Part B
Hey guys, I realized that his is getting to be super long! So therefore, there is actually a Part C coming as well… Of course, meri rambles itni jaldi kaise khatam ho sakti hain *slaps hand on forehead*… Sorry…
Stone… the silence was like a stone… immovable… impenetrable… Yet somewhere amidst the mute, there was a restless noise… Quiet it was, but ever-present… throbbing relentlessly in his ears. He couldn't fathom what it meant right now… what was behind that chaos. It was excruciating, yet he did not make an effort to ward it off. All he could see was the black ink… against the once clean almond. His hooded eyes moved calmly along the perfectly curved lines… until… the one end… A steeled utensil played at the mercy of his slender fingers… dancing to a surprisingly rhythmic tune… The last stroke… His stare turned hard… as he traced it again… The soft landing of the pen upon the oak surface filled the air for a passing second.
As though sensing his turmoil, a thick gust of air jingled in the night… The night… it too, had stood silent… for long minutes… until now. A strange internal smile broke within him as his mind lingered upon the thought… momentarily allowing relief from the previous agony. There had moments before, been silence outside the large rectangular glass … but it had veiled an unspoken storm… As this storm let loose, who knew what it would cause… who it would take with it… There was a storm building within him too… Quietly… under the deceptive mask he had always managed to conjure… If the storm living… growing… inside of him, erupted… If it were unleashed… what havoc would it cause? Again, the wind howled… An unexpected rage gripped him, as his eyes twitched once more at the smudged ink… Momentarily giving in, he slammed the leather book shut. So doing, he fell back into the dark chair… leaning his head deeply into the neck rest. It was strange how even in moments of isolation, he managed to carry that deceiving look… as though even the walls had potential to see through… Lately, that feeling of uncertainty had been penetrating him deeper than necessary… but again, he never lost control… never. His gaze was pensive to the wanderer… but the mind was as blank as the once clean sheet of paper… he had recently writ upon…
In a whiff of aloofness, he rose from the seat... slowly finding his way towards the glass... Glass... So vividly he could see through this glass... judge the density of the storm... the life outside... Trailing a few wandering leaves live at the mercy of the fervent air, he followed them until the night took them in its embrace... entirely... Instinctively, his hand outstretched towards the direction it flew... a breath away from the glass... it hesitated... Amazed, he retreated the hand... in awe of the connection he had momentarily felt... a strange sense of loss bit him... causing a few forgotten blinks of the eyes...
A few more leaves now gathered in the air... albeit unwillingly... as though mirroring the restraint he had built over the years... the temptation to give in being so intense… "Good evening Mr. Mehra." A hard, resounding voice sliced through the silence. Almost immediately, his mental vision jerked into motion… accompanying the familiar voice with a familiar face… A part of him felt he should turn at the moment… but the other part needed no confirmation. But even if it had, for a pause in time his feet refused to budge. "Mr… Vikram-Aditya Mehra…" Instantly, his eyes met the face reflecting from the glass… The reflection was slightly blurred… but he stared into it, as though it were there… in front of him… clear… Turning slowly, it dawned on him… the faint changes in the tone of voice.
"Evening… Ma'am," he offered the confident figure emerging from the shadows of his study. Obliviously, his hands had fallen into the confinement of his trouser pockets… as though holding on to something… "Aye… Please, have a seat," he said with easy control whilst nodding slightly towards his right where a small gathering of dark leather furniture welcomed the glance.
