Vertigo [Completed] - Page 2

Chapter 10: Sambhala hai maine bahut apne dil ko...

"There she is," her aunt exclaimed ushering Geet in as soon as she stepped inside. Geet saw that her parents breathing a sigh of relief and Pinky sent a small smile in her direction. The guests, a family, were total strangers to her. "Come in sweetheart," her aunt said sweetly and made her sit on chair next to Pinky. "This is the youngest - Geet. The one we were talking about," she said smiling wanly at the family.

"She is pretty, just like you said," the mother of the family gushed measuring Geet with her eyes.

It took less than a half a minute to sink in. The so called prospective groom her aunt was talking about last week! She looked at her aunt who was beaming in happiness about her achievement and swallowed the frustration that rose with bile. Her family was smiling and seemed veritably happy but she could see the layer of nervousness that had permanently etched their faces. Pinky's wedding was stopped mid-way when Geet had stood against giving up their business and house for the groom. Though Geet had saved the family from going to debt for the rest of their lives, the sourness of her being the root cause of events was never forgotten. Her aunt had decided that it was best if she was married and shipped off to a foreign family. She wasn't asked what she wanted let alone who she wanted. She wasn't even asked if she was ready for such a large transformation in her life.

Tears sprung in her eyes as the events from office splashed in her memory and the helplessness she felt at the moment. She had foolishly believed that she could dream about the unattainable and had mistaken the kindness showered on her to something else. It hadn't helped when her heart hammered mercilessly during the moments of tenderness. It was in those moments she had wholeheartedly believed that everything she was feeling was in sync with him. And the only logical conclusion she had drawn out was that - we are in this together.

But then there was Sasha, whose presence didn't confuse but smacked her face with reality.

Sasha was reality. She was a dream.

And she had known for a fact that Maan was a very practical man.

That thought alone made her squeeze her eyes shut. She felt shudder rise in her chest when the anxiety and a pain born from unknown origin burned her lungs. She stood up suddenly bringing the light conversation amongst the elders to a sudden halt. Her aunt looked at her pointedly while her mother was plain worried.

"I will...come in few minutes...I need to freshen up," she bolted from her spot without waiting for a response. She prayed that the guests wouldn't poke this as an act of disrespect but merely as a necessity for a girl to relieve herself after coming from office.

She stumbled into her room and leaned on the bedpost, tired of the onslaught of various emotions. Pinky's hasty footsteps jerked her out of her momentary solace and made a dash towards bathroom.

"Are you okay?" Pinky asked as soon as her eyes fell on Geet who was sprinting towards bathroom. Before Geet could close the door behind her, Pinky was already standing by the doorframe. Without responding, Geet opened the tap and started splashing water on her face. She had hoped that with enough water dripping from her face, Pinky wouldn't realize that the water would be mixed with tears. Her shoulders shook gently when sobs burst through her throat but she willed her body not to show the suffering to her sister.

The sobs were silent, just like her attraction.

Once the constriction in her chest reduced and the void in her became larger, she shut off the top and stood straight. She looked at herself in the mirror and the first word that came to her mind was - struggle. Her face was that of a person going through tribulations against an unknown enemy. She trained her face to remain aloof when she met Pinky's eyes in the reflection.

"Why do you keep asking me if I am okay?" Geet asked applying foundation again. She had walked out of bathroom wordlessly and pulled out dressing chair. Pinky had widened her eyes in surprise at the sudden change in her younger sister. One minute ago Geet had looked as if she was asked to commit a homicide but five minutes later she was dressing up to make a man kneel on one leg.

"It's because I am unable to understand you anymore; at least not since you joined Khurana Company," Pinky said arranging Geet's hair.

"Are you saying I am changed?" Geet asked accentuating her cheekbones with a pink blush. She decided to show the face the world wanted to see and not what she wanted to show. The only thing that went on her face on a regular day was moisturizer and her cheekbones got their fair share of pink when she blushed at a compliment. Sparkly grey adorned her eye lids as her fingers deftly ran an eye shadow brush. Since the shine in her eyes was hiding behind a cloud of unhappiness, an alternate was required.

"I am just saying Geet...that...I don't know," Pinky threw the comb on dressing table, the frustration built from weeks surfacing a little. She knew that it wasn't the time to talk about it but the opportunity had presented itself. Geet stood up and readjusted her dress. She sprayed perfume owned by Pinky and smelled in its scent deeply. The floral smell reminded her of the flowers in the temple she visited and an old conversation about faith and God whispered in her ears. She swallowed the memory and pushed it into deep labyrinths of her mind.

"I think being in this city and interacting with its people has an influence on you," Pinky said feebly. Geet cocked her head and peered at her sister. "Yes, I think you have changed. And you are changing at a pace with which I am unable to keep up. Our interactions would keep reducing by day...and...I am scared that one day we would be two strangers-living in same house," Pinky said softly. She felt wind leave her lungs as Geet hugged her fiercely.

"Please don't say that." Geet said. There was desperation, hopelessness, longing, reverence and memories of their childhood in her voice.

"You will tell me what's going on with you, won't you?" Pinky asked breaking the hug. Geet smiled at her.

"Let's go before aunt comes here and kicks my butt. Let's get it over with," she said and walked out of the room hand in hand with Pinky.

Pinky forced a smile and nodded at her, noting the lifeless smile on her younger sister. Her insides burned when she didn't receive the answer she was hoping for.

--------- >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ---------

"Thank you so much for doing this Maan," Sasha gushed as he pulled a chair for her.

