare affection.
In tandem as he stepped closer to her and towered over her, eliminating the distance between them, he saw that he had reached for her face, that he was centimetres away from touching it. He dropped his hand.
"Wapis aa jao, Shravan, She cried clutching onto his hand as tears fell over the back of his palm.
"I can't, Sumo, I can't, He whispered with a sigh, his eyes tight shut as tears formed on the edge of them.
"Everyone wants you here, everyone needs you here, She insisted, her voice breaking with every word.
"Tumhari ghalat fehmi hai ye, no one needs me, He smiled sardonically, forcing himself not to let on the hurt he felt.
"But I need you, I want to be with you, She said forcing her voice not to tremble.
"Hum saath nahi ho sakte, Shravan said in a whisper, his voice devoid of any emotion, he had given up on her. "You don't want this, you've made yourself feel guilty over the months, that's all, if this is really what you wanted, you would have said it a long time ago.
"We can't be together or you don't want us to be together? She asked, disbelief shining brighter than the tears in her eyes.
He had said goodbye to her in hope to safe himself and her.
A new page had been turned by him, a new chapter had been inked and he had hoped with every ounce of his being that after this time of breaking, there would be no place for heartbreak, no room for despair, no burden stacking in his arms, only revival and resurgence.
He had waited all his life to hear those words from her and in his craving for her to love him with equal favour, his heart had stretched so much to accommodate all of her, all her flaws and perfections, leaving not even a corner for him to grow.
"I don't want to be with you," He hurried with words as if wanting to be done with it as soon as possible, her tears cut deep.
"Why?" She couldn't help but ask, her fingers tracing the lines of his palms as he let her no more pulling away from her.
"I don't feel anything for you," He stated coldly and it hit her in the gut.
"You never felt anything for me?" A hint of bewilderment in her voice as she tried to catch his gaze.
"Never." He kept his eyes locked to the ground and shook his head ruefully.
"Look at me," She commanded more sharply than she had intended to. "Yahi baat meri taraf dekh kar bolo." He looked up at her.
"Ab batao, tum mere liye kuch mehsoos nahi karte?" Her tone menacing, her eyes spitting fire and for every step she took forward, he stepped back till she had cornered him and his back hit the cabinet behind him.
"I-I am incapable of feeling anything for you without losing my sanity, I am incapable of looking at you for too long without feeling suffocated, you make me so vulnerable, so weak that I fear to break..." He fell silent for a moment when his voice quavered. "I want you out of my system, Suman Tiwari, I want closure this is what I feel for you."
Suman retrieved away from him and went to take one book from the pile of books he had kept on the side table. He recognized the 12th standard book.
"You want me out of your system, you don't want to feel anything for me, you search for closure, then throw this away," She said her voice firm and strong as she thrust the book containing the letter, his heart, his past-self in his trembling hands.
"If you throw this, I promise you, I'll be gone and I won't ever come back, Suman Tiwari will be officially out of your system, She said with a smirk as a set of fresh tears welled up in her eyes.
His fingers clutched tightly onto the remnants of his childhood, how was he supposed to ablaze everything around him without getting burnt. He had safeguard that letter from piercing eyes and resounding questions, it was not a mere piece of paper rather a piece of him, the one that received the first blow from life.
He put it on the shelf behind him.
"Nahi karsakte na? Kya huwa Shravan? You claim to want closure, you want me out of your system but you can't throw a ten year old twelfth standard book?" She hissed out clenching her fists.
"Till when will you keep running away from yourself?" She asked as she wrapped her hands around his arms, shaking him. "Why can't you give us a chance?"
"Because we don't deserve each other, we will always fall back into this endless circle of hurt and I am tired of it, you deserve better than be dragged into my messes, you deserve a real man, jisse aurat ki izzat karna aata ho," He said the tiredness in his voice never leaving.
Suman shook her head vehemently refuting his words, "That's for me to decide not you," She pushed against his chest. "Tum hote kon ho mere liye faisle lene wale?"
"Sach kaha, main hoon hi kaun tumhare liye?" He asked with a sardonic smile.
"Shravan tum jaante ho tum mere liye..." Before she could confess to him, he shook his head at her, stopping her from saying those words out loud.
"Why don't you let me be there for you?" She reached over and brushed the hair at the back of his nape, his eyes closed at the contact as he slightly leaned forward towards her.
Fear left him stuck in his tracks, afraid to take a leap of faith and climb the ladder of insecurities, to break free outside the box of prejudices and take hold of what was written in fate, what if their names were not scribed together by destiny?
"What kind of self-respecting woman wishes to spend her life with a man who left no stone unturned in insulting her, who is driven by both misogynism and chauvinism?"
"A woman who has gained courage from the boy, the man once was. You might become anyone today, I know your past-self better than you do. Behind your anger and your indifference, I see my Chashmish, I see you. She spoke tremulously, barely able to hold herself together. "You are the only one who loved me despite me being imperfect, so when you didn't leave me, how do I leave you?"
Exhausted, she diminished the distance between them and her head came to rest against his shoulder as she stood on her tippy toes and hid her face in the crook of his neck, her nose grazed the skin of his neck and he shuddered.
Suddenly he was aware of the tears soaking through the shoulder of his shirt and the wetness spreading on his neck and his heart broke all over again as a sob broke out from her mouth.
Face drenched in tears, hands fisted to his side and a heart hurting so much that he wished to rip it off his chest, Shravan allowed themselves, she and him to find some relief in each other's breathing vicinity.
"Main tumhare beghair nahi reh sakti," Her voice came out muffled against his neck and they reached his heart.
Slowly, she moved away from him, "Sorry, tumhari shirt kharab hogayi hai." She sniffled and wiped the tear tracks on his shirt.
They both smiled and it felt nice, unnatural but nice.
"I'll come tomorrow," She said softly and he nodded in agreement.
As he looked at her walking away, he did not close his eyes to shut the sight of her walking away from him rather his eyes followed her retrieving figure till the moment she closed the door behind her.
It was their gate opening towards breaking free.
Edited by KitkitMkb - 7 years ago
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