SS : Handa- The Loner, Part 13 Pg 35[19/03/19] - Page 15

The disappointment of the night had finally began to seep in and a curtain, of color black had started enveloping him.

He felt the strong fingers of loneliness close around his throat. The fingers traveled to his heart now. And they were squeezing the beats out of it. This apartment, the large bed he was sleeping in, he hated all of it.

Was he so unlikable? His presence so repugnant? If he died today, would anyone grieve over his loss?

A continuous chirping of birds, the ring of his door bell broke through the grief. He blinked the tears away. A flick of his arm switched on the lamp, the light chasing away some of the darkness. He stared at the ceiling adjusting his breathing. Putting himself out from the bed, he slipped into his slippers.

By the time he answered the door, the jovial mask was back. But when he saw who the visitor was, he knew the mask was useless.

She had long sharp nails and with those nails, she liked clawing at his mask. And she was ferocious while doing so. So much so that last time, she had made him bleed. Just because, he had been kind to her. She hated any signs of humanity and her aim was to burn and bury anything human. Most of all she hated him.

"Ms.Handa?" Why was she here? Done gallivanting with that guy of hers?

She shifted her weight from one foot to another.

"This late?"

Her usual impassive face bore an expression nervousness that she hadn't been able to hide. But it didn't take her long to throw a cloak over it.

When silence stretched far too long between them, he finally blurted, "Is everything alright?"

He couldn't be like her so there wasn't any use of pretending. He was worried truly.

She swallowed and then after a few beats of silence, replied, "May I come in?" It had been painful to speak those four letters. Her hands were by her sides and the uncertainty of her words traveled to him through the sight of her clenched fists.

"I am not sure whether I should allow you to." He resisted but his actions defeated his words.He had already moved aside from the door to let her in.

Instead of getting inside she produced a piece of note from her cardigan's pocket. It was scrawled in cursive.

"I think, this should make process of decision easier."

He went through it and then laughed out straight. She had signed a declaration that she wasn't going to throw baseless accusations at him and malign his name. There was postscript below it written in size two fonts smaller than the main message. If you actually come onto me, then I won't abide by that declaration.

"Are you for real, Ms.Handa? I think an apology would have sufficed. But you aren't the apology types,are you?'

She set her chin high in the air.

'Come on in now.'

She didn't like the familiarity in his voice and wanted to return back to the her apartment but the winter had arrived, and her heart especially tonight felt frozen.The noises inside her head were to difficult to bear without the pills.

'It is only for few minutes,' she said to him so that he didn't get the wrong idea.

'So?' He asked as she followed her into the living room.

'So what?'

'What brings you here?'

'Couldn't sleep.'

'And?' He prompted.

'And what? There's nothing more.'

'Couldn't sleep and so you sought me out. Are you sure you're not drunk?'

'I might have had one or two cans of beer. But I'm not drunk.'

He halted in his track and turned to look into her eyes. The large brown pair certainly didn't look drunk.

The fact that people could get drunk if they looked at those devastating eyes for too long, that was a different matter altogether.

'I saw you tonight at the same bar. You were with someone. Laughing. New boyfriend?'

'An engineer turned stand up comedian.'

'Huh?'

'The guy that you saw me with. He was depressed that it was life dream to become a comedian but he messed up his first show. He was drunk and was delivering his act so I laughed at what would be supposedly punch lines.'

'To keep his heart. That's uncharacteristic of you. Cute guy?Fell in love at first sight?'

'Bitter much?' She said.

'Oh no not at all. In fact you're the one who saves all the bitterness for me.'

'Do you wish me to leave, Mr.Khurana?' She said, her body language emitting vulnerability and stiffness at the same time.

'No. No, I'm sorry. You... you're welcome. It's ..it's a pleasure to have you.'

His apartment as she entered, she noticed was not very crowded. There was a coffee table placed in the middle of the room and two metallic folding chairs kept on each side of it. Last time she had found herself here, she had been passed out and then feeling too livid and exposed to bother to check out his home.

'Sit, please.'

She put herself on one of the chairs and the cold seeped in through her cotton pants.

'Coffee?' He asked.

She shook her head.

'I don't drink coffee at nights. It messes up with my mind.'

Empty, would be the fitting term, she thought as she looked around, for hardly there was any furniture or filled shelves and decorated walls in the living room. And she was disappointed.

Why was it this lifeless and cold? Judging the man, she had thought it would be a warm and cozy place like they show in Christmas family movies. It wasn't supposed to be another apartment like hers, some bricks thrown together.

Maan felt judged as Ms. Handa's critical eyes assessed her surroundings.

'The bedroom is better,' he said and he found her raising her eyebrows at the comment and say, 'Excuse me?'

