NEW FF: Hum Aapke Hai Kaun..P. 23 NEW NOTE

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varshini karthik

@.vrshn.

Rocker

+ 3

Posted: 12 years ago

#61

hmm.. i guess this one we have read it earlier too... as the story progresses we will comment in detail hun... sorryy parm ji.. tour time at college :( :(

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Amina

@-Ammie-

Sparkler

+ 3

Posted: 12 years ago

#62

amazing update!

really nicely written and m loving how the story is progressing!

looking forward to the next update!

brilliant writing!

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vishruta

@vishruta

Navigator

+ 2

Posted: 12 years ago

#63

LOVED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

love ya,

ViShRuTa😳

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Ramona

@PristineSoul

Sparkler

+ 3

Posted: 12 years ago

#64

Rishabh is so quite.. and shy... I like this side of his. Waiting for more Rishbala moments.

Enjoyed reading the update Ji..

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Dark Charm

@WildestDreams

Moderator

+ 70

Posted: 12 years ago

#65

Kill meee...I forgot to upload on the USB key the doc with RishBala updates XD...I'll upd once I got back to home.

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Dark Charm

@WildestDreams

Moderator

+ 70

Posted: 12 years ago

#66

Hello everyone,

THANKS

neha31, sonukidd, SwagataPanja, SHINYSHREYA, aroran, Angel.Khushi, Syed695, zoshad3119, PristineSoul, vishti.dvd, arunsunita_gm, ruhakhan, trishadcute, angeldream14, SAnonymous, LadyFlame, -Ammie-, Varshu_Karthik, .Dulcet, Phoenix.Xeelan, punam2712, todayzstar, ,

and a big HUG to all the member who commented and the silent member who hit like button. I don't eat you, so comment ji.

So it's a kind request to all of you to comment occasionally.

You'll make me very happy ji😳

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Dark Charm

@WildestDreams

Moderator

+ 70

Posted: 12 years ago

#67

Memory lane is a two-way street (One Tree Hill)
You have to swim. If you stop swimming, is the end.

I cannot.
I cannot.
This is too much.
Too cold, too dark, too much pain.
Too much.
Look at the lights. You see, they are there. They're waiting for you. You have to swim
There were also hours ago. I will not be ever. My head hurts, I cannot feel my legs. And I am so, so tired ...
No. Do not stop swimming. No. No!

"No, no, no ... no!"

"It's just a dream, wake up ..."

Where is that voice? I have to swim. I continue to swim ...

"Open your eyes, please ..."

Something touches my forehead, touches my hair.
Someone told me to open my eyes?
The water is gone, I'm not swimming.
Where am I?
I have to do as tells me this voice. I have to open my eyes.

"Hey, finally. I was afraid of not being able to wake up ... "
Rishabh.
He's sitting at the edge of the bed, a worried expression on his face. I lever arms to lift me, and I sit up too.
"I ... I'm sorry, I did not want to be pushy, but uncle advised to wake you up to make sure everything goes well, and you yelled in the sleep ..." he hastens to say, almost as if to justify. As always, he keeps his eyes down, hiding his face behind his hair.
Intrusive. I am a complete stranger, I'm sleeping in his bedroom, and he feels intrusive because he is here to make sure that I'm fine. He apologize for getting up in the mid of the night to make sure I was okay.
Well, what did you expect? After the way you treated before ...
I'm a horrible person. Ungrateful and horrible.
"Do not ... do not apologize ..." I mumbled, embarrassed. The voice is insecure, and I wish I could say that it is only the fault of the bad dream.
Yeah, dream. It seemed so ... real ...
I keep my eyes fixed on my hands playing with the edges of the bedspread, as I try to continue the courage to speak. "I ... I'm sorry I sent away like that last night. I had no right to do so, especially after ... after all you've done for me "
I look for a few seconds for a reply, but it does not come. My eyes go from my hand to his, holding on his lap.
I remember their heat, remember the delicacy of their touch.
And before I knew what I'm doing, I stretch my fingers to touch his. I see them as if they were my own fingers, as if I weren't able to command them.
I should stop them, but I cannot. Or perhaps, more simply I do not want to.
I keep looking at them, waiting for the moment when it will be nearly his.
But that moment never comes.
Rishabh quickly away his hand , standing up.
"As... because it's all right, I'm going down..." his voice controlled, almost distant, and I feel myself blush with embarrassment.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. What were you thinking?
I find myself looking everywhere but not at him. On the bedside table is a steaming cup. I read the little tag hanging from the bag. Chamomile.
It's just a cup of chamomile tea, do not get any ideas.
But I cannot see just a cup of chamomile tea.
I see a guy who gets kicked out of his own bedroom, who rises in the mid of the night to make sure that a stranger is okay. I see a guy who prepares a chamomile to help her back to sleep, even though this girl has not done much to deserve it.
Only a few hours ago you thought he was a serial killer. Already changed my mind?
What the hell.
"Rishabh, wait ..." I say, turning to him.
He is standing at the door. A hand grabs the handle, the other is stretched out along the side.
"If you want ... if you want ... you can stay here ... we ..." What? What can you do, eh? "We can talk a bit, if you want ..."
Here you are. Speak. It is not a request so absurd, no? Well I'll have to start somewhere ...
Rishabh did not answer. He remains unmoved, and shake his hand which is lying on his side in a fist. The knuckles turn white, and for a second I'm afraid that I made him angry. I think again that I am a fool to stay here with him, and that if he wanted to could hurt me at any time.
For a second, I again fear.
It is only a moment, though. The time required to Rishabh to turn around and meet my gaze.
His eyes are green, bright green, kind and wonderful.
And sad. Infinitely sad.
"It'd better to let you rest ... in a few hours uncle will come, and you need to regain your strength ..."
His voice is warm and gentle again. There is no trace of coolness a little while ago, and I only beg him to change his mind, to sit next to me, and keep talking.
But I cannot.
I grit my teeth, I do not know if the embarrassment of rejection and I find the strength to answer.
"Yeah ... you're right. Goodnight then ... "
"Good night." Rishabh paints a smile, and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
I turn off the light, and for the second time tonight I let myself lulled by my sobs and my tears.