She looked fleetingly upon the direction of his insistence a few minutes ago, stealthily holding him in the grasp of her vision. It immediately came upon her notice, how new the furniture looked. Despite the distance, the barely touched features did not fail to go passed her unnoticed. He was alone today… almost to her relief. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she bit it aside. It was no secret to her how Vikram-Aditya Mehra influenced her. Deep within, she knew entirely how despite the distance he had been with her… strangely. She did not seem to share such a relationship with any of her grandchildren as much as this young man intrigued her. Indeed, all were equal recipients of her love… but there was a stronger, rare element of respect that emanated from her at his sight. Standing a few steps away… relishing the safety of the shadows, a tender glow clouded over her for a precious moment. Recognizing her own voice as she addressed him, a silent train of curses escaped from within… Praying internally, she hoped he had failed to notice…
A few seconds passed heavily in the air. It was as though a breath of air held back… A mute thanks left him as he heard her footsteps approach. But they did not direct towards where he had expected. Rather, he watched the lady turn swiftly towards his desk… her long, experienced fingers traced the edge of the large mahogany surface. Watching the insignificant movement, he felt strangely transfixed… unable to respond to anything. Her hand now extended towards the paper-weight sitting a few inches away from the solitary rectangular frame sitting on the far right. Driven by an awakened curiosity, he took a few steps into the dim lighting of the standing lamp. He had long forgotten to blink as her eyes captivated his attention. There was an odd mixture of shrewd bitterness and nostalgic sadness in them… It was in this moment, he realized something beyond the professionalism of this unexpected relationship of his… with this woman. She was a mystery to him… always had been. Even in those nonchalant days in college, he had always received Parvati Agarwal with an undue reverence. He may have never surfaced it, but there was an almost saintly quality about her that had intrigued him. The lightness of her eyes indicated their faraway demeanour… as though she had transported into some other realm.
"Bahut der lagadee aapne…" (You took a long time…) Startled, he turned his attention away from the paper-weight playing in her finger… the frigid aloofness of her gaze… to her face… taking it in entirely for the first time. She stared at him with an invasive expression… almost threatening. But despite the situation, he couldn't help but realize how beautiful she was. In fact, the word seemed less to describe her. He didn't know why, but the thought strangely took him back a few hours… into the previous meeting in this room… But at that time, there was the presence of his grandfather. A curious smile edged inside him in wonder. Rather than expressing this uncalled-for reflection, he simply did the most obvious. "Ji?" (Pardon?)… Not leaving her presence, his eyes trailed the sudden fall of the hard object, which had abruptly found release from her fingers… He watched as she crossed her arms determinedly… wondering at the fortitude… as though it hid something… something. "Dr. Mehra, aaj taq aapne bahut saare mareezon ka ilaaj kiya hoga…" (Dr. Mehra, to this day you have likely treated numerous patients…) He followed her trail randomly around his bureau… "Doctors ko zaroorat hoti hai waqt ki… joh unke paas bahut kam hota hai…" (Doctors require time… which they have little of…) She stopped now, towering behind his chair… the dim light having received a new energy from her presence. "Toh jab aapko waqt ne mauka diya… kyun itni der…" (So if time gave you a chance… then why so long…) There it was again… A faint hint of fragility in the voice… a rare phenomenon as far as he knew.
He could have warded it off… but he was not so naive… Why had he taken so long? The question had decidedly eaten into him relentlessly… and the only answer had been that silent pleading… pleading of her eyes… Adi, tumhe meri kasam… "Adi…" Jerking into the moment again, he momentarily wondered what had happened… and returned to his shell just as quickly. She had now returned just before him… he had obliviously caught the paper-weight lingering at her toes. "Khair… Kal, ek choti si party host kari ja rahi hai College ke auditorium mein… as is the annual affair. Ab jab Mr. Mehra iss waqt…" (Anyways… Tomorrow, in the evening a small gathering is taking place in the College auditorium… as is the annual affair. Now then, as Mr. Mehra at this time…). The rest of the words fainted against the darkened tone of her voice as it echoed upon the name once more… Mr. Mehra. It took him a few strands of restraint from voicing the cause of his subtle aloofness.