They had spent most part of the day in office, going through monuments of plans and documents for the partners, board of directors, primary contractors and senior employees. The three day annual meeting was a bit event in their company where Maan met with his counterpart. The day had ended with first round of meetings with primary contractors and Sasha had managed to charm everyone out of their boots. He had taken her to his favorite restaurant in London as a treat.

"You were pretty amazing today. Champagne?" He asked holding up a bottle. She smiled and nodded, happiness radiating out of her. He was genuinely impressed with the way she had tackled few misogynistic questions thrown in her way - instead of ranting or raving, she had taken help of her wit and intelligence and put the men in their rightful places.

"Here you go," he said handing her a champagne flute. Their fingers brushed when she accepted the glass. A lovely shade of pink covered her neck and cheeks. She averted her eyes when she felt her fingers tingle at the contact. She truly, honestly, loved the man sitting in front of her.

Her reaction surprised him as it wasn't the first time they had had any physical contact. She always walked with her arm looped in his and hugged him whenever she deemed it was necessary. His thought process was cut short when their food arrived and they launched into smalltime conversation about food, London and their work.

"Would you care for a walk?" Sasha asked him as they walked out of the restaurant. The night was warm and the crowd was thinning. He curbed the instinct to check the time. They were having a good time and he didn't want to ruin the evening for him. Wordlessly, he held out his arm. She took it gleefully and prattled on about the things she wanted to buy before they boarded the flight back home.

"Why am I your girlfriend Maan?" Sasha asked, looking at the river. "As far as I remember, I declared myself as your girlfriend and you never contested the fact." She added, her smile holding several secrets. She turned around to look at him as the still river made her uncomfortable. In a fleeting moment, she had seen a reflection of their stilled relationship and it had scared her.

"I never felt the need to contest that fact Sasha," he replied honestly. "I accepted it because I didn't feel it was wrong," he added. She hummed and started to walk back to their hotel. "Why the sudden question?" He asked her falling in step with her. She shrugged and winked at him.

"It's beautiful here," she said twirling on sidewalk, inviting glances. He had to smile at her enthusiasm and her radiance was highly contagious.

"Sasha, you look as if you are going to start singing," he said grinning.

"Ah! It is one the happiest days in my life Maan," she gushed.

"Then I am very glad that I was a part of it." He replied sincerely. Sasha hid her expression from him and the night behind the veil of her hair. Her smile didn't reach her eyes and the melancholy that she felt she was cursed with was bound to return.

They walked in silence till they reached her room. He insisted on walking her to the door as it was nearing midnight and her security was his responsibility. She hadn't expected chivalry from him as it wasn't offered to her before but now she was being showered with his kindness and attention.

"Thank you for a lovely night Maan," she said standing on the threshold of the room door. He smiled at her and simply nodded.

"Good Night Sasha," he said and motioned her to go inside.

"I know that you don't understand what love is Maan. I know that you never felt the need to be the one who initiates an emotional connection. I want you to know that I understand," her voice was barely above whisper. He was surprised at what she was saying.

"I love you," she said before he could respond and closed the door, not wanting to hear a response or even see his face. The evening had culminated all the things she had been feeling for couple of years and had brought to the point where declaration was the only outcome. She had felt that she was losing him to a feeling that wasn't directed to her and she wasn't willing to take the chance of waiting to see it playing out in open. She had seized the opportunity when it was presented by the man himself and hoped that he returned her feelings.

Maan, on the other side of the door, had his mouth hung open with guilt plummet his stomach. He slowly walked back to his room and in a catatonic state fell on the bed, on his back, and replayed the events of past weeks. Had this incident happened few weeks ago, would his answer be different?

Because everything Sasha believed he lacked and at one point even he believed he lacked, had now been out in open, gushing and swirling with someone else. The implication hit him hard.

Chapter 11: Mere dil bhi kitna pagal hai...

Saturday, traditionally, had always been great day for her. It marked the start of full-on family time when she shopped and cooked and cleaned along with her sister. She spent an extra hour at the temple on both days of the weekend cooking in their kitchen and served the hungry during lunch. Though things in their family had become strained after Pinky's wedding failure, they still got together as a family and kept a momentum going.

However after Wednesday, the last place she wanted to be was home. After an initial set back she had managed to pick herself up and become her charming self. She played the part of a perfect daughter - a standard set by an archaic society and responded to the guests. The prospective groom had asked her only one question for which she had to sum up all the willpower to blatantly lie. 'Yes, I would be a home maker.' The truth was, she wanted to be a homemaker and also a woman with a career; maybe not a stellar one but where she could spend eight hours a day in learning, discovering and do something she liked. After the guests left, she had ensured that she wouldn't make any eye contact with her family or initiate a conversation with them. Ache had settled in corner of her heart when her parents and her aunt single minded pursued to get her married off as soon as possible.

"Why?" She asked her father the next day after a long day at work. "Why do you want me to get married to a guy who obviously doesn't want me to work in future?"

"Geet..." Her father's sentence was cut by her aunt.

"He is a good guy and they are good family." Her aunt's voice was blunt but was to the point. Geet smiled thinly without humor. The guy's parents had made it conspicuously clear about the high regards they had for traditions and old school thoughts about women in general. They had admonished Geet for her act in Pinky's wedding which left a bitter taste in her mouth. They were clearly unhappy with her persona but they were ready to accept her as a part of their family.

She didn't understand their contradiction of rejecting morals but accepting the person who upholds them. They were exactly similar to her family in that aspect.

