ff: ''a many splendoured thing', update pg. 102 - Page 61

she had been waiting outside of the coffee shop when he had run towards it. he had walked past those tables and windows so often in the past, without paying any attention to it. today it was his mecca and he ran towards it with his heart pounding hard, his eyes flashing to the left and the right, to make sure that he had not missed her. and then he saw her, sitting at a table at the edge of the coffee shop. he had not thought he could move any faster, but it was as if the sight of her lent his feet wings.

it seemed that she had caught sight of him at the same time for she rose, turning towards him as he got nearer. she was dressed in her artists garb, dark clothes overlaid by her black trenchcoat. she held herself stiff and straight, her hands held tightly in each other. she was bracing herself for a difficult encounter. she knew that he would have questions. she knew she owed him explanations. she braced herself.

he had had the painful luxury of spending the past many days and nights on his own, gathering and collecting worries and questions about where she was, why she had gone away. he had had the luxury of sorting them in order of priority, urgency, and various other categories.

but as he ran towards her, all he saw that she was alright, she was safe, this girl that he knew every line of in his heart. which was why the first thing he did when he reached her, was to take her face in his hands, tilting it upwards to look into her eyes. they were wide and dark and stared right back at him. he let out his breath in one word ''heer'' before his arms gathered her close to him, protective and possessive, as if he would never let her go again. his mind was blind to everything except that she was in his arms again, that her mouth was against his again, and that his world had just come back to feeling that it made sense again.

they stood wrapped in each other, in the middle of a busy world filled with people who scurried by. he was not inclined to stop kissing her, and she was not inclined to stop him. when finally he raised his head to look at her again, her face was flushed, those wide eyes drowsy from his kiss. he dropped a kiss on her nose, her cheek. he was dropping forward to kiss her again, when she moved her hand out of his hair to lay her palm against his face.

''prem.'' there was a plea in that voice, and he opened his eyes reluctantly.

her eyes had lost their dreamy expression. the sound in her voice was matched by the look in her eyes, and it cleared prem's head. all the questions that were milling in his mind since she left him came rushing back into the void.

she watched them come alive in his eyes, feeling wretched on the inside.

when she had left him early that morning, she had felt like a thief in her own apartment, moving as noiselessly as she could, her nerves tight and stretched, afraid that the sound of her breathing would wake him up. and she had not wanted him to wake up before she left. it was so difficult to maintain a sense of who she was when she was with him. she had not wanted to lose herself in him as she always wanted to do.

as she wanted to do now when he stood in front of her.

it struck her that she had never seen him so .. rumpled before. there was a sense of disarray about him that was new. it was not just in the ruffled hair or the careless way he wore his clothes. it was in such stark contrast to the calm and collected person she knew prem to be, even lying in an exhausted faint at her feet, that it tore at her heart.

prem reached up to take her hands in his. he looked searchingly at her. and for the first time since he had heard her voice, alive and well on the phone that morning, it struck him where they were.

''heer, why did you ask me to meet you at the airport coffee shop?''

her face was overlaid with a touch of .. fear? heer was afraid?? of what??? of him? of what he would say? and that made him steel himself for what was coming next.

''prem, can we please sit?''

the waitress at the cafe watched the girl hold the boy by the hand, and guide him to the table where she had been sitting for the last three hours. she had noticed the girl beacuse she had been standing outside the cafe doors when she had come in on the morning shift, and opened the shutters. an artist, vandy had noticed, from the portfolio bag that she carried. but she had wondered why the girl clutched it as if it were her lifeline.

through the first few hours that vandy spent serving cups of coffee, tea and pastries, she had noticed the girl walking past the coffee shop several times. it struck her that the artist was walking the entire length of the international terminal -- over and over again. it had been a relief when the artist had finally walked upto a table and placed her bags gently on the floor. she had sat ramrod straight in her chair, as if she was paying penance for a sin.

when vandy had walked upto her to take her order, she saw that the artist's face lived upto her imagination. it was pale, smudged with shadows under the eyes and in the hollow of her cheeks. but it was her eyes that cinched it in vandy's imagination -- beautiful wide eyes, filled with torment.

vandy had wondered about what could torment a pretty young artist so. her romantic soul had been thrilled to see the handsome boy who ran towards the girl. who kissed her with so much obvious desparation and passion that it made her, after so many years of being in a marriage, blush. so much passion, and yet so much pain. vandy sighed. why could love not survive without knowing sorrow?

prem saw the torment in heer's eyes, and felt a helpless rage that anything in the world could have put it there. he tightened his hold on her hand, before leaning to kiss the fingers he lifted to his lips.

