~*FF-NOT just a passionate affair ~* Compilation Thread-Parts 1 To 62 - Page 7

OSR PART 54 - THE REVELATION!

PROFESSOR RAM CHARAN'S RESIDENCE

'My clip? How did it get here?' the question instantly arose - but she got no sensible answer. It was almost like her 'innate morality' was unable to assume something so dastardly. How could she even begin to suspect someone so respectable? Someone who'd GUIDED and TAUGHT her for so long? 'You're becoming as obsessed as the stalker himself ... the police have dug out plenty of clues against Maan...so, stop acting mad...sir must have just found this somewhere...' she'd hardly convinced herself when she saw another object in the drawer. An object not familiar, but an object that sucked away a few more shades from her already blanched face. Her fingers increasingly unsteady, she picked up the half-empty bottle of perfume and smelt its lid 'W...wh...' it fell off from her hands and onto the towels. The fragrance had made her sick, wringing her twisted insides even more. It smelt similar to that perfumed-card that had been slipped inside her handbag during the 1st semester exams!

'RAM SIR?' her conscience seemed to ask a million times 'Sir? A stalker? An abuser? A murderer? A pervert? How could that even...'

Rattled like never before, the young lady pondered back to recall if she'd missed any warning signs in the past? Nope. There was not ONE suggestive incident to prove that Ram sir was capable of such crimes. Then, how could she think of him as this monster - an otherwise dignified 40 year old gentleman, who was the unanimous favourite of all SRI ladies? She HAD to be mistaken. Maybe he'd discovered the clip by chance. The perfume could be a coincidence too, couldn't it?

Strangely though, the 'coincidence' theory didn't explain the worrying instincts now overruling her psyche. She glanced down at her trembling fingers. Why was she was losing faith and fortitude? Why was she turning into a nervous wreck? She glanced around. The air was beginning to suffocate her lungs. This place - the walls - the floor - the furniture - everything about it was starting to spook her 'Urgh' she instinctively covered her mouth, feeling nauseous out of the blue 'Just leave Jodha... just get out of here...before it's...'

'Hello Jodha...' his voice slowly emerged from behind - causing the hair on her neck to stand on end - just like it had when the stalker had sneaked up on her in the green room

She hastily spun around to face him, unaware of when he'd crept all the way up to her back. His evident transformation turned her features paler than death itself. The professor had acquired a whole new form - an uncomfortable form that matched the freak she'd encountered in that blasted green room three months ago. There was a sinister vein in the depths of his calm eyes. His smiles had morphed into a devious sneer. His very presence felt ominous.

With her distressed pulses now throbbing so erratically she could focus on no timely reaction - much less, a plan of action. She couldn't even hide her nervousness, forget coming up with a fancy escape strategy.

'There's a photo in there too...' he smiled, before stretching around her petite frame to grab the article from the drawer 'Here... let me get it for you...'

Startled by his chilling proximity, the skin on her face and arms prickled in fright. The scare finally spurred her frozen limbs into some form of action. She slid away - away from his eerie person. Away from the area.

Continuing to be unperturbed by any of her responses, the man darted the photo a loving glance before holding it up for her to see 'The woman standing next to me... can you see her? Do you notice the resemblance?'

Jodha said nothing. She wanted to see nothing. All she recognized was that she was dealing with a treachery worse than she'd ever imagined - that she was actually staring the devil in the eye. Her rocky steps gradually commenced reversing. In the direction that led to the door. One wobbly footstep behind another.

'This is... I mean...this WAS my wife...' he persevered on a pensive note '11 years ago... on this very date, we were married...10 years ago, on this very date I sadly lost her forever... and today, I found her again!'

She still said nothing. Her hips struck the sharp edges of the table on her way back. At one point, she tripped over a chair's leg - but, she just stood up and continued retreating. Numbly.

'Two years ago I saw you for the first time as a visiting professor at your college cultural fete...' he stayed bound to his spot, like he'd entered a trance of some sort 'I was judging some mundane quiz contest and it was only by chance that I'd laid eyes upon you ... but my, what a moment it was!' he sighed audibly 'A fresh young B.com student... president of the student council... thoroughly immersed in organizing the events... fluttering about the auditorium like an exquisite butterfly... I found myself increasingly drawn to your beauty... the spontaneous power you held over me was inexplicable... and then, I understood why... that was EXACTLY how SHE was - how my wife was - when I'd met her for the first time... efficient... determined... tenacious... vivacious... bubbly... talented... no wonder then, that I fell in love with you on that day...' taking a few steps towards the dining table, he lovingly placed the photo frame in its centre 'So deeply ingrained were you in my thoughts that I couldn't function for days following... it was torturous... you'd excavated wounds that I'd kept restrained after years and years of treatments... the schizophrenia... bipolar disorder... the manic bouts... the hallucinations... everything was spiralling out of control again...' the self-absorbed professor calmly brushed a few strands of his hair 'My obsessive thoughts grew wilder... I kept seeking information about you... lingered for weeks around your flat... bored myself to death watching faces of visitors come and go, just for ONE glimpse of you...but, nothing was ever enough... after a point, my neurosis got so bad that I actually tried convincing myself to leave the city... and just as I'd begun making plans...' he clapped his hands with a victorious beam 'Who enters the SRI office for an admissions form? YOU! You walked right into my arms...'

'G...God' she'd momentarily stopped breathing, as the true degree of her vulnerability hit her. Even though she'd known she was being stalked by a lunatic, she hadn't expected to be the victim of someone's vile infatuations for MORE THAN TWO YEARS now - and it definitely didn't make this unforeseen encounter any easier to deal with. Her hands trembling uncontrollably, Jodha shot over to grab her handbag - not knowing how he'd react. Strangely though, he didn't look too bothered.

She pursued with her flight nevertheless - not knowing if she had to be worried or relieved by his obvious inaction.

'I still dream of it vividly, you know...' his happiness seemed to know no bounds 'That ethereal blue salwar...the matching bangles...the long open hair sashaying on your hips... dressed just like her, you came right up to me - oblivious to my fixation... you asked me a few directions that morning ... greeted me with a smile... why, even your light brown eyes resembled hers... and when you introduced yourself as Jodha, my heart stopped functioning...' he took a dramatic pause 'Even the names matched... her name was Abhitha... it means fearless, just like your name Jodha means...I knew for sure then that this had to be a divine intervention of some sort...' giving in to a bout of tenderness, he ran his finger over his late-wife's face in the photo 'I had planned to leave, but YOU sought me and made me stop... in this ugly world of frivolous, greedy, lusty, materialistic people, a pure soul had finally returned... my chaste angel... till... till...' his breath noticeably quickened. The veins on his temple bulged. His teeth ground against one another, producing a grating noise of sorts 'Till that womanizer... that filthy... indecent Jalal came along and dared to take you away from me... I did all I could to warn you of his intentions, but he still attempted to corrupt you and snatch away what was rightfully mine... but, I wouldn't lose you... not again!' the grating noises ceased 'So, I resolved to fight...and won against him!'

JALAL'S OFFICE

'This is very dangerous Jalal...you could be risking your reputation making claims like this...what if he raises an uproar and summons the police?'

'Besides... us girls would know a tharki professor when we see one... and Ram sir's certainly not one!'

'And... he is Payal's uncle, to be precise...'

'Yeah! Maybe you're over-thinking this!'

'Guys!' folding his arms, he pressed his forehead in vexation 'His weakness is NOT girls... his weakness is JODHA!' he almost sounded disappointed at how his theories had no takers 'I mean... after everything I've explained... the Maan angle... the Payal angle...the university angle... you all STILL presume I'm over-thinking this?'

'Yaar' a mildly confused Abdul replied, trying to demonstrate how far-fetched the whole concept appeared - from his end, at least 'You're asking us to believe that a respectable professor has been sending texts to a student, stalking her, stalking her friends, wrapping himself in a shawl, beating up her boyfriend...' he exhaled 'Plus he's what... 40-45... you're saying RAM SIR beat the crap out of you?'

'Excuse me!' Jalal retorted, clearly offended now 'I didn't know criminals came with a pre-set profile, age and profession!' his voice tapered off into a bitter groan 'I can't explain it better than this... just that he appeared very different that day... something about the whole scenario felt abnormal and inhuman!'

'But Jalal...' Meera spoke up, albeit on a softer note - seeing how the guy wasn't his usual sportive-self 'Jodha never knew Ram sir from before...and we know the stalker mentioned he knew Jodha for long!'

'Exactly...' his eyes widened 'The text said HE knew Jodha... didn't say SHE knew him! What if HE saw her somewhere... maybe, a bus stand... a cinema hall... at her previous college... somewhere?' he waited for a reaction from them, but nah! No luck! Even his latest line of reasoning wasn't really bowling them over 'Forget it...' he flicked his palm, flustered 'Let me to talk to Jo... reason it out with her...at least I'll convince her to stop the tuition till I'm sure sir is NOT the stalker!' he glimpsed at his watch 'She must have left his place na... I'll call bhabhi if...'