"Pinky is my older sister. Shouldn't she be married first?" She asked.

"She would have if you hadn't butted in," her aunt grumbled loudly. This time, the verbal slap didn't hurt her as much as she had anticipated it to.

"Why can't it be Pinky father? If the guy is good and the family is also good, then why can't Pinky marry the guy?" She asked in one breath. She was met with silence as her father avoided her eyes. Her mother went back to cutting vegetables but the small shiver in her hands when the question was thrown out in open gave her all the indication she needed.

"Pinky isn't suited for the guy. You are," her aunt's voice had a strange clinically disassociated ring to it. Geet looked at her aunt mutely without knowing how to refute that argument. She wondered if the alliance to her sister was rejected because she was left at the wedding pyre alone.

"You will be married in three months. And that's that." Her aunt gave her one last look and walked out of the living room leaving the parents and their daughter behind.

"Father..." She looked at the man she had come to accept and respect as father since she was five years old still couldn't look her in the eye.

"It's best for all of us Geet." He said and followed his older sister's exit. Without another word her mother too followed him.

She was left alone with her thoughts, emotions and feelings in their living room and suddenly she felt as if she was left alone in the world. She went back to her room and saw Pinky reading an old magazine. Their house wasn't large enough to not to hear what's going on in family room. It pinched her when Pinky didn't acknowledge her presence but continued to read the magazine. She sighed and laid on bed without changing out of the clothes she wore for work.

She closed her eyes and finally abdicated the feeling she had been fighting since previous afternoon. She turned her back at Pinky so that the tears that formed in her eyes would remain hidden from her sister. She had gone to work in morning fully knowing that he wouldn't be there. The residue of his presence was all over the work place and more than once, she had looked up at the glass structure as a habit. His absence resonated loudly around her making the space she was in, void.

She missed him. And she had accepted that fact the moment he told her that he would be gone for close to four days.

Rain splattered across her window on gloomy Saturday morning and all the usual weekend plans were put to rest. She usually woke up an hour or two later than usual work days and that Saturday was no different from the previous ones. However it was due to the fact that she was tossing and turning for most part of the night, her dreams haunted by shadows of unknown stranger and being left alone in a strange world. She had shouted 'Maan' several hundred times till her voice went hoarse and her throat bled. Yet, he hadn't come. The dream had felt very real and very scary and she had gotten up from half asleep state with his name on her tongue. She had immediately checked to see if Pinky had heard her and to her relief she was met with a soundly sleeping Pinky.

Sleep hadn't come after that and in the darkness of the night and warmth of her blanket, she accepted to herself that she was really, really attracted to him. And this time it wasn't a school girl crush but something much serious and much complicated.

For once, she had surrendered to the dream of being accepted by him and slipping into his embrace under a full moon night. Unknown warmth had flooded with that dream and sleep had finally taken her deep into its womb.

She sat on portico floor watched rain cleanse and wet everything in its wake. It was already early evening and the rain was a constant chatter for most part of the day. Her thoughts were disturbed when she heard a discussion about her and the alliance between her father and her aunt. Couple of days earlier, her father had said that her marriage was best for everyone. Something was permanently stuck in her throat when her father had said like that. Her entire life was going to get changed and her individuality would probably be permanently damaged if she was to marry the guy yet her father hadn't considered that in his response.

She stood up and walked inside the house and stood in front of her aunt and father who stopped conversing seeing her come.

"I don't think..." She started but couldn't bring herself to complete it. Her father understood what she wanted to say but he didn't dare utter it in open. It would trigger arguments and discussions where he would be looked upon by two different parties to intervene and support them.

He knew that for once, he wouldn't be able to support Geet. And the thought scared him.

"Your wedding is in three months," her aunt said looking straight at her.

"Tell me why?" Geet asked her father looking at him and ignored her aunt.

"I already told you..."

"I am not talking to you," she said, half yelling. "This is between my father and me. And I have to know the answer." She said adamant about her request. Her father looked at her and saw a strong young woman seeking truth. In all fairness, Geet's question did demand an answer.

"Do you want me out of your lives?" She asked tonelessly.

"Geet!" It was her mother who had yelled her name from kitchen.

"Am I wrong?" Geet asked her mother in a monotone.

"We want you to marry the man because he rejected Pinky." The answer wasn't expected one.

"How is this okay mother? Have you ever thought how Pinky would feel when you pull of a stunt like this?" She thundered.

"We were living in humiliation every day. We cannot afford to be choosy about what we want and what we don't, Try understanding that Geet. You started it all and as elders we will do everything we can to fix it." Her mother said.

"If I do get married to the guy then my sister would feel insulted every time she would see me or hear me or even think about me. Have you ever thought of that?" Geet's voice had lost the earlier edge and now it was just exhausted. Her mother looked at her unable to respond. Regret flashed across the older woman's face and Geet witnessed it.

"I wish for once you thought about Pinky than thinking about yourselves." She said in a defeated tone and walked back to her room. She stopped before she entered the room.

"I know you want me to marry the guy for all yours sake but I am not going to marry him at the cost of my sister's pride." She said and walked inside.

Brushing off her tears, she changed her clothes and picked up her bag. Without caring to braid her hair, she scurried out.

"Where are you going?" Pinky asked hurrying behind her. She had heard the entire conversation Geet had had with their mother and felt incredibly proud of little sister. "Geet, please stop." She begged. Geet complied at her request.

