"Nupur, he's got a little baby, so he won't be in my class," Sonali said, walking into the small office.
"How old?" Nupur asked, looking up from the lesson plan she was working on. The kids would be arriving soon with their respective parents. She needed to be absolutely prepared.
"Don't know, maybe three or four years old. But oh.my.god, Nupur, the dad is a major cutie and guess what? No wedding ring," she said in a sing-song voice.
Nupur laughed and shook her head, something which she constantly did while listening to Sonalis's silly chanting. "Alright, so now he's coming to talk to me isn't he?" She asked nervously.
"Yep, so don't be nervous and chin up! Remember to flirt, Nupur," Sonali said matter-of-factly. "You simply have to get a man and that stud out there is six feet so-and-so inches of pure masculine manly manliness"
"Yeah, I'm going to flirt with a potential student's father. Brilliant plan, hun, just brilliant. If you haven't noticed until now Sonu, I'm not like you" Nupur stuck her tongue out at Sonali.
"I'd totally go after him if he were my type. But how am I going to snag Vikram Raina if I'm lusting after other guys?" Sonali said seriously. "Plus, he's more your type" she added as an afterthought.
Nupur's eyes widened. My type? How the hell does she know what my type is? She rolled her eyes at Sonali's immaturity.
Sonali smiled widely and winked. "I'm going to go set up for class. Have fun with the hottie daddy!"
Nupur shook her head again and took a deep breath. Don't be nervous Nupur. He's just a client. Not Hitler. Just a client. Just a client. You won't screw up. Chanting this mantra, Nupur stepped out of the office with the pile of paperwork for the new student's parent. The minute she walked into the entrance area, the pile of paperwork dropped to the floor and her mouth gaped open.
Oh my God, this isn't happening. No no no no NO! That is definitely not Mayank Sharma standing right in front of me. No. He isn't. I refuse to believe it. Ouch! That pinch hurt. He is Mayank! No, no, no, nooooo! Don't cry, Nupur. Why are your eyes stinging, you idiot! Stop crying. Stop. Stop right now. Good. Don't show any weakness. Remain composed. Composed, not shocked fool! Ok. Breathe. In, out, in out. Ok, now's a good time to say something. Say something Nupur, don't just stand there. Say something! Oh my god, after 5 years I see him and he hasn't changed at all? The same expression on his face as if he's carrying the world's burden on his shoulders and angry with every single being. The same damn expression. Sadu, akdu expression. Don't call him that! Those names were reserved for the old Nupur. Not the new one. I won't allow it. 5 years of effort shall NOT be flushed so ruthlessly down the toilet. He doesn't seem shocked or even surprised looking at you. In fact, he seems indifferent. As if'.as if he doesn't care'. Does he really not care? NUPUR! Get a grip and say something now!
"M-Mayank. You?"
Mayank looked at her and shook his head slightly. "Wonderful," he muttered. He had heard Sonali correctly. He scrutinized her carefully. In all these years, she had changed. For the better. No! For the worst. She always changes for the worst. She'd grown thinner, her hair was shorter but more obviously, her wardrobe had taken a completely different turn. Gone were the days of the salwar kameezes and anarkalis. Now, it was a much more professional look ' a simple white, button down shirt and a black pencil skirt. Why am I noticing her appearance? Why is my pulse quickening? Mayank Sharma, remember 5 years back? Right, now get a grip and always rememeber ' Nupur Bhushan means nothing to you. Nothing. Zilch. Focus. Concentrate on Neev. Not on the way a naughty strand of her hair refuses to stick behind her ear. The way it moves back and forth, back and forth as the wind blows. The way her eyes have a shocked air about it. But there was something else. Another emotion. I can't place it though. Stop Mayank. You promised yourself you'll maintain your pride in front of her. Now reply.
"What are you doing here?" she asked very unprofessionally.
"I'm the damn chimey-sweep. What the hell do you think I'm doing here?" he retorted.
A muffled voice came from the small child in his arms. "Two bad words, daddy."