'No...' Meera shook her head 'Jodha wouldn't be at sir's place...'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because sir called me on my mobile at 4:00 pm... there's no tuition today... apparently, he has to leave out of station for some important family matter...'

'What!' Jalal slowly came away from the desk he'd been leaning against and straightened up. Somehow, the whole premise struck him as odd. Unusual. He didn't know why, but he just didn't like the sound of it 'Has sir ever done this before? I mean... calling you on your mobile and cancelling class?'

'Errr...' she frowned 'No...not really'

'Shit!' he cupped his mouth as a silent form of fear set in. It took him a minute to process the facts - but by the end of it, he knew what he wanted to do and what he HAD to do 'Meera can you call Jodha's landline and find out if she's home? Or if she called them?'

'Err...' the curious lady nodded 'Sure!' as instructed, she dialled the contact thereafter and awaited a response from the Singhs. Once she'd managed to get hold of Jodha's mother on the line, the answer was with her not long after. Subsequently cutting the call, she looked up at her company - a bit more unnerved than she'd been a while ago 'Jodha isn't home yet... she hasn't called... aunty says, she must be at tuition...'

'Its 6!' he ruffled his hair, his jaw tightening up in tension 'No one's heard from her yet... I... I... I'm worried... something's not right... Abdul, Renu... chal...'

'Huh?'

'What?'

Springing across, Jalal clutched his car keys from the desk 'Meera I am so sorry, but I need to steal you today... I don't know the exact directions to his place...and I don't have the time to figure it out for myself now!'

PROFESSOR RAM CHARAN'S RESIDENCE

The texts. The wordings in the cards. The stash of medicines. The obsession. The violence. The hatred. It all made sense now. The few puzzle pieces that'd been mislaid had swiftly fallen into their right places - and the emerging picture was a very grisly one. He was insane. He NEEDED HER to fill the void in his life - thus, Jalal had become an enemy and everyone else a pawn in his ploy. When he felt no guilt for sacrificing his innocent niece to the jail wardens, he was definitely in no state of mind to reason with her now.

The only sensible course was to get out. To flee. ASAP! She better shake off the impact of the initial trauma and make a dash for it. It wasn't too late to outrun him 'Snap out of it Jodha...' many distinct voices in her head were becoming increasingly audible 'SNAP OUT OF IT! NOW! RUN!'

Literally having to haul her unstable legs so she could cover the remaining distance to the door, the lone student frantically began opening the latches. However, it was only when she tried flicking the main handle up and down did she realize that the door had been locked - with a key. A key that was nowhere in sight. When had he LOCKED it? Was it when she'd been so engrossed in that mock test? No wonder then that her kidnapper had been so composed all through!

Struggling to overlook the growing sense of desolation within, Jodha made a sweeping visual scan of the room to locate the key. The table. The side tables. The walls. The floors. Alas, she could find nothing. Driven to a point of blatant panic, she then frisked all pieces of furniture that she could lay her hands upon. The cupboards. The drawers. The bookcase. The sofa. Alas. Tough luck here too.

Where the hell had he hidden the cursed key to the main door?

'Now, you'd be wondering why I'm telling you all this...' his voice assumed a subtly ruthless tinge, as he re-slipped his hands into his pockets 'It's because, I've WANTED to share my life's tragedies with you... I want you to empathize...and I want you to become mine... to become my wife...'

'No! Don't listen to him...' she had to keep prompting herself so she could hold on to what little grit she had - so she didn't fall prey to his distressing confessions 'Don't give up Jodha... kuch aur socho...'

Letting her handbag glide off her shoulder, she surveyed her surroundings for some form of weapon. An armament to defend herself from the madman 'The kitchen' she supposed - it HAD to be a treasure-trove of sharp objects. However, on giving the notion a second thought she recognized that the plan would fail miserably. She had to cross HIM to get to the kitchen door - and with her faltering balance there was no chance she'd be able to make it through 'The books' the heavy hard-bound editions stashed on the table could make a good missile. What if she aimed it for his head? 'GO!!!' nervously heading for the table, she lifted one up and flung it at the monster. Regrettably; he didn't even have to twitch - the book fell quite short. Her spirit refusing to surrender, she wrangled with another one. Garnering all of her might, she hurled it right across - and then another - and then another. Regardless, they all just kept falling short and shorter. Somehow, she didn't have the stamina to keep up with this after a while. Panting aloud, she fruitlessly chased further options - much like a drowning man would when holding on to a straw to stay afloat

'Please give me strength Ma...' picking up a large glass vase from a side table, she heaved it at him - aiming it as close to his head as possible. Yet; the only target the vase struck was the floor - thus shattering its body into a million pieces.

'Save your energy, my darling...' his disturbingly-smooth echo resonated across thereafter 'I haven't even started yet...'

'Nooo' with her lungs now starting to break out into a steady wheeze, she dragged her wilting form towards a shut window nearby. What if she used the windows to raise a distress signal? What if she screamed for help? What if someone overheard her cries and knocked the door? 'Yesss...' standing tall, she tried to undo the window latch. Unfortunately, it didn't budge'COME ONNN... you can do it...' she invested more effort, but that merely ended up depleting her dwindling energy reserves further 'Ditch it... go to another one' prodding her exhausted self, she followed a similar routine on the next window - only to see the same story repeat 'Why can't I open a simple latch?' the surmounting emotions burst out into a volley of tears. The crux of her escalating frustrations - of her impending helplessness - of her mounting terror ultimately simmered over 'Open up... you rusty latch... open...' she seethed, but her fingers slipped once more. Halting in her tracks, she studied her uncooperative hands through moist eyes. Why did they look unfamiliar? Why did they feel like an attachment? Of rubber or plastic?

'Jodha! STOP wasting time...' abruptly prompted by a dire call, the young lady battled to come up with an alternative plan 'Try something else... QUICK!' utilizing what little strength her body had, she moved over to the patio-terrace doors. However when the latches atop those doors ended up being just as stubborn, her actions launched into an erratic rage thereon. The hopelessness that took over wasn't easy to ward off. She banged the glass, wailing out to people on the roads - people who were no more than distant specks in the horizon 'HELLLPPP HELP ME... HELPPP... PLEASE...SOMEONE...' she banged and banged and banged - but to no avail. After all, who would notice a lady trapped behind a glass door of an apartment? That too, a rear-facing apartment situated on the third floor of some random building? Yet, she banged and banged and banged till the pounding sounds in her head became louder than anything else. Till the dizziness was much too prominent to avoid. Till her deadened feet had become too weak to support her own weight.

Ultimately rendered immobile, Jodha plonked down on her spot 'I...I...' she tearfully rasped, devoured by anguish 'I can't give up... but... what else can am I to do... the...the...' a second later, a plausible idea struck her giddy mind - the only ray of hope her losing battles had for then 'The landline...' she glimpsed up, wearily. The phone felt like it was miles away 'Go...Ambe Ma is with you... grab it before he can stop you... go...go...now...' powerless to even stand up by that point, the obstinate young lady clambered on all fours in order to get to the side-table. Compelled to crawl over a few broken shards to reach the other end, Jodha minded not the vase fragments that had lodged into her palms or her dress. She focussed her hazy sights on the phone alone. Once she'd managed the herculean feat and made the journey, she hung onto the surface of the table and seized the instrument for herself.

It was when the phone toppled down onto the floor and she lifted the receiver thenceforth that any remaining optimism, died an instant death. There was no line. The phone wasn't even connected!

Strewn on her spot, a spent Jodha stared at the whirlpool-of-a-room she was engulfed in 'Nooo...' she wept, as she realized how wildly the furniture and floor had started floating around her 'This can't be happening... w... w... what if I go to a room and lock myself in?' briefly wrestling with her mind to muster some will, she wrestled with her body to prop her torso up - but the despair in her mind and the chemicals in her body had sucked ALL life out of her. Her rubbery bleeding hands finally gave up their ghost. She slumped down on the floor lifelessly.

Then, she heard his footsteps. Circumventing the poky bits of porcelain lying around, his strides stopped just beside her face. She didn't even need to look up to catch the confident smirks on her captor's face. She had the answer already. She'd been drugged - just like she had been many months ago! Only this time her predicament was worse. Infinitely worse. Worse than even being jumped by an unknown assailant in a dark room. There was none to call out to for help. There was no Jalal waiting outside for her in a car. There was none who'd miss her presence - at least for an hour more. She was truly all alone. Trapped, drugged AND at the complete mercy of a maniac!

'Y... you?' her faint voice murmured through a bout of laboured coughs 'It... it was you... you drugged me that day at the convention centre too...'

