Tere Ishq Nachaya | updated page 7, 24/12

This story is inspired by a Pakistani drama. I don't wish to state the title for fear of spoiling the main body of the story, however I will adapt the plot and characters as I wish and develop a tale of my own. In case anyone is suspicious of possible plagiarism, my inbox is free for any questions needing answers with regards to the original story.

***

1. "A perfect end to a perfect night."

They strolled along the riverbank, their footsteps in perfect rhythm with each other. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow along the path, illuminating the ground and casting shadows along the ripples of water.

His arm snaked around her waist, resting comfortably upon the cotton material of her saree. She snuggled into him, seeking his warmth, which had become her source of comfort.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"When have I ever said no to you, darling. What is it?"

"Usually, we throw a party and invite all our friends to celebrate our anniversary. Why did you decide to keep it a quiet affair this year?"

He let out a small laugh. "Oh, so Madam-ji wanted a lavish party? Dancing the night away to a little bit of Sheila, Munni, Chikni perhaps?"

"You know I don't dance anymore. Besides, I didn't mean it like that. I asked because I wanted to know what changed your mind this year."

He stopped in his steps, facing his wife and taking her hands into his own. She smiled up at him, the slight grey wisps in his hair only served to add more of a striking, elusive profile. His eyes still crinkle, she thought, as she watched him smile back at her - giving a glimpse of youthfulness and charm.

"We're always so busy with our lives, we barely get any time to ourselves. This year, I wanted it to be between us. Just me and you. It's not that I don't want to celebrate our marriage - in fact, every time I look at you I want to stand on top of the world and tell everyone how much I love you."

She playfully hit his chest. "I don't know what you see in me. I'm nothing special."

"You mean everything to me. You're my entire world," he caressed the arch of her left cheekbone. "And I want us to cement our love even further."

"What do you mean?"

"I want us to have a child."

Her smiled faded and her hands dropped out of his. She took a small step back, avoiding his eyes.

"I know it's a sensitive subject for you. And I understand. But I've waited 5 years, with a lot of patience. In the hope that someday you might bring up this topic yourself. I want us to have a family. And if you're not ready right now, then that's okay. But please, don't dismiss the idea completely. I want nothing more than to start a family with you."

She gulped, and turned back to her husband. "I really don't deserve you."

"What do you think? Will you at least start to think about it?"

How could she say no? The man who stood before her had given her a new lease of life. When she had been at her lowest ebb, broken and shattered, he had picked up the pieces and sewn her heart back together. All in the knowledge that a part of her had been left behind in the hands of someone else.

He was her everything. She saw nothing but a future with him, and she wanted to prove that she truly loved him, that she appreciated everything he had done for her and that she'd always be by his side, no matter what.

It was with those thoughts that she gave him a small nod, and a hint of a smile. He beamed brightly at her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. She wound her arms around him tightly, hearing the steady beat of his chest and knew that this was now her home, where she belonged.

***

The following morning brought sunshine over the town, yet it wasn't quite warm enough yet to parade around in a vest top and shorts just yet.

This was Geet's favourite type of weather, at her favourite time of the day. She often stood on her balcony, overlooking the sea. Draped in her shawl, she would await his arrival and give some much needed time to her thoughts.

Right on cue, he arrived, fresh from his morning walk.

"Good morning my love," he said as he came to stand beside her.

"Good morning. Did you have a good walk?"

"Very refreshing, although it would be better if you came with me. I would feel less lonely."

She looked up at him and smiled. "You know how lazy I am in the mornings."

"If that's the case, then I think I'll have to adapt your laziness so I can stay with you."

"Absolutely not. A walk is good for the mind, I don't want to drag you down with my bad habits."

"There's nothing bad about you," he came and wrapped his arms around her. "My perfect woman."

"Careful, I'll get diabetes if you continue with your sweet nothings." She stepped out of his arms. "I'll make us breakfast."

***

He smiled at his wife rushing around in the kitchen, trying to complete endless tasks at once. He always offered to help, and she always declined, stating that she wanted to prepare breakfast for him solo, so he could start the day having eaten from her hands.

"Is there anything funny?" she asked as she set out the breakfast tray in front him, taking her orange juice for herself.

"Now I know why you don't come with me for morning walks. The rushing around in the kitchen is exercise in itself."

"It's my duty," she said, placing her hand on her chin and shooting him one of her signature smiles. "What's the plan for today then?"