"I am going to office. Don't wait up, I might be late." She said and took a step outside. The mild drizzle soothed her warm cheeks and she broke into a run to avoid complete drenching. After deciding to take an auto instead of bus, she reached office in record time. She ran past security flashing her badge so that she could get out of rain soon. Once at her desk, she allowed herself to relax in warmth of office and the silence it offered.

She knew that truthfully she liked being where she was because she associated that space to him and her. Her cubicle witnessed their interaction and held the words exchanged between them in its walls. She closed her eyes and let her rationality succumb to fantasy for moment. She could smell his mild aftershave, rustle of his crisp suit, soft footfalls of his leather shoes and the essence of him surrounding her. The worries left her muscles and her face relaxed into an easy smile. She opened her eyes and booted her computer.

For now, she would forget everything that happened at home and work on the risk model. It was the only way she knew to keep a check on her sanity.

*****

"You have been awfully quiet since last night," Sasha said looking at Maan who was typing on his laptop. It was glorious Friday afternoon which had the two of them sitting in a caf. "Our work is done for the day Maan," she instilled whining to put across a point.

"I have to finish this email Sasha," he said softly not looking at her.

"Please don't do this to me," she said, her voice pleading. Maan looked up from laptop surprise evident in his eyes.

"What are you saying Sasha?" He asked not understanding what she was saying.

"Don't start ignoring me after what I said last night," she said, her eyes covering with thin layer of water.

"I am not ignoring you Sasha," he said in a placating tone.

"Stop patronizing me and tell me honestly," she said and wiped an errant tear that had managed to escape her eyes.

"Tell you what?" He asked clenching his teeth fully knowing what she was insinuating.

"Do you love me?" She asked without beating around the bush anymore.

"Sasha..." He didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to respond. The realization had come to him the night before that the person he wanted to tell that to wasn't Sasha.

"Answer yes or no," she stopped him.

His throat constricted by the look on her face and without finding a voice to give her response, he shook her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed several times trying to contain the hurt that was trying to burst out in tears. After several moments she regained her composure and became the woman he always admired her to be. Admiration - he would always accept. Attraction - there was ample amounts of it. Love - definitely not. He was very sure of that.

"I knew that was going to be your answer, you know?" She said opening her compact and started to brush her cheeks. He didn't reply to that. He wondered why she wouldn't go to rest room to get powdered. Once satisfied with that, she reapplied the lipstick and glossed it once over. She angled her head to check her overall appearance in compact mirror and when she felt it was good, she snapped the compact shut.

"Generally you are mouthing this and that but when truth really hits you, you go quiet." She said looking at him plaintively. Again, he didn't respond. "I know you don't love me because if you had, you would have shown it in your eyes and I would have known." She replied and offered him a soft smile and stood up. He looked puzzled.

"Shall we go to National Gallery in the morning tomorrow? It's Saturday and it's our last day here." She asked picking her bag. He didn't understand what was going on.

"I am sorry Sasha," he apologized standing up. "We are going to take a flight back tonight. I was going to tell you that soon," he said biting his lower lip. She looked at him passively and tried not think too much into it. But the answer for his urgency was half part her and half part realization.

"Do you mind if I stayed here in London for another week?" She asked him suddenly. She now knew where his heart was and she wasn't going to stick around and witness her own heartbreak. Once back, the pattern of events would play out in a way which would only make her heart ache and loneliness pronounced.

"Of course you can. But why do you want to spend a week here?" He asked her confused at her reaction.

"I need a vacation Maan and a change of pace. I will stick around and see how things are done here. If that's okay with you," She asked him hoping that she would be given what she was asking for.

He finally understood what she was actually saying. He sighed and pulled her into his arms. She held him tightly fully knowing that this was the last time she would be holding him as her boyfriend. The decision had become evident the night before when they were strolling next to the river and his answer now only cemented the fact.

"I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore," she whispered in his ears. Her voice choked up and she let out a sob holding him tighter. "I am the one who said I was your girlfriend and now I am the one who is breaking up with you."

"I am sorry Sasha," he whispered in her ears and held her. His respect for the woman in his arms increased tenfold for doing what she did.

She had let him go.

Once out of his arms, she smiled at him and waved a goodbye. He smiled at her and watched her till she disappeared out of his sight.

He packed his stuff on table and made way towards his hotel. He had a flight to catch.

The thought of going home brought a face in front of his eyes and he smiled warmly at that.

Chapter 12: Mera chand mujhe aaya hai nazar...

It was late afternoon when he arrived home after a nine hour flight without a wink of sleep for close to thirty hours. He was famished, hungry and irritable. He knew the house would be empty as his sister, grandma and his brother-in-law would be visiting their ancestral home. On any other day an empty house would be his beloved haven but the long journey made him wish to talk to his sister.

"I am home," he whispered softly as he walked inside the house after the door was opened by one of his staff member who mumbled a stale 'welcome home, sir'.

The fey sense of restlessness which had enveloped him the moment he had stepped out of the office few days ago came back tenfold and obtruded upon his senses. The made up rationalization for the string of events had drilled down to the sharpest conclusion he had ever arrived in his life. The death of his parents was a certainty he had accepted for more than two decades yet the void they left behind almost made him a voyeur whenever he saw a happy family of four.

As he passed his parents' life size painting hung on the wall for them to watch over the legacy they had left behind, he noticed that his mother's expression had turned a little smug. He stood in front of them and raised an eyebrow at the reflection of his mother he thought he saw.

"In love, are we?" He heard her ask and his father chuckle. Rationality advised him that the paintings weren't talking but it was his mind playing silly tricks. Was it loneliness or simple obtuse and obnoxious expectation of mother figure which made him shove the rational answer from a cliff and embrace the notorious fantasy one? He didn't know and for once, he didn't care.