'It was Valentine's day...' the stalker's composed explanation arrived soon after 'Another day that used to be very special for my wife and I... I had hoped to make you mine then...' he knelt down so she could see the expressions on his face 'I'd tipped the waiter... my car was ready... I had it all planned... but, that bas***d Jalal had to ruin it all... he wasn't even supposed to attend the fair... anyway, the dosage I've given you today is a bit stronger...'

'Please...' folding her frail palms as a last ditch attempt, she pleaded to the best of her ability 'I beg you... you have it all wrong... you need help... I am your student... not your wife...' her sobs steadily died down 'I am 15 years your junior... I am your niece's friend...like a daughter...please don't do this... I beg you...'

He said nothing. Instead, he waited for any surviving fight left within her to diminish - before he could carry her semi-conscious form to his bedroom.

A few pending tasks to finish - and then, she was all his!

THE SILVER AUDI

'Jalal just shut up! I am NOT jumping a red light again...it's NOT safe! It's getting dark too...'

'F**k this traffic man...' Jalal banged the window, as he waited for the queues to clear 'I should have driven myself... I would have overtaken these drivers by now...'

'And got us all in an accident too! Just let me drive in peace, ok?' fuming under his breath, Abdul stiffened his grip on the steering wheel 'Do you want to reach the place on time? Or be caught by a traffic warden? What's happened to you? Why are you behaving so edgy? So unlike yourself...'

'Ok...' he relented, still glancing out his window agitatedly 'Forget about my mood swings... I don't know what's gotten over me all of a sudden... anyway, just drive!'

'Guys can you both stop arguing, please?' Renu chided her mates - surprised by the unusual show of immaturity that'd been going on ever since they left office 'Jodha must be fine... stop worrying yourself sick, Jalal!'

'Arre...listen na...' Meera had to literally shout over the heated conversations as the traffic started clearing 'Just take the left there, Abdul... there...'

'By the way' Renu reminded him You better have a good explanation if all of us are going to barge into a professor's house... unannounced... in the evening...'

'All of us are not going to barge in! I'm going alone, ok? Just to find out if Jo is there... if she's fine...' he paused to swallow the agonizing lump in his throat - a result of a strange anger and unease brewing within 'And to have an informal chat with sir...'

TUITION - PROFESSOR RAM CHARAN'S RESIDENCE

'Nooo... please' her soul shuddered because her spine couldn't. Her mind recoiled in disgust because her fingers couldn't. She didn't experience anything externally. Yet, she could experience everything within. The drugs had made her too groggy to fight. Yet, she was conscious enough to know what was going on - and what a horrible plight that was to be in 'Nooo' she protested as he kissed the glass bangles - his late-wife's glass bangles that he'd slipped onto her wrists 'Please... DON'T DO THIS... please... please...' assuming she was screaming her voice hoarse, she persisted with the outcry - but unbeknown to her, all that came out was a dopey murmur 'Please... I am Jodha Singh... not your wife... please understand...I AM NOT YOUR WIFE!'

Those were words she'd reiterated a million times, but they weren't going to deter the delusional' in him. When her sorry state, her appeals or the blood trickling down her palms hadn't stopped him - a few words weren't going to make any difference, were they? Yet, she kept going at it. So desperate had she become that she was ready to do ANYTHING to buy herself some time from that horrendously-slow ticking-clock. At one point, she'd even tried sweet-talking him out of it - to divert his attention by asking him questions about his late-wife and whatnot. However, he subsequently saw through her ruse and when he did - he shut her up for good. Pulling her by her hair, he rattled her benumbed senses by yelling right into her ears 'Just because I have schizophrenia... doesn't mean I'm a fool... so, don't treat me like one!'

So here she was, praying and praying that this nightmare would go away soon - while he relentlessly persevered with his twisted sport.

Having dreamily brushed her hair to his heart's content, he moved up her delicate form to caress the forehead that had a large bindi now stuck upon it - his late-wife's bindi 'My bride' he chanted recurrently 'You are pure...you are divine... you are virginal... you are mine! I've missed you...'

'Urgh' Jodha yearned to be able to flinch her face away. She wished to be able to punch - or bite - or kick - or scratch - or throttle him senseless with all of her essence - but her paralyzed form could do little else than let a warm droplet roll off her heavy eyelids 'God...' she wailed as he reached for her lips thereafter 'NOOO...PLEASSSE...'

In her head, she was endlessly kneeing him off - but in reality, the poor girl's legs only lay limp 'Please make this stop!'

Once he'd admired her face and adored her lips to his satisfaction, he slithered downwards to stroke the silver toe-rings he'd slipped on her petite feet 'My bride' he didn't stop chanting 'You are so beautiful'

While the abuser went on to play with her toes, the demoralized victim had to crunch her eyes to take a break from watching the invasion of her sanctity under the harsh light of that flickering tubelight.

'Jalal' his charming face hovered in front of her closed eyes as she did so - a drug-induced illusion she'd had for the third time since the ordeal started - and her only respite in this torturous evening so far. She laugh-cried at the irony. How incredibly ticklish she used to get whenever her boyfriend used to reach for her feet to tease the hell out of her. Now, she could feel nothing! 'Jalal...' her overwrought emotions momentarily hushed down 'Why do I keep calling out to you? Are you here?' for some reason, she'd sensed his comforting presence again. Maybe it was just her mind's way of escape. She'd even seen mamma - her papa - and bhaiyyas at different times. Loved ones who cherished her like none other and tragically enough, loved ones who had no idea of what she was going through!

'You will look so beautiful in this...' his bizarre tone threw her off her train of thoughts

It was then that her blurry eyes caught the stalker picking up his wife's red saree. Instantly realizing what his gruesome intentions were, her hysteria went into overdrive - but what point in her spirit continuing with this war when her body couldn't even lift a finger 'No... no... no...Ma... if you can't save me from this... please just let me die... please let me die... I don't want to go through this... hear me... someone... please... hear me... Jalaaal' and then, her silent howls abruptly came to a pause. She heard the whispers of her man 'Shhh!' She saw the hazy outlines of his face. She was having another hallucination.

'Even if you can't fight one battle, Jo...' her man seemed to debate 'Why opt to end the rest of your beautiful life for no fault of yours? Why punish me for no fault of mine? Why choose to die, when you have ME to fight for you?'

'True' she whimpered. The notion did make a lot of sense. Even if the worst were to happen, it would never change what her man or her family thought of her. Then, why must SHE die? Why must she punish her loved ones by choosing to die? 'I don't deserve to die' she steeled herself 'Whatever happens, I will NOT die...' she paused. She imagined the alternative. Another deluge of tears gushed down her tired eyes 'But I don't want to be raped either...'

'As the psychopath flicked open the neatly folded saree, she knew she was running out of time. She'd tried every trick in the book to make him stop, but nothing had worked so far. She had to attempt something new - something that would drive him mad enough so he'd lose his self-control'. It was risky, but she had no choice!

'Y... you' she stuttered, noticing him get close 'You cannot get away with this...'

'Do you think I plan to hang around here after this?' he laughed-off her futile threats 'Everyday thousands of people are reported missing in India, only to be never found again... I will become a part of that statistic, that's all...' he indicated towards a packed suitcase standing in a corner 'The sad thing is, the police will know not where I am... YOU will know not where I am... your BROTHERS will know not where I am... BUT, I will always know where you are... what you're doing... I will always keep the Rishabhs and Jalals away... and wait for you to change your mind... to come to me...' he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ears 'And once I grow tired of waiting, I'll just start targeting your loved ones... one after another...I know everything about everyone... what your father does on Sundays... where your brothers work...'

Wasting no further time, he snaked his palm around her bare neck to reach the tiebacks on her salwar

'NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! PLEASE!' her spirit writhed in excruciating agony

'Watch them all suffer...' he undid her salwar knots, one by one

THE PARKED SILVER AUDI - OUTSIDE THE BUILDING

Slamming shut the passenger door of his car, he instructed his friends in a rush 'If I don't come down in 15 minutes... come up for me...'

'Yup' Renu nodded

'If I don't pick my phone after a few missed calls... come up for me...'

'Yup' Renu nodded again

'But till then...'

'We'll wait for you here...' Abdul intervened with a very heavy sigh

'Haan ok... bye for now'

No sooner than the determined crusader headed off in the direction of the building's entrance, the restless friend paced forth and grabbed onto his bestie's arm. For some reason, he felt like he had to say something more.

'Hey...' a taken aback Jalal, turned around to enquire 'K...kyaa?' despite the inherent unrest in his head right then, he didn't fail to discern the extent of angst in his pal's eyes 'Kyaa hua Abdul?'

'Promise me...' Abdul uttered, on an anxious tone 'That you'll be careful...'

'Of course...' Jalal smirked, half-heartedly 'You were taunting me all this while. Now suddenly... so serious? Chill... I'm just going to have a chat...'

Hurling his friend a short-but-poignant wink, the lone man spun about and walked off. His silhouette disappeared - through the arched doorway - and into the dark corridors of that beige building.