He jumped in to explain that the apartment was too big for him as a single man and he didn't have much use of the other rooms except his bedroom, so that's the only place he had put the effort to make it look good.

She again said nothing. But hope sprang up in her chest. The warmth that the man himself emanated, would she find the source of it there? Could she just check the room for once?

'I'm not making a move on you. But do you mind sitting in the bedroom? The room heater is there and it's cold here.' Until a few minutes before he had been covered under a huge quilt and now being out of it, he found himself shivering.

She waited for a few seconds before nodding her head in response.

The bedroom to her excitement, screamed of him. Warm and homely. Yes, that's what she was looking for.

The noises in her head dimmed, the brain was pursuing another purpose. Curiously, she noted each and everything about his world. What was about it that was so different from her world? Could she steal a part of it or may be borrow?

A huge upholstered bed filled with cushions and quilt, a wooden night stand next to it on which his laptop and phone along with some files lay and also comics. In another corner was placed a love seat. The nooks and the corner bore the evidence of his artsy endevours. They were too many do-it-yourself projects.

Maan stood there taking in her appearance too mystified to decode the reason of her arrival.

She was wearing a dark red boyfriend T-shirt underneath a knitted colorblock open front cardigan. And had paired it with a grey flannel pants. Her hair...

'Mr.Khurana, you're an artsy sort of person, aren't you?'

'Did you get a haircut?'

They both asked together.

The question was out of blue and took her by surprise.

'Just got a little trim. By the way that's a creepy question because it's been a week and NO ONE noticed it until now.'

'When the mood strikes,' he answered her former question and just shrugged his shoulders in response to her latest comment.

On the walls were pictures of too many things.

Birds. Animals. People. Emotions. But it was his pictures that held most of her attention. Before she could walk to take a closer look at them, he offered her to sit on the love seat.

Disappointed, she took her position. Placing himself on the edge of his bed, too uncomfortable to handle the situation, he asked, 'So, now, what do you suggest we do ?'

Hands clasped together, and her back straight, Ms Handa suggested he go off to sleep.

'It's evident, Mr.Khurana you're all ready to sleep when I knocked at your door. You can go off to sleep. I will sit here.'

Mr.Khurana, as expected of any sane individual balked at the idea.

'I sleep while you sit here. Wouldn't that be weird?'

'The talk goes around that I'm weird. If you find it uncomfortable I can sing you a lullaby. Then it won't be so weird, you sleeping and me sitting here, maybe?'

Maan laughed at her supposed sarcasm but then realized she was serious and clamped his mouth shut. Geet was getting restless. This wasn't going according her plan. If only when he goes to sleep would she be able to read his room quietly.

'Unlike you I don't sing offbeat,' she assured him.

'No,' he said.

'No?'

'I'm not sleeping. The night is long and I have an idea.' His eyes twinkled at her.

She didn't like the glint of his eyes and thought that maybe she should return to her house but her heart sank at the thought of the chaos in her mind.

'You like Raj Kapoor?' He asked stretching on his bed to get his laptop.

'I don't know. I think I've no opinion about him.'

'It's high time you formed one,' he said as he came to sit next to her.

'Mr.Khurana, I'd like you to maintain distance and not take advantage of the situation.' She scooted away from him.

'Oh come on Ms.Handa will you get over yourself, already?' And pulling his legs up, he covered both of them with the same quilt. Putting the laptop on his lap, he played the DVD that he had rented earlier in the morning. Teesri Kasam, started playing.

In the musical break, he got up and when he came back, it was with two plates of pasta. At first, she had fidgeted and wanted to push him away for making her plans go awry but soon the hammering noise in her head had slowly died away and she was lost in the new makeshift world. One that he helped create for her.

They are on the next movie. Chori Chori, it is called. He has nodded off , his head resting on the arm of the love seat. He's said he would close his eyes for just five minutes. It's been more than thirty five minutes now. So she waits for him and also waits for the sun to rise.

Meanwhile, waiting, she walks to one of the walls. There's a huge frame surrounding lines of thin wires. Pictures are clipped on the wires. She traces a finger on the edge of the picture of his family. His mother, father and him standing between them. Family. Picture perfect one. Is this the secret?

It would be difficult to imitate his bedroom then. She moves to the next picture.

He was a pretty kid, she thinks. How did he become like this? So unbearable.

Then she turns to face his sleeping profile. Walking to the seat, she sits next to him and finds herself matching her breath, with his.

1. 2. 3. Go. Rise and fall. Rise and fall. Rise and fall. In between the rises and falls, she doesn't know when, the sun also rises. And she falls off to sleep next to him.