Love Digger's husband Ch 33 6/5 - THD 2 LNK - Page 75

Chap 28 :

Maan:

He shuddered involuntarily with the chill cold generated by the air conditioning yanked to a seriously low temperature. Coming in from a blazing hot day outside pregnant with high chances of rain this place seemed unreal. He looked around him and found folks dressed in formals undoubtedly wanting to appear rich and powerful. This place was teeming with a Diaspora of peoples who were trying to find meaning in someone else's vision. He looked at the paintings before him and none of them made sense. Not in a way Geet made sense.

He saw her trying to make sense of her surroundings. He could easily tell she had never been to an art exhibition before. She was treading suspiciously. Oh she was trying to touch one of them paintings. No Geet! That is not allowed in here. But her fingers came off before touching the painting and all that remained was the puckered frown on her face. She was now inconspicuously checking out the attire of the woman standing next to her, Mrs Singhania.

Now Mrs Singhania according to Meera was notorious for her fashion sense even in the art circles. Her earrings were of a big square shape and contained a huge unpolished stone. And her necklace with its painting pendant might as well been hanging on a wall. Don't worry Geet, not all rich women dress like that.

He then saw Geet standing next to Yash and whispering something animatedly to him. They were being too close for his comfort. He never liked it when she spoke to anyone else. For they couldn't possibly understand what she was really trying to say.

Yash, you had asked me my type. There she is standing right next to you talking in breathless iambic pentameters. I like any normal man like a good artist with all their glorious eccentricities for I can never hope to become one. Deep sigh.

Of course girls like Geet came with their own set of problems. She was a walking talking disaster in every aspect of her life. She could not maintain a healthy relationship with her own family. She did not have an ounce of social etiquette or elegance.

He could consider taking their equation to the next level and let everyone know about their status quo. But folks in office always gossiped. People would laugh at his choice. They would say of all the women in the world he had to 'settle' for a mere college drop out secretary who did not even have the patience to comb her hair. He didn't really care what people thought of him but he knew that Geet wouldn't be able to handle all of it. She would buckle under the pressure of being his interest and a lot of people were dependent on her. Artists were more sensitive than teeth without enamels.

So he had to pull her out of her self induced coma first. He couldn't do it all in one go either. He had to wait and watch and make it seem as if she made it big all on her own. She needed that confidence to feel secure with him. Even now she had not been smart enough to realize that he had been the one behind her first big break or back cover or whatever. She was being oblivious to it all and not looking past the obvious.

He came closer, saw her beautiful long back tightly bound with the dori and felt his pulse rise up a notch. He wanted to touch and feel her but there was a time and place for everything. There was no denying that she was scorching hot. But Maan Singh Khurana was not about to become foolish in his pursuit.

If anyone wanted to know the history, yes he had always been curious about her ever since he met her. She did knock him out for a hoop and made him do things out of character. He couldn't in his wildest dreams imagine closely hugging a girl in broad daylight in the rain. He had only sought out to help her in a way that did not wound her fierce pride. But then she had choked him with her breath full of zeal to live although she was drowning.

He looked at her with hopeless longing and decided yet again he would make her feel good enough for him. He never wanted the run of the mill hot guy saves damsel in distress story for himself. But having said that he was a go-getter and a bigger moron.

Corporate world or a phd was a steep climb for the best of men and it made no sense to just mope around suspiciously resembling a devdas waiting for Geet to fulfill her long ever growing list of ambitions eh. The name of the game was to make things happen. He saw Yash walk away to the inner sanctum where the 'exclusive' paintings were kept.

Being a writer was a safe way for her to say she was famous. Now if he were to tell people Geet is a bestseller writer would they really question it? If they were to read her soon to be published book and end up not liking it they would think it is not to their own taste but youth of today read anything with an attractive cover. So may be Geet Handa was indeed famous and they just hadn't caught on. He felt compelled to hide her present ineptitude and childishness.

Also writers were not like models or hot raving beauties or super happening career women. They were reclusive creatures which worked perfectly for him. He did not want a trophy or an object of desire for every possible man. He wanted a person he could trust and not get burned. Geet was just perfect.

Geet "Why do they make this place so cold?"

Maan "I think it is because they don't want all these super expensive paintings to thin. Although I wouldn't be able to differentiate if a color or two has run."

Geet "So Meera is like too much into paintings right?"

Maan "Ssh! Ok I think we have stood for a good amount of time before this painting. Let us move on to the next one."

Geet "Why are we here again?"

Maan "We have an important potential client here who we want to catch and Meera is the only one who knows anything at all about paintings. Make no mistake these are the places where we can appear important and smart."

Geet "Vow really? What are we supposed to do here. Please don't tell me we have to buy something. How much does one of them cost anyway?"

Maan "I don't even want to think about it."

They were standing blankly before a nice painting which had two blobs for humans one pushing the other into the vague blue strokes in all directions indicating the ocean. Supposedly the waves were turbulent enough to be termed as a whirlpool.

Maan "Wait a minute this painting is giving me a feeling of deja vu. Wonder where I have seen it before."

Aargh! He was rubbing off a painful jab on his arm.

Maan "Meera! What is this nonsense. Why are you punching me?"