A second later, Abdul sensed something in his shirt pocket. He took the object out.

'Where did this come from? Jalal? But, he NEVER gives away his whole stash...' staring at the untouched packet of mentos now sitting in his hand, he battled a peculiar sense of restlessness tearing away at his peace 'Maybe... I shouldn't have let him go alone...'

The quiet little boy continued to curl the edges of the long paper he was holding onto, adamantly refusing to give a 'yes' nod. His reactions were now plain enough to decipher - he didn't want to hide the extent of his disgruntlement any longer. Well, he didn't like what he'd just read. He knew what he was getting was a raw deal - and nothing would convince him otherwise!

When the silent spell had gone on for long enough - way longer than any 'sulk-session' he'd displayed in the past - he finally mustered some good-old 12 year old courage and looked up. At the gentleman in front. His handsome face appeared so stern now - his usually-affectionate bespectacled-eyes so authoritative. But, why? Why was his loving father coming across as one so strict? Was it the darkness of the room that brought about that effect? Or was it the gravity of the situation that called for such tough-love? Either way, the boy couldn't understand what HIS own fault was in all of this! Why was HE the one being punished? 'Not fair'

Interrupting the ongoing stillness in the room, the man cleared his throat - an indication that his patience was wearing thin. The young boy had better speak up. Pronto!

'But abbu...' he ultimately grumbled aloud, expressing his displeasure like a child who'd just lost his most precious collection of toys - all at one go 'Abbu... you'd promised ... you'd promised to take me to the India-Pakistan cricket match next week... and you say you're leaving now... that's cheating... besides, you're telling me my doggie's not going to stay with me for long either...' he had to fight back the whelming impulse to break down into tears, since he could guess that his dad was currently in no mood to put up with weep-a-thons 'And this list... I don't like what it says... this list is so scary...' he'd used the term 'scary' because he didn't know what other adjective to use 'I mean... it's asking me to do so many things...' his cute brows knotted into a frown - a frown too worried and too matured for the likes of a twelve year old 'It says... I have to take care of Ammi... I have to take care of the house... I have to take care of the office... I have to take care of Taaya...'

He abruptly stopped. His father had now folded his arms unhappily, darting him a very grim look as he'd done so. It was obvious. Abbu wasn't approving of this 'whiny' display from an otherwise brave young lad!

'But... but...' the boy swiftly added, hoping to get done with his confessions and woes, before the inevitable - before his father was going to leave him forever 'Abbu... I'm meant to take care of all of them... but, who is meant to take care of ME?'

Puzzlingly, the man said nothing thereafter. Nah. He only let out a long sigh in response. However a second later, he DID grab his confused young lad by the wrist and led him towards a high window. Once he'd opened the curtains, the vista outside left the boy speechless. Awestruck.

What a welcome change the scenes outside were - a complete contrast to the gloomy interiors he'd been cooped in for so long.

'Wooow!' he exclaimed, perching on the edge of his toes as his kiddish fingers grabbed the window sill to afford him a better view

Sunny skies and fluffy clouds above. Soft sands and tranquil tides below. The breeze was light. The water crystal clear. The sounds a soothing playlist of nature's many melodies. It was God's skilled artwork on this canvas of nature.

Then, the father pointed to a silhouette in the distance - a petite silhouette that the son had somehow missed the first time around

It was a girl. Around ten or eleven. Playing all by herself. Possibly building something on the shores.

In a short while, the little one sensed that she was being watched and stood up to observe her spectators. The intrusion not frightening her in the least, she waved out to her audience with a sweet smile 'Hi...'

He observed her, curiously. Muddy hands. Small hazel eyes. Raven-black wavy hair. Bright features. Something about this girl was so different. So refreshing. So welcoming. So much like 'home'. Though hesitant at first, he waved back too - his smiles-of-relief subconsciously morphing into bigger grins 'Hi'

'I'm trying to build something...' she called out to him with an affectionate blink 'Wanna help? We can build this together...'

'Sure' he nodded and turned around - wanting to find out if he had his father's permission to join her.

Gosh! He hadn't realized it, but his father had left. He was standing alone. In the darkness. With none beside him. He cast a brief glimpse at the door. He didn't know how - but it'd been locked too. Nevertheless, he knew what he had to do. After all, he did have abbu's consent. So, he dragged out a step stool. Parked it under the sill. Climbed onto it and jumped out of the window. To join her. Something he couldn't wait to do...

'Jodha!' his eyes opened.

The skies were white. Wait. The sky wasn't white - the walls were. Then, how was it sunny? Or was it a bright light instead? Many bright lights. But, why was this place so quiet? It wasn't 'serenely' quiet. It was 'clinically' quiet. What WAS this white place? This white room? God. This was a hospital! An operation theatre!

'Check the patient's vitals...'

'Is he becoming hypertensive?'

'Check his eye reflexes...'

'He's awake?'

'Seems like it...'

'Dr. Swaminathan... I think we need to top up the Propofal...'

'Yes... I'm doing just that... and the Sufentanil too... not to worry... his vitals should settle down soon enough...'

'Nurse... any news from our blood bank yet? We need at least 2 units more! Hurry up!'

'No news yet doctor... but the staff are calling up other banks nearby...'

'AB+ blood group na... so, not the easiest to get hold of...'

'We've barely got him out of Hypovolemic shock... we need more units ASAP... ask them to keep trying... I want this young chap to make it through fine... I could do with some good news in the lead up to the New Year!'

'I understand doctor... waise bhi... I heard that the female patient who came in with him... the one in the other OT... couldn't be revived...'

*************************************************************************

DAY 3 post-op INSIDE THE HOSPITAL ROOM

'Hey yaar...'

'Can you hear us?'

'Huh?' who was this? Was this person talking to him? Well, the voice certainly sounded familiar.

'Jalal?'

He slowly reopened his eyes. It took a great deal of energy to do so though - what with the eyelids seeming to weigh as much as a pair of iron shields

'How are you feeling buddy?'

He wanted to answer. He tried to - but it was easier thought' than done! For starters, his tongue was too dry to function effectively 'U...' he swallowed 'Um...I...'

'Yayyy!' suddenly, a loud round of cheers echoed around him - followed by a series of high-fives too!

'FINALLY!'

'You've spoken...'

'At last!!!!'

God! Who were these people? Feeling drowsier than he had when he'd downed an entire bottle of vodka once, Jalal battled to keep his eyes agape so he could decipher the surroundings. It was a decent plain mid-sized room. He was lying down in the centre. Possibly, on a large single bed. His left upper torso covered in complex layers of dressing. Some annoying tubes needled all over his arms. And a few - no - MANY faces surrounding him.

'Hey sleeping beauty...' the outline of a woman's profile appeared to come close to his face 'It's us yaar... RENU speaking here!'

'Jalal...' another recognizable voice chipped in 'It's ME ABDUL! Renu's here... Salim... Sana... Meera... your office colleagues are waiting outside... many of our classmates had dropped in earlier ...' ensuing an awkward lull, he continued on a more hush tone 'Even Maan and Payal are here... waiting in the corridors...'

'Oh!' so, it was THEM. HIS friends. HIS people.

'Abdul' Renu suggested 'Shouldn't we inform aunty? She'd be so relieved!'

'Yeah... you wanna bring her here?'

'Huh?' he wondered. Aunty? Who was aunty'? 'Oh!' it struck him then - they were referring to HIS mom 'H...' he muttered his first conscious syllables, though the speech was awfully groggy 'A... ammi?'

'Aunty's ok yaar...'

'Unfortunately, she wasn't taking the news very well... so the doctor prescribed her some medication...to calm her down...'

Shit! His heart sank. Even in that semiconscious narcotized state, he knew he didn't like what he'd heard. It'd taken years to wean his mom off those anti-depressants, following abbu's demise - only for her to revert to those medicines now. Shit!

'Hey...' he sensed a gentle tap on his palm 'Your mom will be fine... don't worry...'

'Especially now that you're awake...'

'And finally speaking...'

'WE were all worried sick! Then imagine what she must have gone through...'

'You've been unresponsive for THREE days, you know...during which she hardly slept... or ate...'

'What!' a few warning bells abruptly went off in his head. Three days? He'd been unconscious for three days? THREE WHOLE DAYS? What had become of HER in the meanwhile? 'J...' he gasped

'What?'

'J...' he restated in haste, in case his eyes automatically sealed themselves shut again

'Kyaa?'

'Urgh!' he grew flustered. What the hell had the doctors doped him with that he couldn't even talk clearly after three days? Drawing in a long breath, he spoke up again - making every effort to be heard a bit clearer now 'Jodha?'

The jovial ruckus that'd been enlivening the room slowly tempered down. A cloak of melancholy had shrouded the ambience. Even his semi-blurred vision could identify it - the cheer that'd been prevalent on his group's faces so long, had faded away.