Slowly re-acquainting with her face, he watched her stare back intently as though judging his reception. Bending forth, he looked towards the multifaceted paper-weight hovering at her toes. Taking it within his grasp, his fingers contemplated its structure for a pause… before lightly pushing is further into his hand, so to allow his fingers brush barely passed her feet… And just as swiftly, he was facing her again… straight and confident… "I'll be there Ma'am," was all he allowed her the comfort of… yet he knew she knew more… A barely alive smile crossed her lips as she turned to leave… suddenly turning mid-step. The curiosity overwhelmed him, but he masked it with a creaseless face. A forgotten sensation revisited him as he felt her hand tenderly rest upon his rough cheek… Mayuri Mehra had passed away years earlier… but remnants of her motherly touch had remained hidden deep within him. Perhaps that is what cause the sudden fog that that emerged across his eyes… as he watched her disappear…
Countless minutes had passed… until he finally relieved the marked area he had remained upon. Turning back towards the chair silently awaiting his presence, he graced it sinking into the deep leather… Finding the rectangular black of the book, his fingers grazed over it for a dripping minute… before finally opening to the most recent entry…
Udtaan pirah hoon main kabse…Ek pata bejaan jaise…
Dhali hai ye fiza ab…ruka hoon main wahin… tab se…
Toot gaya hai lamha khamoshi ka…
Hai liya hawon ne naya modh…
Seene mein leke dafan ek aandhi…
Ye toofan dega bikhre har pallon ko jodh…
Maithali... Lifting the pen, the slight crinkle in the smooth paper made the pressure upon that last word... that name... evident. Gazing over the entry for a purposeful second more, he closed the book, settling it in an honest corner of the drawer. Locking it, he looked up indifferently... his attention having again being grasped by the aandhi outside... "Main zaroor aoonga Ma'am... zaroor..." he spoke into the deafening silence... as it resonated against the lifeless walls... echoing them awake from years of dormancy.
*~*
The crowd seemed to be over-crowding now... as the music attempted to intrude into the bubble of stillness she had created around her. A certain restlessness had cropped into her when she had stared at herself in the dark glass of her mirror... as she readied for this night's function. It had been years... five to be exact, since she had been here... in this college... She wasn't exactly sure what it was, but something about this place unnerved her... as though threatening to divulge long forgotten… buried… secrets.
The A.C. was running smoothly, she had made sure. Why was she perspiring then? Why had she ever agreed to coming here... For Parvati mamma's sake she reminded herself. And Shruti Maa… Parvati had specifically asked her to see to the arrangements. She suddenly recalled the previous night as she had found Shruti sitting outside on the long swing. Her thoughts seemed to be faraway... it was as though something were amiss. It crawled on her... that feeling. That feeling of incompleteness… the feeling of uncertainty… It seemed to bite at her oblivious delusion of control. She had approached her, sitting next to her on that swing... settling her head against Shruti's shoulder. Shruti had acknowledged her through her soft motherly strokes of the hair… Nothing was said… but even the silence seemed to have a voice… a cracked, broken… voice. Back to the present, she stared mechanically into her surroundings. Absent-mindedly, she kept walking towards the outside… as though she were in the centre. A faint, but unexpected vision occurred in her thoughts. The guest-list… Mehra. The air abruptly seemed to have dimmed. Stopping a passing waiter, she indulged in a glass of water. Settling it on an unoccupied corner of a drink counter, she quickly walked away… into the darkness… the shadows… Standing in an equally shunned corner, a pair of eyes followed her figure with hawk-like stringency.
Rubbing her shoulders, she kept walking further into the night. The night air was crisp and sudden… igniting a chill as it rushed across her body. She didn't know where she was headed… just that she needed to get away… away not just from this crowd… but from what was brewing within her. As much as she tried, it seemed so inescapable… inevitable… Lost amidst strange thoughts, she stopped. Looking up, she recognized the tall street lamps emitting light onto a rectangular cement surface… The basketball court. Her heart seemed to stop just as the reality read into her. A part of her decided to run. But another… perhaps more significant portion… was stoned. There was that pull… that nostalgic feeling of having lost something… and standing at precisely the spot where the loss had occurred. Her stilled eyes jerked into wild motion the picture came alive in distant… foggy patches… slowly clearing… much to her despair. Unable to stand the sudden pressure of time, she held out a hand for support to her side. Holding onto a thick object she realized she had for a while, been holding her breath.