"Office duty until 4pm, then I need to go and see a client to finalise some papers. Yourself?"

"The usual."

He put his toast down and looked at Geet carefully. "I've been thinking. Why don't you resume dancing?"

Her cereal spoon dropped from her hand into her bowl.

"I know it's something you don't enjoy doing anymore. But it was a passion of yours. You could teach people from the complex, it would keep you busy."

"No."

"But being at home all the time, it's not good for you-"

"Look, I said no. If you want to argue with me, I'll take my breakfast and have it elsewhere-"

She stood up to leave, but he grabbed her hand.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"I manage the house and whatever time I have spare, I'm lost in my husband's thoughts. I'm perfectly preoccupied, trust me."

She touched his jaw tenderly and went back to her breakfast. He glanced up at her to find her eating, but her eyes were focused someplace else and she seemed lost in her thoughts once more.

***

"Geet, there's a letter for you," he called as he placed the post on the kitchen counter, and took his mug of coffee out onto the balcony. She emerged from their bedroom, taking the letter with her as she joined her husband.

"I wonder whose letter this is," she said, opening the envelope.

"You must have a secret admirer," he joked.

The first word had knocked her for six. His writing was the same, an elegant yet illegible scrawl. She had proudly bragged of her ability to be able to decipher his words when little others could.

As she continued reading the letter, her hands began trembling and tears spilled from her eyes. He noticed her distraught state and asked her several times what was wrong, but she remained speechless.

"Geet, please tell me what's happened. Who's the letter from? I'm getting really worried now."

"Maan..." was all she was able to rasp out. She thrust the letter into her husband's hands and fled inside, sobbing into her shawl.

***

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Its so beautiful ❤️ Geet and her husband's relation is full of understanding , full of empathy ❤️

but then I thought that was Maan until she read the letter ... *Jeez*

excited to read this . Geet married to someone else .. ! Continue soon ❤️

2. He sat on the plastic white chair, surrounded by the white walls of the hospital. Everything was so white, clear, his eyes burned and his head ached.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back against the wall, to relieve himself of the pain momentarily.

"Mr Khurana?"

The peace shattered.

Maan stood up, his jacket folded over his arm as he followed the doctor into the consulting room.

***

"How long have I got left until my death?" he asked.

This took the doctor, a Mrs Neetu Kolikar, by surprise.

"Usually my patients ask me how long they have left. And you're asking me how long until your death?"

"My life ended five years ago. I have nothing to live for. I'm just a body, laden with pain and grief. I want to be relieved from this suffering. I want to die."

"Mr Khurana, this is not the attitude."

"Please, just tell me how far the tumour's spread."

"You're not at a critical stage, however I want to prescribe you with a stronger dose of medication. This should help relieve the pain. I'll book an appointment, I want you to see me again in five days and we can discuss it further."

He simply nodded, got up and left. Dr Kolikar shook her head, watching the soulless man leave her office. She wondered what game destiny had played that had left a successful film producer depressed and dying alone of a tumour.

***

Geet sat curled up on the sofa. Her eyes lingered over his words as his voice came drifting into her head:

Geet.

I know you never wanted to hear from me again, but I couldn't live any longer without telling you. I realise this is unfair and improper of me, but you have been on my mind since the day you left and I needed to tell you before it was too late.

I have a tumour. Terminal. I've been given six months to live, yet I feel like I died a long time ago. Geet, I'm lonely and I'm suffering and if there's still a place for me in your heart, then you'll fulfil my final wish. To see you one last time before I die. To repent for my sins, to explain myself if I can and to remember your face before I close my eyes and finally leave this world.

I will await your reply.

Maan.'

Dev sat beside her, watching the myriad of emotions dance on his wife's face. Finally, she closed her eyes and the tears streamed like a waterfall down her face. He cocooned her into his embrace; she grasped onto his shirt, feeling like her lungs were closing up with the shock and grief.

"You should go to him."

She looked up at him from under her lashes. He ran a hand over her tightly wrapped bun, the hair almost sticking to her head. He remembered a time when her curls had been wild and vivacious, the time when she was with Maan.

"He's dying. And he needs you."

"But I need you. And you need me. I'm your wife."

"He still loves you."

She looked down.

"And I know that somewhere in your heart, he's still there. I've always known that, and I accept it."

"I'm scared, Dev. Despite everything that he did, I can't see him like this, weak and fragile. What if I..." she trailed off, but he understood.

