MG (FF) : Back to You (Updated #II link: Pg 141) - Page 15

They say memories are golden.

Maybe that is true.

But I never wanted memories.

I always wanted you.

Arabian Sea was the only constant in this city. In the great financial capital that changed every day, This Sea was the only stagnant spectator to the city that was Mumbai. And water had been a link between the two of them, a silent spectator to every aspect of their relationship; right from the first time they had met...

The sun rose early, spreading its glory wide to the world from behind the hills; its reflection sanctifying pious waters of Yamuna.

Geet stood at a lonely bank of Yamuna with her handy-cam, recording the early morning view. It would go on to become the introduction scene to her documentary. She turned her camera in a semicircle, taking in the panoramic view; enjoying the climbing heat of day.

Standing over a huge boulder gave her greatest advantage as she could cover most of nature's vista. It had been a pretty difficult task timing the scene, but she had been following up since the last three days and at last, today was her 'Perfect Day.'

Taking a deep breath she sighed.

"Hmmm"

Delhi is a good place.

She thought moving her camera around, but didn't notice another stepping stone below and stumbled over it. Screeching, she tumbled down, freefalling under gravity. The height of the boulder was such that she plunged directly into the swiftly flowing river below, crying for help as the flow went stronger now.

"Help!"

"Koi bachao"

"Helllp"

She yelled between bouts of gulping and coughing water, while her head was drowning under barbaric waves of the furious river. She tried to bring her swimming lessons to use, cutting the waves with her arms to try and stay afloat. But practicing in a swimming club with life-guards was one thing and staying afloat for life in a tigress of a river like Yamuna quite another. And clearly Geet wasn't managing well.

She had lost hope now as her limbs became limp, as she felt shackled by the serpents of waves unable to cut through the forceful waters. Giving up, she had remembered her parents and dear ones and sent a quick prayer to her Babaji, waiting for the inevitable, waiting for forceful waves of the Yamuna to engulf her. She still tried to kick in any and every direction in bleak hope but there was despair at the other end she knew. But that never came, the darkness she had associated with death never came; instead she found light, the heady sunshine beaming in her scrunched eyes when she found herself miraculously hoisted up by a strong pair of arms.

With a splash, they came out of the waters.

Pulling her out of the swirl area, the man pumped her high up, pulling her to shallow waters. Wading through the shallows with ease, he made his way out with her in his arms. Geet's senses were numb, but she knew she had been saved.

Thank you Babaji!

She felt herself hoisted high up in her saviors' arms as he carried her out of water. She leaned onto his shoulder exhausted, breathing heavily as water choked her wind pipe. Calming a beat she tried to gauge the situation.

Opening her eyes, she looked up. And then only did she see him.

Her savior.

Handsome would have been an understatement to his looks.

Perfect features included his straight nose, his bow shaped lips, the chiseled jaw line shadowed with light stubble. But what tugged at her heart were his eyes as he stared down at her; Brown, bewitching eyes. They screamed sorrow, they screamed pain. She could see through his eyes even in her half unconscious state. Such was the intensity of his pain.

He looked at her for a suspended second, chocolate eyes seeking hazel brown; and then tore his gaze away.

Walking back; setting foot on land, he dropped her down rudely like a sack of piping hot potatoes; caring less about her choking nose and panted breath. Leaving her there panting and coughing he started walking away. She saw him go away, a tall well built man clad in a white kurta-pyjama, now clinging dangerously to his wet body walking away after chivalrously saving her life and then rudely dropping her down.

The gallant tyrant!

"Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

She said aloud between bouts of cough and he stopped dead in his tracks. Turning around, he looked back over his shoulder, chocolate eyes painful than ever, anguish burning alive.

"Stay away"

He said angrily, as she sat there shell shocked at the man's audacity.

The moment melted away, as he tore his gaze once again and walked away as nonchalantly as he had saved her.

"Stay away"

He had said then, warning her for lifetime. But she hadn't stayed away; couldn't stay away as they had met again. They had been thrown together again and again.

That day the river had brewed a different storm, and today the sea too seemed to fix a storm; the unexpected calm sea seemed to nurture the water wraith lurking down underneath, ready to pounce.

But the night had kept a leash.

Nights made the sea look calmer, more beautiful. It always had.

It was Maan's favourite view.

Maan.

No.

She wouldn't crumble. Her resolve wouldn't melt.

And who knows why he's here?

She was engaged and that would not change.

"Mademoiselle"

She was broken out of her reverie at his pleasant endearment. His perfectly fluent French for madam.

"Your Mocha. Frapped as you love!"

He exclaimed; and sat down beside her on the stone facing the sea.

Then only did she see his face clearly. Illuminated by the moonlit he looked so good, still so young in spite of the maturity and stress lines chiseling his jaw. But what immediately caught her attention was the bruise on his forehead. Fresh and open, she stared at it alarmed, searching his face for any other marks. And there, she saw another cut at his cheek; not too deep but red nevertheless.

"What happened Maan?"

She raised her hand alarmed, brushing her fingers lightly over his cheek, her heart constricting as he winced.

"Nothing Geet. Just a small accident."

Maan smiled wryly.

It wasn't any small accident! It was a miracle.

A doom from where he had miraculously come alive and had gotten back his reason to live.

"But why isn't it dressed Maan. Oh lord! What if it catches an infection? How can you be so careless? Come we'll see a Doctor. Your wounds need dressing."

She said all of it in a single breath, panicked at his minor bruises all of a sudden. She caught hold of his hand to pull him up on his foot when he pulled her back down on his lap; His one hand encircling her waist and the other holding her hand as she sat there on his lap, staring skeptically at the wound on his forehead. Their coffee cups lying untouched on the side.

"I'm Fine Geet. I'd seen a doctor last night before leaving New York and…"

He pushed her hair behind, exposing her shoulder to his scrutiny.

"I'm told to keep them open. That way they'll heal faster."

He finished with a sigh, his warm breath fanning her neck; evoking feelings she had buried deep down and built a grave over just some hours back. His closeness reminded her of her decision, of her plight and she jolted out of his arms.

"Open wounds never heal."

She said wistfully, about to turn around to leave when Maan caught hold of her hand.

"Stay"

He pleaded.

She looked back, chocolate brown pleading dark hazel.

So, here it is.

Never thought I would be actually writing a real FF; but your love and encouragment has got me here and hope will take the story to its destination!

As I always say and repeat now, it's for you'll and Maaneet that I write.

Do leave me your Likes, Comments and Criticism...

Love to hear from you'll!

Until next update

<3

Frosted Starlit