His pulses raced. His worst fears were coming true. His already-haggard mind and body could take this uncertainty no more 'Jodha?' the frail boyfriend re-queried, muttering a hundred prayers as he did so 'W...where is sh...she?'

'Dost... you should rest now...'

'Jalal... you sleep... we'll be back later... ok?'

Damn! This was crazy. Why weren't they JUST TELLING HIM? What was the point of this silence! 'Bolo na guys...' he was yelling now - or at least that's what his mind thought it was doing 'HOW is Jodha...'

'Jalal...'

'She has slipped into a coma yaar...'

OSR 57 - PART 1 - To new beginnings

5 days post-op

THE HOSPITAL WAITING AREA ENROUTE ICU

'H... hello...' slowly getting up from the cushiony seat of that semi-ripped waiting chair - a place that'd become his makeshift-home lately, he greeted their latest visitors. The first amongst his family to do so. High time he dispelled the air of discomfort that'd been lingering around for more than a minute now 'Hello Abdul...' he sighed 'And Jalal... h... how are you feeling now?'

'Hello Vishal...' Abdul greeted him

'I... I...' Jalal faltered for a second there 'I'm ok...'

'Aapko baitna hai?' came another soft yet sombre offer soon after 'You still seem quite...'

'N...no... thank you bhabhi...' he tried to smile 'It's ok ... I can...'

'Waise...' Vishal paused to rub his eyelids - the red streaks in his eyes a possible aftermath of prolonged sleeplessness, worry and tears 'Waise...Jalal' he resumed 'All of us... we'd come to visit you after your surgery... but, you were asleep...so didn't want to disturb...'

'I know... I heard...' he acknowledged 'Thanks for the gesture...'

A further awkward lull dominated the morose gathering, before an unexpected voice called out to the young man

'Jalal... I should tell you this when I have the opportunity' a haggard Mr. Singh gradually stood up, his legs almost semi-numb from having occupied that seat for so long 'I realize that a lot of people are obliged to you... Maan's family were praising your efforts to the skies yesterday... as Vishal's parent, I owe you my earnest thanks too...' his words became strained, while the deluge of emotions steadily surmounted his tired mind 'But, I think... the person most indebted to you... is Jodha's father...' picking out a kerchief from his shirt pocket, he wiped the emerging droplets 'Though right now... I'm unable to...'

'Uncle...' he spoke empathetically, finding himself a very uneasy spectator of that touching sermon from a helpless father 'Please don't apologize ... I understand... and...' he let out a heavyhearted sigh 'Anyway... c... can I... I mean... I'd like to meet Jodha!'

'Meet her?' Malthi's low smirk interrupted their conversation 'You can't meet her... you can only observe her... or what's left of her...'

Startled; Jalal turned at once to watch the limp shadow slumped in a far corner of the waiting lobby, growing increasingly disturbed. Disturbed by both - the discouraging undertones of the statement he'd just heard and by the actual sight of what he was seeing. What had become of this mother? Her plight was deplorable - a stark reminder to anyone witnessing that the woman hadn't eaten, slept, or groomed in days. This was bad. Worse than what his own ammi had been reduced to.

Just then, the sounds of a repressed sniffle were heard in the backdrop. It was bade bhaiyya. A second later, the big brother got up and walked off - followed close on his heels by Kranthi bhaiyya.

No doubt. It was all very upsetting. The entire Singh family were 'lost' - more disoriented than a bunch of weary travellers in a dark maze.

Nevertheless. What had to be done, had to be done. So, the young man reverted his attention to the quiet father once again 'Any recent updates, uncle? Did the doctors say anything this morning?' he paused 'I... I would like to see how she's doing...'

AT THE ICU

'Please...' he pleaded for the tenth time with the random white-coat sporting junior doctor - and he knew he was going to lose it soon. Why were there no end to these frivolous hospital formalities whatsoever? Crap! THREE days since he'd gained consciousness. FOUR days since her surgery - and he was still jumping through hoops just to catch a glimpse of her 'Please... I'll be out in a few minutes at the max...'

'Mr. Muhammed... this is an ICU...' the doctor wasn't too impressed 'We have many other frail patients inside... and you've just had a major shoulder surgery yourself... we can't be risking cross-infections ...'

'But I was told it's fine to visit when I could stand on my own WITHOUT support...' he stretched his non-operated right arm across to show he wasn't dizzy or woozy in the least

'Sir!' the irate shift-nurse chipped in 'It's hospital protocol...we can't be letting patients meet each other in an ICU... this is not a park!'

'How ridiculous!' the 'kindness' in this anxious boyfriend's tone was becoming less apparent 'Your hospital formalities don't object to inspectors barging into my room to interrogate me ... but... when it's about meeting another patient in the ICU for a few minutes...'

'Jalal' Abdul whispered, noticing how 'worked-up' his pal was getting 'Calm down yaar ... people dekh rahe hain... and this approach isn't going to help you!'

Taking the friend's cue, he halted - to draw in a deep breath. A swift glance around revealed that the 'scenes' weren't doing Jodha's already-harassed parents any favours either. So, he better sort the issue amicably.

Only, his preoccupied mind wasn't able to think up of the right kind of words that'd help him get his way now. How was he supposed to speak to a bunch of hospital professionals about the kind of relationship he shared with Jodha Singh - and NOT come across like a blubbering sentimental fool while doing so? That he believed sharing even a few seconds with his girl would only help her cause?

Anyhow, the young lover tried - albeit, carefully 'It seems the neurosurgeon told Jodha's parents that in spite of her condition, she CAN hear... I'm trying to be optimistic here...' yes, a tide of despair was relentlessly dragging him under, but he pushed himself to stay strong and rooted 'What if I share a few seconds with her... talk to her... what if she responds... somehow...'

Malthi glanced up.

Those words. Those heartfelt words. Whether they'd affected others or not, they'd definitely managed to grab this desperate mother's attention 'Jodha' her lifeless features were washed down by a fresh volley of tears as she forced herself to give the circumstances a rethink.

So, maybe that's what this 'coma' was all about. A drama. Another 'silent fit' from her ziddi laadli, who was so used to getting her way. After all, every other loved one had communicated with her - in turns - over the past couple of days. But, she hadn't responded. Maybe because she was throwing a tantrum to show her displeasure at everyone and everything keeping her away from this boy of her choice! Maybe she just wanted to meet HIM

'Fine then' she dried her cheeks with the end of her pallu. If THAT's what it took for her stubborn daughter to snap out of this trance! If THAT's what it took to erase the permanent stress-lines on her husband's temple. To bring the joy back on her sons' faces. If THAT's what it took for her little angel to call her 'Mamma' again, let her meet him! 'Doctor' the mother hastily butted into the ongoing conversations 'I am the patient's mother... I'll sign the consent form if that's what's required to...'

'God!' the inundated junior doc nearly threw his arms in the air 'It's not about consent forms...'

'Please...' a composed Jalal spoke above the commotion - peering directly into the doctor's eyes so he had his full attention 'Just a few seconds... from a distance... at least...'

'Oh ok...' the man grew vexed. He had other appointments to rush to and dealing with a bunch of emotional relatives was not something his morning schedules could accommodate 'But only for a minute...'

''Thank you so much!' the young man nearly smiled. In relief. His first smile in days. Unaware that this 'relief' was going to be very short-lived!

THE ICU

'S...she's the one?' he stammered, unable to believe he was actually having to reconfirm the identity of his girl with a shift nurse - but he had to. He couldn't even recognize her. Or what was left of her, as her mother had infamously muttered a short while ago. No wonder then that her family had become this distraught over six days. No wonder his ammi wasn't very forthcoming about this meeting. No wonder his friends weren't giving him any sensible answers whenever he'd asked them 'How's she doing?'

What had he expected to come across? His girl peacefully sleeping on a bed? With a drip or two to keep her going? And what was he seeing in her place instead? An atrocity. An unpleasant chiller. A sufferer painfully unlike the spunky young woman he always knew her as!

'Hey handsome!' a soft pair of hands suddenly cropped-up from behind - meant to startle him as they gently slid over his face, before concealing his eyes 'Something about me is different today... let's see if you can guess what it is...'

'Hmmm' he broke out into an amused frowned - amused by how far his bundle-of-surprises loved this guessing-game sport 'You're wearing something different... something that makes you even more irresistible than you already are!'

'Acha?' she giggled 'Well that's for YOU to decide...'

Releasing her boyfriend from the temporary blindfold, she sashayed in front of him and flounced her hair around - like a model from a shampoo ad would 'Ta dah!' her shiny locks had cascaded along her shoulders, down her chest till they stopped oscillating somewhere around her waist 'A new parlour that bhabhi's discovered. Does it get a thumbs-up?'