"Why do you say that?" He asked sitting on stairs, his back on railings. He cocked his head to his left as it rested on the smooth curve of railing giving him a long side view of the painting.

"Oh please," his mother huffed. "I can smell love a mile away," she mocked.

"Is this what it is?" He asked resting his elbow on his knees and supported his chin at the base of his palm. His stature was incredibly innocent - as if a little boy was learning his first ever lesson in life.

"It could be that or severe jet lag," his father's deep baritone commented before his mother could respond. The laughter that followed made him chuckle at the older man, a reflection of Maan himself.

"Don't listen to this man beta. I think you are in love that girl from office," she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"How do you know that?" He asked the same question again. Before his mother could respond, he added, "And please don't give me wooly answers of 'I know' or any other long winded emotional drivel." He rubbed his tired face with the hand that was supporting his chin and mutely wondered if it was love or sheer psychosis that needed urgent medical attention.

"Maan," he heard his mother say. He looked up to see her looking at him with an expression he had never seen on a woman before. Is that how mothers looked at their sons with all the unconditional love and affection that only they could muster? A pang of anguish pummeled to his stomach when it struck him that it never happened to him in real.

"Love is a million things and love is nothing. It can be the first gasp of air a drowning man takes after being under water for several minutes. It's in the gentleness of the moment when a mother hears the first heartbeat of her baby. It's in his relinquish when a man rips of his heart by letting his lover go to the one she loves. It's in the first tremor in your fingertips when your hands brush against hers and you realize that it's going to happen for the rest of your life." At the last part, she threaded her fingers' with her husband's - Maan's father and the two smiled without looking at each other. "It's in growing old, sharing towels, raising kids, stealing kisses behind grown up children's back, holding hands when first grandchild arrives, dying knowing that there is someone waiting for you on the other side." The timber in her voice eased the tension between his eyebrows. The setting sun brought a whisper of wind inside the house and carried the fragrance of the flowers he dearly grew.

"Love is you and her - the dynamics, the chemistry, the words, the story, the poetry, the cinema, the tragedy and the love story, the comedy and the drama, the music that you create, the orchestra that you perform, the dance that you celebrate and in a nut shell - the life that you lead." His father added. "I don't know what love is. But I believe that it looks a lot like your mother," he said.

"Does it answer your question?" His mother asked noting his silence.

Maan simply smiled.

"I will take a shower and go to office for few hours," he said standing up.

"It's a Saturday beta, she won't be there," his father said gently.

"I think you are wrong dad," he said noting the surprise on his parents' faces. "I think she will be there," he said and waved a goodbye.

He whistled an upbeat song that Sasha played in car while he showered and dressed. While climbing down the stairs, he blew a kiss at his parents' painting fully embracing the fantasy meeting he had had with them an hour before. They were always alive in his heart and that was his life's biggest dogma.

He didn't know what he would say when he met her. He didn't know what would happen after he met her. He didn't know what he was expecting out of the meeting he believed it was going to happen.

For now, all he wanted was to see her.

****

Disappointment slashed his stomach when he saw her empty seat.

'I was sure...so sure...' his heart hammered in his chest and this vision swam. The wretched claws of disappointment quavered the fleet of emotions that he had held in check since the moment of actualization of his feelings. He gasped for a breath as his lungs taciturnly opposed at the idea of hopes been shoved inside in great speed. He crouched when the exhaustion, lack of food and the bleak emptiness of the cubicle resonated with her absence doubled him over. After several deep breaths he slowly opened his eyes and supporting his entire upper body weight on his knees, he lifted himself up.

And then he saw. Her bag fallen on the cubicle floor orphaned without its mistress.

He felt it then. The joy of listening to the first heartbeat of one's child, the relief felt when a fresh lungful of air after fighting lack of oxygen, the freshness when first sip of cool water after playing cricket for several hours in hot sun, happiness that warmed one's heart when an evening is spent with best friends, the trust when one readily took the hand offered to them during mountain climbing over ravines, the affection when a young girl pushes an extra straw in a bottle of coke and shares it with the guy she has a crush on and the feeling of contentment that only her company offered him. The last one was just her and only her.

It wasn't one feeling that comprised of what he felt for her. The complexity of all had reduced to a singularity where entropy didn't exist and it was simple in its offering.

"Maan," he heard her call out to him her voice heavy with surprise.

"Geet," he said dropping the bag on table and slowly turning around.

The sight he met with summarized every obscure emotion he had felt in past few days. She stood in front of him in simple and plain clothes, her hair open and unadorned with the ornaments she often associated herself with. When she took a step further, her earrings didn't dance errant or bangles noisily proclaimed her presence. There were no shining trimmings on her dress which outlined her stature. The area between her eyebrows were bare and her eyes natural.

She was stripped off everything materialistic she associated herself with and was standing in front of him with veil fluttering when her fingers twisted and turned the edges.

She had taken a step but had hesitated to continue further as if she had to rein her heart in taking a decision which could irrevocably damage their relationship. He waited for her to say something, anything but was met with silence.

She reciprocated his small smile and saw her shoulders relax. The relief that ran on her face left a residue of smile behind which slowly morphed into joy. He broke through all layers of barricade he had himself surrounded with and in seven long steps, he was only a foot away from her.

He searched her face for hesitation and her eyes for indignity. When he found none, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She held on to him in equal urgency as he held on to her tightly. She rested her head at the crook of his neck and breathed in slowly.