***

"Come on, sleeping beauty, it is time to wake up ..."
Slowly, I open my eyes, seeing the figure of Megha sitting at the edge of the bed. She smiles, and her good humor morning is almost contagious.
Almost.

"How are you?"
"Well ..." I say without thinking, my voice thick with sleep.
It is not true, of course: my head is bursting, my eyes are so swollen that I can barely open them, and every muscle in my body is stiff and sore, as if I had run a marathon.
I feel awful.
"Honey, let me tell you ... you do not know how to tell lies. Let us try this: how are you? "
"Ok, I'm in pieces. Happy now? "The tone is harder than I wanted, and I immediately feel guilty.
Megha, like Rishabh, did nothing but be nice to me.
What the hell did I do wrong? I am not able to have a healthy and civilized relationship with people?
Perhaps I'm socially maladjusted.
Crazy, and socially maladjusted.
Fantastic.
"No, of course I'm not happy ... but there is no need to pretend that everything is perfect when it is not, do not you think?" she settle a strand of hair behind my ear, and she smiles at me once again.
"You're right, Megha, I'm sorry ..."
"Shhh, do not tell even as a joke. I can only imagine how hard it is for you right now, it's just ... it's years since I hear "Quiet Megha, I'm fine, everything's fine" when it is clear that all is not well. But you do not centers nothing to do with this, and I'm rambling. "
"Megha, I'm lost. What are you talking about? "Why do I have the distinct feeling that it refers to Rishabh?
"Nothing baby, nothing ... now think about us. You have to dress, my father is downstairs and waits for us to go to the police station." Megha stands up and deviates slightly the quilt that covers me, urging me to get up.
I look around, lost in thought, looking for clothes that obviously I did not find. After all, is not my home, it is not my room. I let go a sigh of exasperation, which draws the attention of Megha.
"Are you okay?" She asks, and deviates the window curtains.
The moment it does, I realized I had not yet seen even a glimpse of the small island that is home to me. Complying with curiosity, I move fast but with uncertain steps toward the window.
And what I see leaves me breathless.
The house is surrounded by greenery and overlooking a high cliff. Before me, the vast expanse of the sea, the waves crashing on the rocks. Looking down, I can see a pier, on which some boats are moored, and a small cove with white sand. The sun is hidden by dark gray clouds threatening rain, and the sun filtering through they do nothing but make the landscape even more evocative.
It's wonderful.
Support slightly the fingers of one hand on the glass of the window, while I was still enchanted watching the cormorants dive from the rocks into the water.
"Impressive, huh?" Megha whispered to me, staring horizon.
"Why did Rishabh live here all alone and not with you in town?" I asked as the landscape is beautiful and amazing, it seems impossible that a guy chooses to live in the middle of nowhere, rather than close to his family, a few kilometers away .
"How, he did not he tell you? What kind of rude ... "
"What would he tell me?" I avoid to add that if there is a rude between the two is me: a little out of embarrassment, a little because the curiosity to know, finally, something about Rishabh is great. Too much.
"This is not simply the home of Rishabh... this is especially the lighthouse on the island, and Rishabh is the guardian."
"Rishabh? The Guardian? Means that he is forced to stay here forever? "
Rishabh. The keeper of a lighthouse. Why a young boy, with his whole life ahead ... should choose a similar job? Why should he choose to isolate himself in this way? I cannot believe that it is because of the scar. The world is full of people with faces disfigured much of his, who do not hide on an island the size of a postage stamp.
And then, why should he hide?
Rishabh is ... simply ... handsome.
"Rishabh is not forced to stay here, honey ..." says Megha, her voice suddenly sad. "Rishabh wants to be here. He could do everything, everything ... but he chose to come here. "
"What do you mean? I thought you lived here ... all that your family was originally from the island ..."
"A native? Oh, no ... " A bitter chuckle accompanies the words of Megha. "Rishabh decided to come here eight years ago. And then ... he never went away. "
"Are you telling me that since eight years Rishabh has not set foot on land? He lives here, alone, to guard a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere? Why Megha? How is it possible that this is what he wants? "
Megha continues to look out the window, but her eyes are absent. She is in silent for a moment, probably surrounded by some memory.
"The story of Rishabh... it's not a good story. It is not an easy story, and even though I am convinced that there will be a happy ending for him, because God knows he deserves it ... for the moment there is nothing happy. "Megha sighs deeply and shakes her head.
"But happy or not, is the story of Rishabh , and it is not my job to tell you about it. Go get dressed now, my father is wondering what happened to us. "
I would insist, I would like to ask her a million questions and stand here in front of this window for another two hours. I want to immerse myself in the story of Rishabh and forget that I do not have one. But no matter how strong curiosity, I know that Megha is right: it is her job to tell me about Rishabh's story .
But Rishabh, will narrate his story to me, a complete stranger?