'Wow!' his brows raised in amazement. While he was no expert in the latest feminine hairdos, he could note that her generally-wavy hair had been straightened out. Were there a few fancy layers trimmed at the edges too? He wasn't sure. Anyhow. The bottom-line was that she looked no less than a supermodel 'Yeah...' giving his girlfriend a brazen head-to-toe onceover, he pronounced his final verdict 'I'm not changing my choice of adjective... this hairstyle IS making you irresistible!'

'Ok!' she remarked with a flirtatious wink, while brushing a lock with her finger 'Irresistible, it is then!'

Aha! A grin emerged on his lips. It had to. That 'sparkle' had surfaced in her eyes. A sparkle that he so loved - a 'self-assured' glimmer that held a hundred different meanings. With an attitude that read 'I am beautiful and I know it'. A confidence that implied 'I love the effect I have on my super-special boyfriend'. And a sense of contentment that meant 'I feel on top of this world now'

'Jo' as his mind and eyes tried to come to terms with what'd happened to his I-feel-on-top-of-this-world girlfriend, his fingers dug into the railings of the bed! For support. He had to if he didn't want to succumb to the bouts of overwhelming palpitations as he studied her unsettling picture. Where her head had been shaved bald. Where the partly-wrapped bandages revealed trails of stitches running on her scalp. Where her face had swollen from the after-effects of two brain surgeries. Where tubes her been taped into her mouth, pipes into her nose and needles into her arms. Where her skin had turned so pale that her blue veins had become bluer. Where she appeared wasted because her body had already lost a quarter of its weight.

'Sir...' echoed the shift-nurse's voice amidst the many low beeps in that silent ICU 'You're obviously not too well... a couple of days ke baad aa jaayiye...she'll be moved to a room in the long-term care ward ... wahaan par itne restrictions bhi nahin hote...'

'Yeah' he nodded blankly - in no state to either recognize or refute that proposal 'I must probably leave now...' his eyes looked away, still struggling to cope with the tragedy. He needed some time - and some strength - to process all that he'd just observed 'I'll return later...'

His fraught senses needed to snap out of his own daze, before he could set out to wake her up from slumber. He needed to somehow fortify his weakened form. Become a strong bolster that she could hold onto. Well, he had to - for THEIR sakes. He'd successfully crossed many such barriers before. Couldn't he achieve the same again with a bit of patience now? Besides, this might just turn out to be the last of such hurdles to conquer in this journey to love!

****************************************

All this would be easier decided than done, as the young man would soon realize.

For it is not said in vain that -

The final step was the toughest of hurdles to cross

The final spell of patience the toughest of virtues to master.

****************************************

7 days post-op

PRIVATE ROOM - LONG TERM CARE WARD

'These ones should do, right?' bhabhi held out the hardbound books - two novels that'd been worn out at the edges from over-usage 'I hope they do...'

'We couldn't find any others' Meera added

'Nahi... nahi I know... these are the ones she loves reading... over and over again...' a visibly agitated Payal prodded them on 'I...I.. mean the ones she used to love reading ... I... mean she'd love hearing these stories now too, right?' unable to decide if she was beginning to sound supportive or insensitive, the nervy friend decided to cease her arguments 'I... it's just that... I want to be able to do all I can... just that I...'

'It's ok Payal...' Jalal attempted to calm her down, perceiving how she was letting the turn of events get to her yet again - his manner somehow more 'restrained' than it'd been in the past week or so 'We all are doing what we can...' he received the two novels from bhabhi

Noting that Jalal was about to go in, Meera briefly stopped him - to share a parting thought 'I pray this works Jalal...' she ensured her sorrow didn't show-up on her face 'And we all know... that if there's one person who can get her back, it's you...'

The other two ladies joined Meera too. In wishing him with all their heart. Not an easy task for the trio to achieve with a straight face - seeing how many hopes and lives hinged on this couple's recovery.

'Thanks...' he acknowledged their wishes with a grateful nod and then disappeared into the room. To do what he had to.

The door shut behind him.

At long last. It was his first personal moments with her. In their own private space. After days of praying. Of making enquiries. Of researching. Of preparing himself. Of anticipation and of waiting. He took-in a few deep breaths. A few seconds to fortify his grit and to put on some cheer. No, not because his Jo could see him smiling, but because he believed she could 'feel' him smiling.

Speak to the coma patient in a low and pleasant voice he remembered the lines from the various research articles he'd been studying They can sense your emotions

Once certain he was ready, he went near her. Slowly.

Somehow, the meeting felt less stressful today. It was definitely easier to stand beside her. To watch her. To accept this new 'form' of hers 'At least God has given me something to work on' he kept focussing on the signs of 'life' - the zig-zag lines beeping across the heart-machine and the rhythmic heaving of her chest. Taking his seat on an adjacent chair, his fingers gently moved forth to touch her bony wrists - initially with hesitation and then with a bit more confidence 'Hey Jo...' gazing at the outline of her still face, he adjusted the crackle in his parched throat 'It's me... your Jalal... I don't know if you can feel me... but, I know you can hear me... your family was here ... my ammi had stopped by...and ab, I'm here...' following a short pause, he answered the first hypothetical question she would've asked him had she been conscious 'By the way, my shoulder's healing well... the dressing's coming off tomorrow and I might be discharged soon... I do get sharp jolts of pain every now and again though... seems an artery was severed... so a few nerves got affected... MONTHSSS of physiotherapy ahead... no gym for a while!' realizing that he was beginning to get carried away, the boyfriend shook his head in mild self-reproof 'But I hope to be fit and fine... sometime soon! So, we can fool around like we used to...' his cheer plateaued.

He waited. Watched out for some kind of change. In her fingers. Her eyes. Her reflexes. But no luck. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a few moments to reinstate his faith in happy-endings

'Waise talking of fooling around... our group... Salim, Maan, Payal, Meera, Abdul and Renu... we caught up at the hospital canteen an hour ago... heck... the chai-samosa here is nowhere close to SRI canteen standards...' his eyes lit up 'Jo... remember the fun we used to have in our canteen... amazing days na...even after you complete your MBA, we should drop by at college once in a while to relive all this...' the haze that'd glossed over his eyes turned dreamier 'And you remember Amal old age home? This morning... many Amal residents travelled all the way from the other side of the city to visit us... they brought some Holy Powder... Vibhooti or something...to bless us...' his fingers continued playing with her wrist 'And haan... thanks for taking care of my Taveez sweetheart! It's back with me now... you know... we've had so many visitors wishing us well... my relatives from Mumbai... your uncles from Jaipur... college students... staff... I wish you'd open your eyes and witness all this...' overcome by grief at that point, Jalal ignored the escalating strain on the left torso - still immobilized within a soft cast - to bend forward and caress her wrist with his lips. Well, there was no other part of hers that he dare lay a hand on. No other part of hers that hadn't been tampered with a machine or needle of some sort 'I miss you so much!' he came away from her quiet body after an anguishing minute of pin-drop silence 'By the way...' he noticed the books in his hand 'I have a couple of your favourite novels here... I'll come by every evening during the visiting hours to read you a few pages...'

Reading out to patients in a coma helps them to see images

'And I hope...that by the time I reach the last chapters, you'll be awake to read the story with me!'

With that mental-boost, he opened the novel's first page 'From the moment Nick McCall walked into his boss' office, he knew something was up. Being a special agent for the FBI, he was comfortable at both...'

9 days post-op

'In Nick's opinion, the only accessories an FBI agent should pair with a suit were a shoulder harness and a gun.'

His eyes peeked up. For a fleeting minute. Searching for any flutters or movements on her.

Nope. Nothing yet - not in TWO days now.

It was difficult. To keep talking to an 'unresponsive' person - but he just had to remind himself that this was meant to be healing, not magic. That his girl was in there. Somewhere. Listening to him. Living the world through HIS voice to reconstruct her memories. Dependant on his words to establish the will to be conscious again.

Just then, the beeper on his mobile had gone off. He checked the texter 'Ammi?' Shucks! He immediately understood what that reminder was meant for 'My appointment with the consultant! Errr...' he checked the time 'I can still squeeze fifteen minutes in...'

Letting out a deep breath, he hastily dipped his head to resume the story again. Simultaneously performing a few stretching exercises that the physiotherapist had recommended to relieve the agonizing pain in his frozen neck and shoulders. Ever since the bandages had come off, the entire area somehow felt even rawer. Nevertheless. He couldn't afford to take breaks. Especially when he had so less time left to spend with her.

Re-wrapping her wrist within the confines of his warm palms Jalal delved into the book again'Nick recognized the woman instantly. Not because he knew her personally, but because everyone in Chicago would recognize her. "Jordan Rhodes?" he asked incredulously. "She's the richest woman in Chicago."

12 days post-op

'This man was good-looking in a rugged, masculine way. There was something a bit... as he watched her intently. He took a step forward. Jordan took a step back. A slight grin played at the edges of his lips, as if he found this amusing.'