"I missed you," she said in a hollow whisper. He closed his eyes at her words. The warmth that spread his heart eased the bottled up anxiety as he hugged her closer.

"I missed you so much," he breathed into her ears. It earned him a laugh as his breath tickled her and the sound of her laugh washed away the small fear of rejection that had made room in the corner of his heart.

He lifted her feet and twirled her around making her laugh louder. Their combined laugh ripped apart the silence of the office and the tiny light that shined above her cubicle witnessed the moment of pure joy.

'Love is you and I, together; us.' He finally concluded.

Chapter 13: Madhosh Dil Ki Dhadkan...

"Something good happened?" Pinky asked Geet seeing the smile that had made permanent residence on her face. "You seem...happy," she added. Geet's eyes widened for a moment. Was she that obvious to read?

"Nothing, really. I..." Geet didn't finish her sentence. She hung on the veil nervously, her eyes reflecting the protectiveness of the secret escapades of the heart.

"Anything happened at work recently?" Pinky asked, an unknown worry clenching her gut. She, like most others, worried when she felt she was being kept out of the loop. Geet's lips straightened when she felt cornered and hung her head. Stings of hair fell on either side of her head as her cheeks remembered the touch of warm hands stroking them. Faint blush covered her cheeks at the memory of gentle lips imprinting affection on her cheeks and her heart hammered in her chest. She shivered when the memories of being enveloped in strong arms haunted her and her skin remembered being bleak after separation.

"Geet?" Pinky called out her sister again when she didn't hear a response.

"Yes?" Geet snapped out of reverie.

"How is your work these days?" Pinky asked, trying again. Geet looked at her strangely. Pinky shuffled on her feet realizing that she was being unnecessarily intruding. "I mean, after what happened last week you were put off and now you seem..." Pinky didn't finish what she was saying.

"Work is good these days," Geet said finally looking up.

"Are you going to work today given how it's Saturday?" Pinky asked.

"No. I am not," Geet said shaking her head. "But one can never be sure how the day can turn out." She walked to the window and allowed the post monsoon breeze caress her tresses. Cold air stung her skin but also calmed from memories of the evening. The week she was having was great and it had been one week since Maan's return - the moment when she truly believed that her life had started.

Once the elation and surprise of seeing Maan a day early had abated, she had stepped out of his embrace and leaned on the cubicle floor. Instead of thinking, she had reacted impulsively and it had come as a surprise that he matched her enthusiasm equally.

"Sasha and I are separated." Maan said looking straight in her eyes and gauging every miniscule of her reaction. "She realized that I am in love with someone else and I agreed," he said when he saw Geet's eyes reflect a scare of rejection.

"Oh...I see...I am...glad..." Geet said forcing a smile. "I mean...she must a very nice person...right?" She said and bit her lip.

"She is a very nice person but right now she is standing in front of me and stammering," he said seriously and watched her reaction. The transformation was immediate. She snapped her head and looked at him wide eyed. Unbound and uninhibited laughter burst out of her when his words fully sunk in. Giving into her impulse for the second time that evening, she leaned over and hugged him tightly.

"I never believed you and I could be together," Maan whispered in her ear.

"I had almost stopped," she responded with a smile remembering the weeks of longing and affection that she had forcibly put a lid on. Maan shifted back and saw her face carefully.

"How long..." He asked swallowing.

"The day you stopped at my desk and helped me with the modal. A song played in the background which transcended the feeling of togetherness yet being apart. In one of those moments, I fell in love with you. I never in a million years thought that it would actually happen...because..."

"Because I am the boss and you are an employee?" Maan asked. Geet shook her head.

"Because we from two fully different and never intersecting spectrum of the society. I analyzed every possible reason why you stopped at my desk that day. I mean, there should be something that's common between us which could make us interact without having very long conversations." He pulled her to him and stroked her hair. She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes in contentment.

It was tantric state where in the two of them were bound by a spell which was being woven for several weeks from their words, interaction, glances, attraction, longing, separation, loneliness and withheld affection.

He kissed her temple and sighed. His breathed danced on her cheeks and deepened the blush.

"You make us sound like a miracle." He laughed. The trembling of his chest passed on vibration to her cheeks and it made her smile. His words made her smile. He made her smile.

"Yes. We are a miracle waiting to happen." She gushed happily.

That was a week ago yet the memories were still fresh.

Sunday was the day she saw his farmhouse away from the din of the city. She walked in garden bare feet and chased the ducks by the lake. She cooked a simple meal in the modest kitchen and they ate the food in Gazebo by the rose garden. After lunch she wandered off alone by the lake shore and when she was back, she saw him lying on his back, eyes closed and dreaming a big dream of them together. She slid quietly next to him and arranged her head in the crook of his shoulder. His arm automatically snaked her waist and pulled her close to him. They shared a dream for the first time that day. He kissed her when the last ray of sunset escaped the core and bathed the lake in a pinkish orange hue. He deepened the kiss when she pulled him closer and hid his face in her neck when it was all over breathing deeply.

She had smelled of water lily, rose from his garden and a slight tinge of his woodsy perfume.

Monday blues hit her hard when she the work drowned her in its crucible and ground her till she was tired to the bone. An anticipated cricket match had made the patrons of the office slip away an hour early making the office resemble a morgue. Sun had set and her work was near finished when he stood in her cubicle. He had taken her to a small cafe he often visited when he wanted to spend time with himself; the moderate setting and familial feel had always left him feeling wonderfully complete and he wanted to share the place with her. He held her hand next to the tea light candles and assured her of holding that hand forever - he wouldn't let a simpleton walk into her house and take her away.

