Creative Thrd2:U can only be Mine,Just mine 145/6 - Page 39

When Geet awoke the next morning she reached out to for the comfort of Maan sleeping beside her but didn't feel him there. The sheets were cool. He must have been gone for a sometime. Geet felt a sense of panic envelop her. Had it been too good to be true? She opened her eyes suddenly, frantically feeling for the mangalsutra she suddenly doubted was there. But sure enough she felt it's reassuring, cool metallic presence on her neck and let out a sigh of relief. The sigh quickly turned into a gasp when she noticed the huge bouquet of bright blue and purple orchids that stood on her night-stand beside her. With a feeling of giddy anticipation she gently pulled out the card from inside the bouquet and read:

I thought of getting you red roses, for love everlasting but they seemed so ordinary, so commonplace for a love that is anything but.
So here are the flowers that represent our love, rare, strange and unexpected, but utterly beautiful.
Yours, Maan
PS: I've gone to get you breakfast.

Geet buried her nose in Maan's pillow and savoured his lingering scent. She couldn't remember when she had last been this happy. Had she ever been this happy? She read Maan's note a few more times, giggling, blushing and hiding her face in the pillows by turn. She had never been one for sentimental behaviour and had always mocked girls who indulged in such silliness but suddenly she too understood the merits of staring at a bunch of flowers for ten minutes straight. At long last she tore her eyes away from their flowers and made for the bathroom where she proceeded to brush her teeth and take a shower. She slipped on a bathrobe when she was done, grabbed one of the towels and began to dry her damp hair as she pushed the door to the bathroom open.

The sight that greeted her when she came out took her breath away! On each table, and in fact, every flat surface in the room there were plates of food, all different kinds. On one side of the room there were parathas, with butter and curd, on another there were platters of warm toast and jams of every flavour she could imagine, and a few that she didn't even know existed! The night-stand had five different kinds of cereal with pitchers of cold and warm milk resting beside them. There were fruit juices, orange, grape, mango, passion fruit lined up like a rainbow, just waiting for her. Finally her eyes fell on Maan who was imperiously ordering a waiter to place a tray of french pastries on a table in the corner. She looked at him with a mixture of incredulity and adoration in her eyes and when she caught his, his expression, which had been commanding a second before became vulnerable all of a sudden. He looked down sheepishly. "Mujhe nahin pata tah ki tum aaj kya khapaogi to maine sab order kardiya."

Paying no heed to the waiter who was still arranging some of the food on the table, Geet walked over too Maan, gently took his face in her hands and kissed him, trying to convey every last particle of tenderness she felt at that moment. He was startled at first, but then responded, winding his arms around her waist. They broke apart suddenly when the waiter knocked over a glass of water, his face scarlet, apologising profusely for his carelessness as he paled under Maan's glare. Maan tipped him generously and when he left the room, it took one look for Maan and Geet to burst into a fit of giggles as though they were little children, getting away with some silly prank. Geet was conscious that this was the first time she had seen Maan laugh, no inhibitions, no reservations and she felt a wave of pride for being the one who could make this man happy, this man who had so much strength and lived in oblivion of it, this man who remained in misery, thinking he was weak because there was nobody to tell him how great he was. She would tell him. She would tell him everyday, every hour, every minute if possible. And she would teach their baby too, how to adore their strong father who had suffered in silence for so long.

Maan couldn't remember the last time he had laughed like this. He had smiled, yes, mostly at Suhana and her endearing antics but never laughed, uncontrollably, felt as though he couldn't catch a breath in between. When he finally came up for air, gasping he saw Geet looking at him so adoringly that he felt bashful all of a sudden.

"Geet...um...tum...uh..kuch khati kyun nahin? Dekho maine itna saara breakfast order kar diya. Aur to aur ab tumhe do do log ke liye khana hoga. Chalo jaldi se shuru kar"

And Geet was ravenous. She devoured everything he had brought, not knowing whether she was feasting on the delicious food or his love for her. Something told her that she was probably going to see this food come up the other way in a few hours, but at the moment it was delicious and she was hungry! He watched her eat with a mixture of pleasure and astonishment as she shovelled morsel after morsel into her petite frame. After she finished with each helping, he would kiss away the jam coated on her lips, the creamy yoghurt that dribbled down her chin and the crumbs of pastry that lingered on the edge of her mouth while she moaned in impatience, waiting to get to the next course.

He was chuckling softly into her honey-flavoured kiss when his phone rang. He would have ignored it but it was the special ringtone, the one he had set only for her so that he need never be caught off guard. He groaned and managed to separate himself from Geet's impossibly sweet lips, smiled as he watched her eagerly reach for a croissant in satisfaction and reached for his phone.

He answered it and before he could get a word in edgewise, he heard the cold tone which had been the dread of his childhood years. It was a voice he associated with judgment, with his failure, with disapproval and perpetual disappointment and it didn't fail to arouse those feelings in him now. He cringed as he heard:

"Mr. Maan Singh Khurana, this is Savitri Devi speaking. I was under the impression that you were arriving in London yesterday and was expecting you at my residence. I was shocked to hear that not only did you, out of sheer disregard for my time, miss our meeting, but you missed it for some very questionable reasons. I suppose you don't consider me important enough to keep abreast with the latest failures in your life, but when it concerns the family, I expect to be informed of any such horrific decisions. Married indeed! What of all the highly profitable business deals you have sacrificed in the name of this whimsy? I demand you return to the house at once. I am here and I must see you. Clearly you are not old or mature enough to make your own decisions."

Maan opened his mouth to retort but heard only a dignified "click" at the other end of the line.

Maan knew that what his Daadi had said should not affect him but he could already feel the guilt burning his insides. He had promised her than when he married it would be for the company's profit. But then Geet had happened, giving him the most pain and the most joy he had ever felt. He knew he couldn't go back to his old life and yet...

"Geet, humein abhi ghar jaana hoga"

"Maan maine abhi tak vo dosa nahin kha----

"GEET NOW!" he said, his teeth clenched.

Her eyes clouded with confusion and protest, hearing his tone but she just glared at as she him, tied up her hair, slipped into her salwar kameez and put her things in her bag. "Fine, I am ready, Mr. Khurana." she stated coldly.

He felt terrible, seeing her revert to her cold, distant self. He immediately walked over and took her in his arms. She stiffened only for a moment before she melted into his embrace.

"I am sorry for shouting Geet. I will explain on the way."

Geet looked up at him, eyes full of trust, laid her palm on his cheek and nodded.

He smiled down at her and said, "I'll wrap the dosa so you can eat it on the way"