A smile escaped his lips as he arrived at the end of that para 'A handsome... well-built hero grinning at the effect he's having on his feisty hot-and-bothered heroine... hmmm... now, where have I heard that kahaani, Jo?' as he recalled their parallel-story - the corridor scenes, Jalal couldn't help but break out into a low laugh 'Waise... wanna relive our famous conversations AGAIN? Been a while since we did this anyway...' whipping out his brand new mobile from the back pocket and muttering a mental 'Phew' for NOT having deleted their memorable text-exchanges during the angry break-up-phase, he scrolled back. To their precious flashbacks

'Unforgettable!' he sighed mischievously 'That legendary moment when I'd received your first YES, a few hours after I'd cornered you in that verrandah...'

He read the sms aloud

'Jalal...u r the most stubborn...adamant...bull-headed...egoistic...strong-willed...annoying guy I've evr met...u r a royal pain, u know that?'

Then, the next

'Yup Jalal! That's why I hate it when I turn out to b WRONG ... and u turn out to b RIGHT!

Now, got ur answer?'

He moved below.

To a MMS attachment

'And remember this photo?' he asked, as he clicked it open 'These were the new brown heels you'd bought... you sent me this pic when I was in a lecture...'

His smirks subconsciously turning into unnerved frowns, he scrolled to the next one

'The aloo paratha I made has gone all sulky and cold... possibly misses u as much as I do. When r u comin?'

He continued rolling through the screen. Reciting the smses aloud. His tone drowning deeper and deeper in sorrow with every passing verse. It was like reading poetry - that portrayed the tale of two lovers.

As he cruised along with her on this special trip down their 'relationship' memory lane, the messages spoke of it all. Her changing feelings. His mischief. Her wit. His flattery. The first time they'd kissed. Their farm house trip. Their secretly planned dinner-dates. Their midnight chatter. Their intellectual debates. Their risque compliments. And Eid wishes too.

And once he approached their excited Annual Day smses, the tale was left incomplete.

'That was the night we made love...' he whispered, his voice as shaky as a discordant chord now 'Remains the most special night to me... and the diamond ring still sits in my cupboard, waiting for you to reclaim it...' he stopped and shut the phone - unable to carry on anymore 'Such a tantalizing journey' his dark eyes misted up 'Wonder how it's meant to proceed!' beholding her passive face required all of his determination to NOT succumb to the pangs of heartbreak he was feeling just then. Mustering some spirit, he went on to stroke a part of her cheeks that wasn't mummified under the oxygen mask 'Just give me one indication...' he demanded 'One hint to show me you remember all this ... that you're thinking about all this as I speak ...'

Suddenly, his thought-processes were interrupted.

The door had swung open. It was Vishal - followed by Kranthi bhaiyya.

Oh! Were visitation hours up already? Compelled to regroup himself from the emotional trauma he'd been entangled in for so long, Jalal glimpsed at the dial on his watch 'Wow... 7 pm!' not only was the hour up - it was possibly too late to make it to his physiotherapy appointment too 'Hi Vishal...' he stood up 'Hi Kranthi bhaiyya...'

'Hey Jalal...' Vishal nodded back 'Guess what?' he held up a pen drive 'I've composed the playlist you'd asked for yesterday...'

The boyfriend was impressed - that was quick 'With ALL her favourite tracks in it?'

'Yup' Vishal blinked 'Sun Raha Hai Tu is inserted at least five times in that list...'

'Great...' Jalal erupted into a half-hearted snigger 'Let's play the songs... and see how it goes...'

57 - PART 2

17 days post op

The excited boyfriend barged into Room No. 11 of the long term care ward - unconcerned about the visitors who might be present or the kind of conversations that might be transpiring within 'Did she?' he yelped, still catching up on his breath after that 1000 m bolt down the corridors - a dash his two best mates could barely keep up with 'Did she?'

'Yes!' Bhabhi nodded

'Wow!' the man was still in disbelief - wondering if he should rejoice yet 'She moved her fingers? Last night?'

'Wait!'

The voice was dull - acting like a wet blanket on the mini-celebrations that'd hardly begun 'Jalal' Mr. Singh addressed the eager visitor 'It was only for a second... and the doctor said such things are usual ... doesn't mean she is gaining consciousness...'

'Oh!' damn! Did they have to tell him that? Did they REALLY have to tell him that? He could so do without the pessimism. Especially since he'd had NOTHING positive to go on for the past TEN DAYS 'Anyway...' he put on an uncomfortable smile 'Something's better than nothing...'

'Jalal...' Abdul's hush voice resonated from behind soon after 'Dekho, a lot of Jodha's relatives are here today...' obviously, he'd noticed the many 'odd' frowns going around in that cramped room - thanks to this sudden interruption into family-time 'Besides, Taaya is leaving for Mumbai tonight... he wanted to...'

'Wait a second...' the young man turned to face his besties - his wide-eyed expression indicating that he hadn't heard or heeded a word of Abdul's advice yet 'She responded to music, right? Means she wants to listen to happy stuff she can relate to...'

'Hey' Renu wasn't swayed 'It's time for your physio appointment... you better not miss it today... warna, aunty is...'

'What else makes her genuinely happy?' he overrode the warning, growing increasingly oblivious to everything and everyone around him 'I've done it all... reading... music... chatting...texts...'

'Jalal!'

'Wait... wait... wait... wait... I need to think back... to what her favourit-est sentiment in the whole wide world would be ... something that made her truly truly happy!' a nervous laugh followed 'Just trying to recall you know...'

'Jalaaal... are you listening to what we're saying?'

'Shit!' he closed his mouth in realization - like an epiphany of epic proportions had just swept him off his feet 'Shit... shit... shit... shit... how could I forget? She's referred to this many times... as the gesture that touched her the most...' hurriedly removing his mobile phone, he began browsing through their much-cherished video clips 'I should have tried this out before... pagal hoon main!' no sooner than he'd found what he wanted, the overwhelmed boyfriend stepped forth and startled the pal by clutching his face gratefully 'I love you Abdul' he chuckled, unaware that his actions were commencing to border on irrational 'Love you for retrieving my sim card from that creep's house... or I would have lost this!'

'Jalal... you're becoming obsessed' Renu murmured 'Even more than HER family is!'

'Hum apne kaam chodke aaye hain just so...'

'Ufff!' suffocated by their arguments, he retorted angrily 'F**k physiotherapy... f**k this police case... f**k everything else!'

'LANGUAGE! Her family is watching ...'

'We should probably come back later...'

'NO! I need to do this now!' he huffed in a very un-Jalal like manner, the agitation rendering him almost short of air 'I'm not mad! Why do you think I'm trying so frantically to get her out of this state ASAP? Kyunki, all research I've read has proved that the best chances to revive a coma patient is within the first four-five weeks... after that... her probabilities of slipping into a permanent vegetative state are MUCH HIGHER!'

The bickering muffled down.

For a spell, no one knew how to react to that dismal revelation!

Till the parents' pitiable wails - started echoing from a distant corner in the room

'Beta... don't say that...'

'Nooo! Please tell us what you just said is not true...'

Shit! The emotional young man shut his eyes. In remorse. Frustration. And helplessness. He shouldn't have lost his cool. He shouldn't have blurted this depressing fact in the presence of an already-wistful family. And definitely not in the presence of Jodha herself!

The tearful lull ensued - till someone ultimately decided to make an attempt to end the unpleasantness

'I... I'm going to go grab something to eat...' Vishal suggested 'Anyone else wants to join?'

'I'm coming' Bhabhi added

'Ma... papa... sab...' bade bhaiyya nudged - his whole family - on a firm note 'Aap bhi chaliye yahaan se...'

And before long, everyone had left. Primarily, to escort the inconsolable parents out of that desolate environment for a short while.

Yes, he'd come there expecting to celebrate - and it'd all turned out pear-shaped now. Regardless. It only made sense for Jalal to finish what he'd started.

So, wasting not a second further he accessed this 'special-est' video clip that he'd been referring to. The one recorded in his study - on her 23^rd birthday.

He pressed PLAY

Once its hilarious tickle-a-thon conversations started running, he held the instrument near Jodha's ears - watching her features very closely as he did so

Squashed together on that grand armchair, they caught up on their breath - facing one another 'Thank you' she whispered softly 'For making my 23rd birthday so memorable...'

'Don't worry' he winked 'I'll make your 43rd birthday just as lovely too'

'And my 63rd?' she gushed

'Yeah...' he sighed jovially 'As long as you'll be able to hop around a fort so briskly then!'

The clipping ended. There was no response from her. He played it again

Then, again

And again

And again

And again

And again

And again - till his mobile-screen started indicating 'Low charge'

'Jodha' the tears that he'd kept bottled up for days and days finally found their course. Yet, he persisted.