She stole the wild flower presented on the vase of their table and placed it inside her journal; it would forever represent the time she felt protected.

Tuesday brought her a gift neatly wrapped on her table and waiting for her. Looking around and seeing no one, she broke into a sprint and reached is cabin in record smile. Ignoring his smile and soft 'good morning', she kissed him on the mouth and poured all her affection in it. 'It's not a big gift' He told her sheepishly seeing how the act of receiving a gift had made her happy without even knowing what was inside. 'You gave me something after thinking about me. Isn't that a big gift in itself?' Her reply had come immediately. He had pinched her cheeks then and watched her in amusement as she jumped around his cabin exclaiming about Blackberry she got as a gift.

She took a picture of him first and them together next and stared at it for several moments; it was making a moment together spent a permanent memory - the one she could revisit whenever she felt alone.

Wednesday had come with a bang with her aunt invoking the topic of her marriage. Her refusal this time was point blank and her voice was strong and calm. 'No. It was for my sister's sake before and now it's for my sake too.' She had said. A bar of chocolate with a post it attached on it had materialized in front of her and the owner stood a foot away from her. The deserted pantry became their solace and Maan kissed her cheek in haste. She squeezed his hand in reassurance and watched him go away with familiar grace. She opened the folded post-it and read the sentence which made her smile and tear up at the same time. 'Turn me into a star and wear it around your neck. When sadness tries to near you, my shine will drive it away.'

She scanned the post-it and put its image on her desktop - right next to her Goddess. She now had two things in her life she could always turn to during sadness.

Thursday made her feel more tired than usual as she fasted every Thursday. She shook her head when he offered her coffee and told him about her fast. She explained her beliefs, the cleansing she felt her body underwent and rediscover an appreciation for life. He remembered his sister then, who did something similar. He appreciated his sister for her constant beliefs and unwavering faith - in him and her God. Geet's presence merely highlighted that. He bent and kissed her and waved a goodbye and promised a dinner the next day. She winked and told him that she would bring him a surprise. Instead of going into his cabin, he went back to his house. He found his sister getting ready to go to temple. 'May I come with you today?' He asked. Anne was surprised and speechless. 'Have you started believing in this now?' She asked him as he helped her out of the car near the temple. 'No. I just believe in your faith.' He told her making her tear up. He hugged her sideways and the siblings went to the temple together and he stayed with his sister for the rest of the day.

He pocketed the packet of kumkum the priest had given him. He would put it in a box and store it in his dresser. It would remind him of the day when trust in someone had him reinvent his faith.

Friday dawned later than usual and made her reach office late. She had missed the morning ritual and the extra edge in his voice was proof enough for his anger. She sauntered in front of his office around lunch time and pushed a box in front of him. He ignored her and she patiently waited for his reaction. He growled at her patience and pulled the box towards him. The aroma of the dish wafted through his cabin and his eyes widened at the sight. She watched him eat and she silently sat and watched him eat. She took the handmade book she was hiding in her veil and placed it on his table. 'It's for you.' It was collection of emotions verbalized and inked. Her workmanship showed the dedication and hours she put into it and the neat calligraphy made him smile. 'I didn't know what else to give a man who already has everything.' She said with a smile and sprung out of his cabin in a hurry.

He sat in front of his parents' portraits and read every letter she had penned. They were her memories, longing, anger, disappointment, resentment, affection, adoration, love and...him.

Saturday which is today, held a promise.

Geet turned around from window and looked at her sister who had surprise etched on her face.

"Maan Singh Khurana has come. He said he wanted to talk to our parents." Pinky said in a hurried whisper.

Geet smiled.

Epilogue: Tere mere milan ki ye raina...

The gazebo at the edge of the rose garden in the farmhouse had come to become his favorite place in the whole world. The garden smelled heavenly and glistened under evening sun; melancholy of the day ending had the roses in gloom. He looked at the house decked in glittering lights and bright flowers - like a new bride. He sighed deeply and the now familiar loneliness clenched his heart making him slump in his seat. He breathed deeply, trying to exhale the pain of separation, the anxiety of not seeing her everyday struck him. He swallowed thickly and wiped an errant tear from corner of his eyes when reality hit him, again. He closed his eyes and let the happy memories of them together splash on his mind. The days were uncomplicated and their love was, still is, unconditional. But fate had different plans.

"There you are," he heard a voice and string of tinkering anklets. Her feet were bare, a trait old and familiar, crunched the grass beneath her feet and the rustle of her long skirt mingled with the whispers of the rose plants. "What are you doing here?" She asked him, sliding next to him and looking at intricate henna patterns on her palm.

"I am just...sitting here," he said looking at the girl, no, woman in front of him. She was two days away from being a married woman and after which...he didn't finish the thought. He cleared his throat when he saw her peering at him with a worried frown and offered her a smile. She ignored his smile and continued to look at him. "Are you happy?" He asked her softly. Her swaying legs became motionless and her eyes held all the love in the world. She looked at her open palm resting on her lap and nodded. Her earrings jingled and the tiny bells at the end of the earring, kissed her cheek.

"I am happy and I am content," she said, her voice equally soft. "Are you happy for me?" She asked him, noting the strain on his face for past few days.

He stared at the woman sitting next to him and nodded. "For some time I had forgotten that my happiness was invariably tied with yours. If you are happy, then I am." He said. "I know I sound corny, but there it is," he added making her roll her eyes. He put his arm around her pulled her to him. She easily returned the hug.

