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So, after the emotional complexities of As The Tide Turns and the utter tragedy of An Inevitable Destruction (hover over the titles for links) I present to you a much happier, light hearted one shot! I'm sure some of you will be relieved 😆
Just to give you all some background info: Geet works for Maan, who is an underworld gangster/mafia guy of sorts. Her job is to primarily take care of his son Ayaan, and this one shot explores the changing nature of their relationship.
Enjoy!
***
The Perfume
I hadn't told them about you,
but they saw you bathing in my eyes.
I hadn't told them about you,
but they saw you in my unspoken words.
The perfume of love cannot be concealed.'
Late at night, when the sun had finally set over the shadows of the city, when his son had finally been put to sleep, when the house was finally shrouded in darkness, it had been a habit for him to ponder upon various matters that were omnipresent in his life.
His underworld dealings.
The lack of loyalty amongst some of his men.
How long he would have to run and hide, run and hide, until he finally got caught.
His son, and his determination that he should be capable to stand independently should anything ever happen to him.
And her.
During the daytime, whenever he heard her mesmerising laugh, or realised that he was starting to become familiar with the tinkle of her bangles, or found himself getting accustomed to the soft voice that she used for Ayaan, he would push all thoughts aside and more often that not leave the house for better peace of mind, a distraction from himself.
But when the shadows of the night blanketed the world in its secrecy, he allowed himself to welcome the distraction of the darkness, as he lost himself in her memories.
The first time he had locked eyes with the steel determination and courage that reflected through in her own irises, he knew there was something different about her. Something which set her apart from everyone else.
To his dismay, Ayaan's immediate attachment to her and even Dadima's approval of the young girl had indirectly granted her a place into their lives. Unwillingly at first from her perspective; but fate played a strange game as she always found herself available in their hours of need and he found himself getting attracted to her like a moth to a flame.
Closing his eyes for a few split seconds, he remembered her telling Ayaan earlier in the day that it was her birthday tomorrow. He hadn't missed the forlorn look on Ayaan's face when she explained the family ritual of cake cutting that she took part in with her family.
But he couldn't forget the glow on her face when she stated that the cake cutting was nothing too special anyway, and she wished that her parents would respect her as a strong, big girl just as Ayaan was respected as a strong, big boy.
Ayaan had broken out into a 1000 watt smile then, and he had found the corners of his own mouth turning up at the childlike innocence.
He pushed himself off the rocking chair, making his way to a chest of drawers in the corner of the room. Opening the top drawer, he caressed the intricate bottle with his fingers, his eyes shining with reminiscence.
Then the drawer was closed shut, and he retired back to his rocking chair for another one of his never ending sleepless nights.
***
The next morning, she arrived again. This time, she wore a baby blue patiala suit and he noticed that her silken hair was left flowing down to her waist, adding to her already alluring aura.
He cleared his throat as he gestured silently for her to sit, and she looked up from the hem of her dupatta to his gaze. They were briefly lost in a trance, as Ayaan tentatively limped past his father to embrace her around the waist.
"Happy birthday! he said, and she smiled, ruffling his hair. He looked away, wishing he possessed the comfort and ease of his son, and then snarled to himself as he realised he was getting jealous towards his own child.
Dadima came then, offering her happy returns of the day and a life filled with God's blessings. She thanked her, and she announced that he had made aloo parathas for her, with Ayaan's help.
He remained motionless during the conversation, yet he kept his ears attuned to her every breath. When Ayaan started pulling at her hand to join them at the breakfast table, she explained that she wanted to put her bag away in his room first, before joining them. Dadima ushered Ayaan away and she brushed past him to the bedroom.
He hesitated at first, but then he hurried to his room. Opening the drawers, the bottle came out and within the next few seconds, he was in his son's room, standing behind her as she closed the button of her bag.
She turned around and almost screamed at his unflinching face glaring down at her. His hands were behind his back her eyes travelled in that direction, and he frowned.
"Do you think I have a gun behind my back?
"No, she said honestly.
"I wouldn't blame you if you thought I did.
"Well, I don't. I know my presence here annoys you, as does my bond with your son. But you love him too much to end my life, just for your own peace of mind.
She stepped aside to leave, and he would have stopped her had she not have left her bag in the room.
***
Later that evening, as she was walking home after her day job as Ayaan's nanny, Geet felt something sharp hit against her thigh with every step she took. She stopped at the side of the street, patting her bag when her fingers felt a sharp object.
She pulled her bag off her shoulders and rummaged around to find the cause of the pain when her eyes caught the sparkle of a bottle. She slowly pulled it out, holding the small crescent shaped bottle in her palm, the multicoloured hues of the glass reflecting in the dimming sunlight.
She had a hunch at who the sender was, but she double checked in her bag for anything else to confirm her suspicion. Sure enough, there was an envelope with her name across it in capitalised letters.
Slinging her bag across her body, she pulled out the small note which read:
A gift so you can treat yourself. Many happy returns of the day,
Maan.
A smile lit itself up across her face, and she tucked the letter back into the envelope, placing it gently back into her bag for fear of it being creased.
Admiring the beautiful bottle, she spritzed it twice on her skin, letting the fragrance soak into her being, before setting off again for her journey back to her home.
It seemed that although some things could not be said, the perfume of love could not be concealed.
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