"Do you trust my love? Do you believe in your love for me?"

She nodded.

"Then I have full faith in you. Nothing will happen, because I know that my Geet will return where she belongs, with me."

"Why don't you come with me?" she suggested, but he shook his head.

"You need closure from him. And he needs it from you. I'm giving you my permission. I'll book a flight for tomorrow, and you can leave first thing."

"Dev, I can wait a week or so-"

"What if it's too late?"

She fell silent, not wanting to contemplate the worst.

"I'll never forgive myself if I don't see him one last time," she whispered.

"I know. And I'll never forgive myself for not letting you go." He took her hands into his, clasping them tight. "I'll be waiting right here for you, as always."

***

It was a restless night for Geet Singhania. When she awoke the following morning, she was in a state of panic and fear and refused to go.

"Geet, what made you change your mind?" Dev asked as they sat beside their pool outside. She watched the ripples of the water, then she suddenly turned to him, her eyes red and sore from crying.

"He's lying. He's lying to us. He isn't dying. It's a pretence, a drama, to lure me back."

"He hasn't said a single word to you for five years. Why would he do this now?"

"To throw me off guard," her lower lip trembled, and Dev knew that she didn't believe what she was saying, she just needed an escape from facing the harsh reality.

"He can't die," her head dropped into her lap as her body shivered, and he felt a tug on his heart, seeing the depth of the love that she still harboured for him. He had known that she loved him when he married her, and he knew that she loved him now, but he wondered if her grief would be as deep and overpowering if he were in Maan's position.

Then he scalded himself for being selfish in such a difficult time, and instead diverting his attention to convincing her.

"Geet, remember what you said to me last night? That you'd never be able to forgive yourself? I don't want you to spend the rest of your life under a blanket of sorrow and regret."

She faced away from Dev, letting his words sink in. Deep down, she knew he needed her and she knew she had to go to him, for the last time. Wiping away her tears, she composed herself and told him that she was heading off to pack her belongings.

***

A day later, she found herself in a taxi, heading towards his residence. Her stomach was in knots and she kept clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to calm her frayed nerves down.

She wondered what he looked like. Was he wheelchair bound, skin pale, body limp, confined to a countdown of his final days? Was he still active, trying to hold it all together behind a carefully constructed mask? Was he bed ridden, surrounded by nothing but his medications, seeking a companion to ease his loneliness?

Her answers arrived sooner than she thought; the driver pulled up and a wave of nostalgia came flooding through her as an array of memories came rushing back. Gulping hard, she waited as the driver unloaded her suitcase from the boot, paid him his fare and then she was left alone at the front gate, her mind and heart torn between a rock and a hard place.

He saw her, walking up the driveway, looking forlorn and tense. Her curls were no longer curly; the auburn hair had been tightly wrapped into a bun. Her face had aged slightly, there was no longer a youthful spark in her eyes but there was contentment and security locked behind her gaze. She wore a dark brown shawl wrapped around a dark blue saree, plain in all its embroidery.

Maan let out a bated breath. Five long years and he had envisaged her coming back to him one day. She was finally here.

Geet stopped at the door when she saw Maan emerge from behind the corner. Her eyes scanned the gaunt frame, the greying beard, the lifeless hair. His eyes were dark and so full of sadness and remorse that she had to look away.

He assumed she was disgusted by coming face to face with him after all that had happened. Turning away, he went back to the worktop where he had been cradling a cup of coffee.

She placed her suitcase down beside the door, closing it shut behind her. Geet watched him as he turned away from her; a cup of coffee sat away from him, he appeared to be holding another.

With all the composure she had, she carefully spoke. "Did you have a guest?"

Maan wiped away the tears from behind his glasses and turned around to face her.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just that there's another cup of coffee there. I assumed you'd had a visitor, or maybe someone was here with you."

"It's yours." He stood up, taking her cup of coffee and holding it out in front of her. Geet was taken aback as flashbacks of their previous life came back to her. She looked up at him, searching his face for an explanation.

"Every morning, I make two cups of coffee, like I always used to when you were here. The only difference is, now I drink your share as well as mine."

She blinked back her sudden tears and forced herself to look away. "I don't drink coffee anymore."

My heart is already breaking😭🥺

I dunno what you will do but seeing Maan I feel so sorry . Hope Geet forgives him and really wish he recovers

I am already crying 😭