''heer...''

''i am flying out on the afternoon flight, prem.'' heer said it baldly. when he stared at her, she said it again, her words tripping over each other as she continued, ''i have been accepted for a painting program at a french school. they don't usually take students in the middle of the year. but...''

prem sat back in his chair, looking at her without comprehension. had heer just said that she was flying out of the city?

''you are leaving on the afternoon flight?''

''yes, the school agreed to make an exception for me. except that they need me to start immediately. i will barely make it on time for the starting week. and... ''

and prem saw that she could not meet his eyes. his heer, who always faced the world squarely in the face. who he had never once seen back away from a difficult situation. she could not meet his eyes. and suddenly, he realised why she had asked to meet him here, at the airport. she was presenting him with a fait accompli. but surely, he could talk problems out with his heer?

he reached over to where she sat, firmly took hold of the chair, and pulled hard till he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, tucking her to him. she looked up at him, her wide eyes startled. prem said softly so that only she could hear, ''what is wrong, heer? what is troubling you?''

under his gaze, her eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered. but her gaze did not waver from his as she said softly, ''i need to leave, prem. i need to leave here. i need to leave you.'' the shoulders under his arm trembled.

''i need to find out who i am. because ever since i met you, everything that i have known and felt has changed. i did not even realise it in the beginning. i had been so sunk in not having bauji, ma and meher. i could not paint. i could not feel the world. i could not feel life. i thought that was how it was supposed to be. how could i feel life when they were dead? but then - then i met you. and.. everything changed, prem. everything.''

he heard a note of helpless in her voice, and felt it resonate inside him. he felt that they were rushing towards an edge at the end of was a drop off into darkness. and it made him say urgently, ''heer, everything changed for me, when i met you, too. ''

he stopped when he saw her eyes flash with incredulity. ''no, prem, it is not the same. you have already done so much, achieved so much. people know of you, admire your work. you lead with your vision and people follow. you shine and people see. you have a sense of permanence, prem. of being there always. not like me. not at all like me.'' she shivered despite being surrounded by his warmth.

''i do not know who i am, prem.'' her voice was so low that he had to strain to hear her. ''all my life, i have always felt like i have been a mirror. all i have done is taken what i see of the world, and show it to others in canvas and paints. where am i in that? where is my space? who am i that i got the right to live when everyone around me died?'' her words sounded like they were being ripped out of her heart. she was holding his hand so tightly that she was hurting him. but he did not care. he was focussed on fighting the demons he could see in her eyes.

''you are not a mere mirror, heer'' his voice was urgent. ''how can you forget how you lifted one man's vision out of the shadows and into the light with your eyes,'' he brushed kisses over her eyelids, ''and your hands.'' and pressed her fingers against his mouth. ''if it hadn't been for you, we would still have been struggling to understand what baba's dream had been.''

she sat still for a moment, considering what he said, and then shook her head slowly. ''no, it was the dream that was important, not me. your father had planted the vision of that dream in the world already. it was in preet, in shakti. it was in everyone who talked to him. it was in you, prem. even if i had not come around, that dream would have lived on.''

she paused, as if a thought had just struck her. ''because nothing as important as a person's dream can be so vulnerable to some stranger's ability to see it, can it? can it?'' she asked him, suddenly urgent, both her hands clutching at his shirt.

he felt powerless. what answer could he give to how she had walked in out of nowhere and presented the world with the solution to his father's dream when no one could understand how she had done that, least of all himself?

she continued, the light in her eyes becoming dim, ''my father had dreams for me. he used to say that i -- my ability,'' she corrected herself almost absent-mindedly, ''was his gift from god. and that he would do all that he could to make sure that it lived. after he died, i thought that i had lost that ability. i thought that what bauji believed was true -- it was his gift, and that i had no right to it if he was not there.''

he saw her focus on him, and there was that unbearable pain in her eyes again, ''when i met you, it was like i rediscovered a whole new way of seeing the world.'' she curved her palm against his cheek, stopping him from shaking his head to negate what she said.