Taking quick breaths, she straightened herself… her eyes finally reclaimed by the surroundings… the circular object sitting next to her foot. Bending slowly, she took the orange object into her hands… rising obliviously at the same time. Elements of surprise… reminicense… pain… and a strange awkwardness etched into her features as she cradled the object in her hands. Turning around, she looked up instinctively… Above her stood the net…
* Flashback *
Her heart seemed to pound in her ears as she realized how insanely he had come to affect her. So much so, that she had forgotten… forgotten that she was a widow… she had a child… The voices of the ladies scattered in her mind… Taunting her. No! She couldn't do this, she couldn't ruin his life… it would only hurt her much more. Reclaiming his gaze, she suddenly seemed to find a new lease… "Adi, ye… ye nahin ho sakta… Tum… Main…" Her voice betrayed her… Curses… Blinking away the fire in her eyes, she quenched the thirst building within her. Stepping a breath closer, she brought forth her hand in an unexpected gesture towards his cheek… stopping herself mere inches away. Closing them momentarily, she reopened her eyes… still challenged by his. "Vikram-Aditya… aur Maithali… ye do naam kabhi ek saath nahin liye jaa sakte Adi…" His stare was venomous… Sweet venom, why didn't the earth just swallow her now? Holding restraint, she looked around desperately trying to find a way to convince him. Her eyes were thankfully tamed by the circular object laying a few feet away. Without a thought, she walked towards it… Holding it in her hands, she turned towards him once more… a distinct note of determination evident in her voice. "Agar tum jeete… toh joh tum kaho… Lekin agar main… Toh tumhe meri baat maan-ni hogi." His eyes were rough… She knew he would never refuse… She knew how well he played… he did as well. But right now, this was no ordinary game… there was much more at stake… and she knew the value. "Vaadah…" He offered a slight nod in response.
Standing in the distant, a stiff figure witnessed the game of life being played out by these two players. Each side seemed so determined… they felt that they could control their destiny… Fools, who knew the tricks of life better than herself… Parvati Agarwal. Her heartbeat slugged as she realized the girl having tossed the winning ball into the hoop… But there was no winner's happiness evident in her stance… Who ever celebrated loss. Indeed, if anything… this game was a game of loss…
Curses… It was as though a stream of wild emotions had been let loose in him. What had happened… "Maithaleeee…" he whispered delicately… afraid to let his moment pass… He could hear the music emoting through the walls inside… as though mocking him…
Raat bhar deedaye numnaankh mein lehra te rahe…
Raat bhar deedaye numnaankh mein lehra te rahe…
Saans ki tar se aap aathe rahe… jaathe rahe…
Her eyes… he stared helplessly into them… as they pleaded… He knew she would relent… if it were not for that thin thread holding her together… There was no way he could let her break… not without her will…
Dard hadh se… guzar tah ja raha hai…
Dard hadh se… guzar tah ja raha hai…
Koi chalah ja raha hai…
The air hung with a bitterness he had never before experienced… but knew it would be the only air he would ever claim now… as he watched her walk away… His shadow outstretched towards her figure… A faint source of hope flickered deep within… as he watched life turn away… He would remain with her… as her shadow…
* End Flashback*
Contemplating the object in her hand, it all came rushing back… like an overwhelmingly unstoppable current… covering her mind entirely… As if to confirm it all, she felt a distinctly familiar tinge as it ran from her hand up… Looking towards the source, she realized a hand had found the base of the basketball hoop… It didn't take her a minute to realize who it was… the object in hand fell with a soft thud onto the recently mowed lawn. Her mind told her to walk… her body again… refused. Soon, another hand outstretched from behind her… the other side… effectively caging her in between. She could feel him stand behind her… she could see his face… the unreadable expression. An acute despair built within, but she felt immovable.
"Wohi jagah… wohi logh… Faraq hai… toh bas… wohe paanch saal ki doori…" The hairs at the back end of her neck straightened as the whispered voice rang in her ear… The lips barely grazed her skin… but she felt as though her world had been shaken… directly from its root.
Btw, the song is from "Woodstock Villa" sung by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan... Highly recommended!
Comments/Criticisms/Suggestions!
Cheers,
dc
Edited by desi chic - 17 years ago
Itti Si Khushi Sab TV
Bade Achhe Lagte Hain
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