"Sorry, buddy. What's the punishment?" Mayank asked, ignoring Nupur's stunned silence and turning to his son, who still had his face hidden in shyness.
"Umm'.grounded for ten minutes at home," came Neev's smothered reply.
Daddy? Mayank?Mayank Sharma, the father of a child? Oh dear Lord, is he the one who wanted to enroll his son here? Mayank? He- he had a son? I thought, I thought he was as'.no Nupur, he had a life after you. Why should he choose the same dreary and bleak life you chose? He must have gotten married, had kids. Why is there such a sharp pain in your chest, Nupur?
"Fair enough," Mayank said and kissed his son's unruly jet black locks.
"He's, h-he's your son?" Nupur managed to choke out.
"Yes," he replied, simply.
Her heart sank into a void of which the depths were immeasurable. Her eyes began to sting again, the bank of tears threatening to pour out in fury, frustration and resignation. Why was she overcome with such grief? Nothing had ever been her fault. Nothing. It had all been his fault. His fault all along. If anything was her fault, it was her condition. She had deliberately put herself in such situation umpteen times, despite the advice offered by people who actually loved and cared for her and understood her importance. She always harboured this tiny ray of hope in her shattered heart, that he would return. And although he had caused her unimaginable pain, she would somehow still accept him with open arms. He, however, had gotten over her and moved on. Fine then Mayank Sharma. You want to be indifferent and cold. Be that way. Two can play this game, she thought assertively, pursing her lips.
Nupur straightened her shoulders as she bent down to pick up the papers. Surprising, Mayank bent down to help as well. Had hell frozen over?
"So, you're the teacher here?" he asked.
""Yes, I'm the early-childhood teacher and the owner of this school," Nupur said solidly. "I didn't know you had a son."
"Well, now you do," Mayank replied condescendingly, standing up and handing her half of the papers.
Nupur stared at him. Feelings of confusion had diminished and old feelings of hate and bitterness surging through her veins at the arrogant way he presented himself. Even after saying all those harsh things to her, those arguments, that torture he put her through, he still head his head high and made even the proudest person feel inferior. I won't let myself be broken again. Seeing him again after all these years makes no difference and it shouldn't either Nupur. You're a strong woman. He means nothing to you. Ignoring the intense brown gaze he featured and the strong bone structure he had grown into and the way his hair slightly fell into his eyes'umm'where was she'oh yes. He was an asshole. Was, is and will always be one.
"Can I enroll him or do you just want to ogle me all day?" Mayank's voice broke through her reverie.
Nupur scowled and thrust the stack of papers in front of him, ignoring the pain in her heart when she saw Neev, handing him a pen and paper. Still the little boy remained clutched to his father desperately.
She watched with amazement as Mayank spoke softly to him.
"Can I set you down so I can write?" Mayank asked him.
His jet-black hair shook as he sniffed, strengthening his hold on his father.
"Are you crying?" Mayank asked him.
Neev nodded his head and sniffled again.
Mayank's shoulders sagged with heavy emotion as he knelt down to place his son on his own feet. He stooped down to face him at eye-level.
"You promised me you wouldn't cry," Mayank said quietly.
Nupur watched the scene before her eyes. Never could she have in her wildest dreams imagined the same Mayank Sharma whom she hated would be capable of speaking to his son with such tenderness and adoration. Even when they were together'It was obvious from the onset that Mayank loved his child.
When he had set his son on the floor, Nupur saw the little boy's face. His resemblance to his father was remarkable. Yet, there was a softness, a naivete, an innocence to his young face. So much like the young Mayank, she recalled the photographs his mother had shown him. Why does she still remember this? Don't dwell into the past, reverberated the wise words of her best friend.
No matter how much pain it caused to see him, she couldn't deny though, he was an adorable child, with a hint of mischief lurking beneath the light brown irises. She couldn't help imagining who his mother was. Obviously, is there anybody else other than that witch?, she snorted internally.
CID
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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