''after bauji died, the first time i wanted to paint was when i saw the home-of-light. structures were so new to me, so different from what i was used to. i was so happy just to feel the urge to paint again, that i did not mind that i was struggling badly with it. and then you became so much a part of my mind. i started seeing you everywhere. including in my paintings. and everything suddenly made sense. i was able to paint. i could make bauji proud once again, even if he was not here to see it.''

she stopped, and was silent for so long that he started hoping that perhaps just talking it out had made her change her mind about leaving. because it was clear to prem that the only thing that mattered to both of them was that she was leaving him. where she was going to was not as important as that. that was the precipice they were at the edge of, and he knew that heer would decide whether they would fall or not.

she seemed to read his thoughts, because she answered him ''i have to leave, prem. i need to know that i can make my father proud. and,'' she lay her fingers against his mouth as he moved to speak, ''i need to do it on my own. just as much as you did it on your own.''

she looked at him with immeasureable love in her eyes. ''soni told me how you left what you loved doing most to do an mba, just so that he could have a son handling the finances in the business. and i have seen how much you love working with material -- it is that love which helped me see your father's dream cathedral, you know, prem. i just saw his dream through what you saw when you worked at the garden, what you felt when you touched the stone. and i could see how your father would have wanted his cathedral done.''

she smiled sadly, ''i could never be a son for my father, never help him in his business. but i can make sure that his name is not forgotten. and i need to know i can do it without you. because, prem,'' she cradled his face, leaning against him, ''you fill me. so much that i forget everything. what i want, what i need, what i feel, what i see. there is only you, and i,'' she swallowed, ''i fear that with you beside me, i will forget them.''

he grabbed her to him so tightly that she was nearly in his lap as he whispered fiercely into her ear, ''i will not let you forget, heer, i swear i will not let you forget. we will work together heer, to build a legacy -- for both your father and mine. you do not know how much i owe you for having shown us my father's dream, to fulfil it. please let us, me, do that for you as well, heer. we can do it, heer. don't leave.''

she held him, then, as fiercely as he held her, she returned his kisses with fervour. after all, they both knew that the love was omnipresent, infinite. but as she settled back in her chair, while still nestling against his heart, he knew that the decision was hers and hers alone, because the quest was hers and hers alone. all he could believe that one day the quest would be done, and that she would return to him. that, just as he had fought his own personal battles to come to her, she would do the same for him.

so he did not ask her where she was going, or if she would write. instead, he just held her for as long as he could, kissed her as often as he could. and when she stirred reluctantly in his arms as the boarding call of her flight was announced, he did not ask if he could walk her to her gate. instead, he stood and poured all of his love for her into his kiss, cementing all their love and what it had been and all that it could be, into that last crush of his mouth on hers.

he knew she understood in the tear-bright eyes that she lifted to him. they both smiled at each other as she hefted her portfolio bag onto one shoulder, and picked up the brownstone paintbox in her other hand. and he stood and watched her walk away from him, the gold letter on the box twinkling in the golden rays of the sunset streaming through the tall windows of the airport.

when she had vanished out of sight, prem sat down in the chair abruptly as if his legs could not hold him anymore, his face expressionless. and sat there till the flight departure was announced, and for a while after that, as if to confirm that she was really not coming back.

''would you like something, sir? or are you waiting for somebody?'' the waitress who had come to their table, had a kindly air about her. he was tempted to ask her whether she had seen the girl who had been with him a little while ago. whether she could confirm for him that the girl had walked away and he had let her go.

instead, he remembered the light in heer's eyes and the smile through the tears on her face as she had taken the brownstone leather paintbox with ''heer maan, artist consultant, lalit juneja & sons, pvt. ltd.'' on it. his eyes turned inward to that memory, prem smiled at vandy, shaking his head, and stood up to leave, wondering where he could go to wait for someone who was worth waiting forever for.