He pressed PLAY once more

Then, once more

And once more

And once more

And once more till the screen flashed 'Very low charge'

'Jodhaaa!' his desperation escalated 'Don't do this to me...' his tears became more profound - but he didn't let the clipping stop. His mates were striving to comfort him - but he didn't flinch. Because his senses were too fixated upon his girl's calm eyelids 'Are you listening to these words?' he hollered 'They talk of how I'd make your 43^rd and 63^rd birthdays grand too! But for that, you have to WAKE UP first!'

And the phone eventually ran out of charge. The screen blacked-out.

After a minute of paralysed stillness, the boyfriend fell down on his knees. Completely out of steam. Degenerating into a woeful heap 'This can't be how it's meant to end for us!'

'Jalal' both friends called out to him - repeatedly - but they were unable to come up with anything that could help put him out of his misery. How could they? The man was at the saddest point in his life - and nothing they said or did would change matters.

So ultimately, they just let him be - the spectacle moving them to sympathy tears too.

And, Jalal vented out. A 25 year old man like a 12 year child would. For the second time in his life. Muttering her name a hundred instances as he did so. Tearing his heart open. Letting his innermost fears be known - that revealed the possibilities of a bleak life ahead. Of loneliness. Of lovelessness. Of how he felt cheated and short-changed by life. He sobbed and sobbed. No one knew exactly for how long. Until his tired mind and body could take the hysterical onslaughts no more.

THE HOSPITAL CORRIDORS

'Abdul... Renu...' he responded to the tap on his shoulder, his morbid tone reflecting how far life had been drained out of his body. Everything was a blur. No longer did he have an idea of the time. Or the day. Or his whereabouts. Or the very reason why he was still alive! 'You guys go on... I'll get home... when I feel better...'

'It's me...'

Jalal looked up. Blankly.

The calm profile of bade bhaiyya was staring down at the 'emptiness' in his face 'I brought this...' he held out a plastic cup of garam chai, while taking a seat nearby 'Thought you might need it...'

Jalal said nothing in reply. He couldn't. However he did accept the tea - and even sipped a little. No kidding. The warm drink felt good as it slipped down his arid throat 'I'm sorry...'

'For what? For trying?' bade bhaiyya quipped 'Strange, isn't it? Grown men like us... reduced to tears because of people we care about...' he paused, before inserting a significant adjective there 'Grown STRONG men like us...'

Even in that state of apathy, Jalal HAD to look up - to meet eyes with the man. Had the big brother just referred to him as 'strong'?

Following a long spell of silence, a pensive Bhagwant resumed 'Choti is like the child I never had... so, seeing her in that state rattled me for a while too... till I grasped that the tears were getting me nowhere...' he heaved slowly 'Jalal, you are the torch-bearer here... my parents may not say it... but it's obvious they're depending on you for hope...' rubbing his tired forehead with his palms, he shrugged thereafter 'Tho, when you've decided to lead a marathon rally here... why race like a sprinter? You wouldn't last long! Like I understood that I have to take care of myself and stay tough for the sake of my parents... I advice you to take care of yourself and be tough for the sake of your ammi...' he paused 'Take it slow... because we don't know how long this marathon is meant to last!'

A pretty rare occasion indeed when Jalal was rendered silent, but he was. Now. The youth was touched. By the many hidden messages in that sermon. By the many hints of care and appreciation in that counsel. It was a big thing coming from one so egoistic. So, he valued the gesture. Both; the message itself and the intent behind it. After all, he'd never had or known a 'big brother' figure all his life 'I...I...' he stammered after a while, not knowing how to display his gratitude here. A hug would be too personal and a handshake too formal. So, he just glimpsed down at the tea cup thereafter and confessed his genuine thoughts 'That was some pretty powerful advice...'

'Trust me...' the man patted the younger chap's shoulder in acknowledgement 'I'm neither good at giving advice nor receiving it... but I've definitely learnt my own lessons through this ordeal too...'

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30 days post op

AT THE PHYSIOTHERAPISTS' CLINIC

'Much... much better!' she praised her patient, having drawn her conclusions from the range-of-movement around his left shoulder

'Waise...' the young man added, with a victorious glimmer in his eyes 'I drove the Audi myself today... FINALLY!' oh yes, the gearshifts did almost 'kill' his shoulder muscles, but he conveniently omitted that important fact

'The sign of new beginnings, I see' she returned to her desk - to jot the report in his appointment folder

'New beginnings...' he repeated with a subtle smile - not knowing why he liked the sound of it

'By the way... looking really smart today... tie... suit... sab...' for the nth time, her eyes fell upon the lovely fresh bouquet sitting at the end of the examination-bed 'And roses too! Going to meet someone special?'

'Interesting!' his debonair frowns deepened. Those were the second round of flirty 'You look smart' compliments he'd received that day - the earlier ones coming from a female colleague at work 'The tie's because I had an important lunch meeting with a client today' he casually informed, buttoning up his suit since the examination was done with 'And the roses are for my girlfriend...' he'd ended with a self-assured grin. In typical Jalal-like fashion!

'Oh! Girlfriend?' the physiotherapist's expressions instantly sobered up 'Waise... I apologize... don't mean to intrude... but, I heard she's in... a... a...'

'Coma?' he saved her the trouble 'Yeah she is! But she loves to hear from me every day...' he glimpsed at his watch thereon. Yup. Just enough time. To get to the hospital for his 5:30 - 6:30 pm daily catch-up session. To chat with Jo about his day. Play her their favourit-est video clip. And then, to make it home - for the sumptuous hot dinner that ammi must have prepared.

'But if she's in a coma, she isn't going to know that you are doing all this... that you've bought her such EXPENSIVE roses and all... this, coming from a medical professional...'

'Oh! I know... but, she SENSES it...' he countered 'Besides, my girlfriend does deserves the best from me...' after all, he hadn't been able to spoil her with flowers when they were dating in fear of her family's retaliation. However, NOW that things were different - he made it a point to buy her a fresh EXPENSIVE bunch every time the old ones faded away 'Makes her hospital room feel more homely... and she'd prefer it that way!'

'Wow!' the young lady nearly melted into a puddle 'Is she the lucky one? Or are you the unlucky one?'

'I'd say we BOTH are lucky!' an amused Jalal corrected her - trying not to chuckle at the various undertones in the physio's reactions 'Had I been in her place... she'd have done EXACTLY the same for me...'

Slipping his Bluetooth back on, he picked up the bouquet. Flicked his hand to give Miss Doc a fancy farewell. And then, strode out. His pace brisk. His manner jaunty.

Once at the car park; he beeped-open his car, slipped in and drove off. Into the lively streets. Into the busy Hyderabad evening traffic.

Just as he'd stopped at a junction's red light and increased the radio-volume in response to a good tune that'd come on, his mobile started buzzing.

Casting a quick peek at the caller, he switched the Bluetooth on 'Haan bol Abdul... so, how's your new office, Manager saab?'

'Abbe where are you?'

'Just out of the phsio appointment...'

'In your own language' Abdul sounded thrilled 'F**k the physio appointment... and get to the hospital... NOW!'

'W...wh...' his jaw dropped 'What are you saying?'

Ya Allah! The words that followed were a daze. The news bloody unbelievable. He removed the Bluetooth off his ear and let the device slip off. So the last words he'd heard would continue to resonate for some time. His forehead subconsciously rested against the steering wheel. As he took a few moments to breathe. To celebrate. To scream. To shout. To laugh - all of it in indescribable relief.

The traffic-light eventually turned green. A myriad of noisy horns started honking behind him, but he couldn't be bothered. Queued-up angry vehicles had to take a detour around his stationary car. Rickshaw drivers peeked into his window so they could curse this 'grinning' man who'd stopped his vehicle slap-bang in the middle of a junction. He couldn't care less.

Because he was busy celebrating. He'd just completed a humongous marathon. And won!

PRIVATE ROOM - LONG TERM CARE WARD

'Fifth time lucky' he struggled to steel himself. Because on four previous occasions, his fingers had coiled around the door handle only to recoil in trepidation. The nerves were unlike anything he'd felt before. His beats so ridiculously wild, he'd stopped trying to keep them under any form of control. This was crazy, silly, scary and ecstasy - all in one 'Damn... open it...Jalal'

And he did - almost expecting to find his girlfriend comatose. Buried under a mask and a series of tubes.

But no sooner than he'd stepped in, the place felt different. MASSIVELY.

Frozen at the entrance, his nervous gazes fell upon her features - the ones he'd become so used to seeing as unresponsive!

'God!' her eyes were open. OPEN! She was smiling. SMILING! At him! His girlfriend was alive. And AWAKE!

'Jo!' he gasped under his breath the moment a massive burden had just been knocked off his shoulders 'Tujhe tho...' he sniggered in disbelief, as he spoke his first words to a 'conscious' Jodha Singh 'Is that really what you told the nurses? Your first words? That you had to wake up because you want to celebrate your 63^rd birthday?'

'To celebrate it with you' she mouthed a correction. And made it a point to beam, though exhausted.

The boyfriend got the message.

***********************************************************