Meera "Oh my! Poor you with a sense of deja vu. For your kindest information me and Yash had painstakingly gift wrapped this very expensive painting for you and had it delivered right to your door step. I am sure it is lying unopened in some cobwebbed attic somewhere in your grand palace. I should never have listened to his advice."

Maan "If it was unopened why would I have a deja vu? Meera I know we are friends and all but we have to set a limit. This kind of behavior is…"

Meera aimed at his arm again but he escaped this time. He was experienced in evading punches from ladies now.

Meera "Ok enough! Now tell me what you make of it. What is the point of the man in the boat pushing the other man into the whirlpool when they are both going to be dead in a few minutes anyway?"

Maan gave an intelligent thoughtful look before saying "I think they are two brothers who share a deep acrimony towards each other. Such kind of intense hatred is only possible amongst two people who were close once upon a time."

Meera "I think they are brothers but love each other. The one pushing wants to save the other the grief of having to see him die. That is why we gifted you the painting. I wonder what the painter was thinking when he painted it though."

Vow, only he hadn't heard of two grown men 'loving' each other except when they were husband and husband. The painter was definitely a woman.

Geet "I think that the painter is an uneducated foolish idiot. Nowadays who goes out into the turbulent sea without checking the weather report first? All one needs to do is to send an SMS. I wonder who gave this duffer artist a chance."

Meera and he were gaping at her.

Geet "Oh sorry. Am I not allowed to make such statements in here? It kind of slipped out."

Meera frowned "Now why would you think in such a way Geet. It is a painting. It is supposed to be symbolic and not something so practical and real. I have to agree it is smart thinking though."

Except it becomes stupid once voiced.

Geet shrugged "Well excuse me for I beg to differ. But it is nothing smart on my part. When one does not have money to spare to buy paintings one thinks in these kind of angles. Sometimes intelligence is unintentionally borrowed from pain."

Geet walked on to the next painting. But Meera and Maan were still staring at each other fizzed into a silence.

Geet "Hey Babaji! It is just a painting. Why are you behaving as if I have dropped an atom bomb on you? Come on."

"Geet!"

She turned back and almost rammed into the imposing structure called his brother.

Maan "I forgot to mention that Dev would be joining us."

"Good morning Sir." Geet said uncertainly.

Dev "I heard your views on the painting. What if it is a period piece? A time when no weather report was possible?"

Geet "Will they give the painting for the price at that said period then? Say ten rupees. But that would be bad, for Meera and Yash would feel gypped."

Meera and Maan were laughing heartily at a red faced Dev. Geet had a lot to learn and one of those things was to not appear smarter than the boss.

Dev "Very smart Geet. I am sure the painter cares about your views and is dying to sell you his painting for ten rupees. Bro why did you bring this girl here? If she talks so cheaply in front of the client we have lost him already."

Meera "Did you say gypped? I haven't heard that word since my English text book. Where do you get those words from Geet?"

Maan "Geet writes in her spare time. I am sure she has built her vocabulary from there."

Meera "Vow you write! That is awesome. Why don't you show us what you have written sometime?"

Geet looked deliciously embarrassed. Play it cool my lioness. "Oh no no. I am not like a serious writer or anything. I just write in my 'spare time' as MK said."

Dev "Ok that is enough now. The client will be coming over any minute. And Geet needless to say don't open your mouth unless to answer a question. Is that understood?"

Dev's advice as always was priceless but untimely. Hold back a little steam for the client my dear brother. Geet nodded glumly and moved ahead. Maan wanted to kiss her so bad it made him hungry.

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Originally posted by: SiniHanda

If you were on a podium, Sheesh, and reading out the updates, trust me, I'd be among those who'd clap and wolf whistle after every sentence and sigh and be animated about everything contained in them... was wondering how it would sound to have you read it out... as in a podcast... food for thought? You could be the first FF writer here to update in audio format besides text 😳 and would be lovely to hear you narrate! Just a random wild thought...

Needless to say, loved every bit of the update waise... and Maan sure has meddled with Arif on the cartoons on the hardcover... hopefully Geet will take it well 😳

The whole time, while reading this chapter I felt as If I was reading someone's description of their muse. Frankly speaking, I don't know the proper meaning of that word...but whatever I understand of that word...in simple terms is something inspirational, motivational and encouraging. It's sometimes like a beginning of a new friendship. People introduce you to something new probably they themselves and at times you end up liking them. In this way I wonder if people who become a part of your life become so special because of the fact that they somewhat keep inspiring you in some way or the other? 😆

There's always a point where they motivate you to do something new bring about a little change in you. The change might not be a phenomenal one but a small one, enough to totally change a lot of things around you. I don't know how much strange it would sound if I say those were the vibes I got while reading this part. It's almost been an year that I'm reading your updates almost continuously and never ever did I feel the emptiness due to less descriptions of surroundings or physical attributes of someone/thing. It's just the characters and the words. They simply grow and that's the reason your writing doesn't remind me of anyone. It's unique and lovely. Not to forget the happiness I get from the fact that I don't understand it easily. 😛
This is one freedom which your stories give me and which I love wholeheartedly ...that is to write something that probably doesn't even make much sense to me but still doesn't stop me from yapping away to glory! Writers and artists create an illusion or what? They let you or give you the freedom to imagine yourself as super smart or super lame as you wish. All in the name of interpretation. Totally awesome that it almost feels unreal.