"I am going to miss you," he said, squeezing his eyes shut and breathed raggedly.

"I will miss you so much," she said, sniffing and clutching his shirt. He patted her back to calm her down even after she did, he didn't let her go. They stayed like that till then sun was set and when the first star came out twinkling, he heard it; the crunching of grass, sweet noise of anklets and sound of bangles. Just as soon as he opened his eyes, she was standing right in front of him - hands on her hips and annoyance on her face.

"Get inside the house now. Your friends are waiting for you," she told the bride.

"See you later dad!" The bride kissed his cheeks and pinched the older woman's cheek and ran.

"Don't run so fast it's your wedding day after tomorrow and for god's sake don't ruin your mehendi..." She yelled the last part to the bride who was doing exactly opposite to what she was just told. She sighed deeply and rubbed her temple. The wedding ordeal was tiring but she was enjoying every moment of it.

"Come here Geet," he said and patted the seat next to him. She walked inside the gazebo and sat next to him resting her head on his shoulder. His arms came around her and pulled her to him. He rested his cheeks on the crown of her head.

"Did you have a nice talk with her Maan?" She asked him after passing several moments in silence.

"It's...hard...you know?" He said haltingly. "She is our daughter and I think...I think I will feel that she is never ready to be married. She is my little girl..." He said chuckling softly. Geet sat up straight and looked at him.

"Maan, she is twenty nine," Geet deadpanned.

"Still...she is only twenty nine..." Maan replied sheepishly. Geet rolled her eyes. "But you have to give to us," he added. She looked at him questioningly. "We made one damn awesome kid," he grinned. She burst out laughing, pink covering her cheeks. She had gracefully accepted her age which made her look more elegant than most of her peers.

They had recently celebrated three decades of marriage - marriage which had come as a surprise to everyone. Maan Khurana, a self-made man rising from nothing to an industrialist and Geet Gupta, a young woman with gentle heart and intelligent mind from the opposite end of society had fallen in love; the grandness of which was in their subtlety. To a stranger of a passerby, the two looked like colleagues talking to each other or acquaintances exchanging social niceties. But in that chasm, lay their understanding. In those odd glances was their conversation.

Love was a decision. A promise made during a late supper, holding her hand next to blinking tea lights was materialized on a lazy Saturday. The day Maan walked in to Geet's house and made a proposition.

*****

"What is he doing here?" Pinky asked Geet who was smiling inwardly.

"He is here to keep his promise. Let's go," she replied and dragged Pinky out.

The elders of the family were already seated in living room with Maan sitting in a solo sofa and looking as if he was on a business meeting. It probably was the most important meeting in his life.

"My name is Maan Singh Khurana and I own Khurana group of companies." He said and allowed the news to sink in. Geet's aunt peered at him a bit awestruck while her parents looked at each other surprised at their guest.

"What can we do for you?" Geet's aunt asked.

"I was hoping-" he trailed and cocked his head to look at Geet who nodded at him. "I was hoping you would allow me to marry Geet." He said plainly maintaining eye contact with her aunt.

The silence that fell after that moment was thunderous. Geet's smile fell a little when there was no reaction from any of the elders.

"Why?" Her father was the first to break the silence? "Why do you want to marry my daughter?" His eyes were clear and voice strong. Maan looked at the older man and smiled who strangely reminded him of his own docile father.

"Papa..." he started.

Everyone in the room stilled. Maan raised his chin to check on Geet only to see her leaning on the door frame, eyes glistening and lips smiling.

"I can give a thousand reasons why I want to marry her. I can sit here for years and theorize why we will be happy with each other and how much we love each other. But truthfully, it's just not about me and her. It's about us; Geet, Pinky, their parents, their aunt, my parents, my sister, my grandmother, my brother-in-law and me." He said and stopped. Geet and Pinky were standing behind their parents and looking at him. Calmness had descended their living room that morning and had kept them as its hostage. The noises of the street, the shout of the vendors were all drowned in the effervescence of his words.

"What if I decline this proposal?" Her father asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I would request you to present an argument for rejecting the proposal," he replied immediately. "I don't accept answers without hearing the process with which the answer was arrived at, papa," he said sleekly and leaned back on sofa.

The older man laughed at the reply and shook his head. He looked at his sister, the eldest in the family and questioned with his eyes.

"Keep our daughter happy, beta," Geet's aunt said softly. "She may look brash but in real she is very sensitive." She added clenching and unclenching her fist. "Life hasn't been very fair to her," she said swallowing hard. Maan had simply nodded.

He had spent the rest of the morning in their home, helping her mother to cook rotis and chatted about cricket and politics with her father, sitting on porch and drinking tea. He gently teased her aunt and spoke softly with Pinky. Maan and Geet had walked around each other with familiarity - their affection wasn't a burning fire but shine of a star; cool and perpetual. He squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek before he waved good bye to everyone.

They were married four weeks later.

*****

"What are you thinking?" She asked him poking his arm.

"Memories...good ones..." He said remembering the image of her being his blushing bride. The generous white of her hair didn't diminish her beauty one bit. He tucked an errant strand behind her ears and kissed her forehead.

"We should go inside," she said standing up and pulling him along with her.

He clasped his hands on hers and they walked together, as always, hand in hand towards the house.

Day had ended, the time of twilight was nearing its end and the roses were quiet; a lifetime had passed amidst this.

They were happy. Love was them, after all.

The End.