"Megha, you know where are my clothes?"
Although the idea to slip those dirty clothes is not attractive, the alternative is to go out with pajama pants for men too big for me. That is not a real alternative, of course. I just hope they are dry ...
"And you really believe that I came here to make you dress, without taking clothes?" says Megha in a tone of mock hurt. "Ah, how many things you have to learn ..." She approaches the bed and picks up a huge bags, and then pass them to me.
"They are all in your size, of course. Choose something that you like and dress up. "
I look at the contents of the envelopes, and I am speechless.
Clothes of all kinds, shoes, underwear There is also a vanity case, which contains products of all types.
I look up to Megha, who is watching me with an amused expression.
"Megha, all this stuff ... it's all new! I cannot accept! "
"Oh, you can accept it, and you'll accept. You have in front of you the owner of the best and unique clothing store on the island. This means that, technically, I did not buy anything. And I do not want you to go around so ... "she says, pointing to my clothing with a grimace. I put the envelopes on the floor, and I rush to embrace her with all the strength in my body.
Because, seriously, what else could I do?
"Megha, I have no words to thank you. All you're doing to me ... thank you. Really. "
Her arms, thin but strong, reciprocate my grip with equal energy.
"You're welcome sweetie. Something tells me I'll like to thank you in a bit of time ... "
"Uh? Why should you thank me? "I ask, looking her face.
"Nothing, nothing ..." she shakes her head, smiling. "Just a feeling. But rarely I'm wrong in these things ... "
I decided to ignore her words, apparently meaningless, and I lean back on the envelopes. I choose a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt, a gray sweatshirt and converse, grab the beauty and make my way to the bathroom.
As expected, my clothes are perfect. Even the shoes are the right number, and I do not know whether to be happy or simply terrified by the precision of Megha. Moreover, in those envelopes there is a whole wardrobe. How does she think I'll stop here, months?
I have a life, however. I do not know where, but I have a house waiting for me. A family.
I need to believe that I've this things, because the alternative ...
No. I do not want to think about the alternative.

When we go down the stairs, we find Rishabh and Kuku 's uncle sat at the table, chatting as they do breakfast. They both turn to us when they hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
"Oh, well, you're standing. How do you feel? " uncle asked me, rising from his chair and coming on meeting me.
"I'm ... I'm better, thanks. Rishabh was very kind to me tonight ... "I reply, hoping that the message is read by the recipient.
Rishabh, listen to me. It's my way to say sorry. It's my way of saying thank you.
He turns to me, and for a moment our eyes lock.
His green eyes sparkle, and I feel like hypnotized.
I wait for the moment when his gaze will get lower, or turn the other side ... but that moment never comes.
Instead, Rishabh smiles at me. It just sketched, the lips are closed, but it's enough to make me feel my heart in my throat and a strange twinge in my stomach.
Or maybe it's hungry.
Yes, it certainly is hunger.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. By the way, he was saying that you had a nightmare that has upset you a lot ... you want to talk about? "
"I ... it was so ... real ..." I close my eyes, and it's as if I was back in water alone, scared, desperate. "It was night, and I was swimming ... and ... I was so tired I could hardly stay afloat ... but I could see the lights of the mainland, and I told myself, swim, you swim' ... but it was so hard ..."
"Shhh ... It's okay, you're safe now. Do not cry, it's okay ... "uncle extends his hand to shake mine, in a discreet gesture but loving at the same time.
I nodded my head, and with my free hand I try to wipe away the tears that wet my cheeks.
"You know, I do not think it was just a nightmare ... I think it was a memory. It is very common in cases of amnesia as yours, remember facts or events through dreams. And listening to what you said to me ... it seems simply impossible that this is a case of a nightmare. But I think that you have remembered your last minute alert. It is likely that you have lost your senses, now very close to the island, and that the current have dragged you to shore, where you been found by Rishabh and Megha. "
Uncle's words do nothing but increase my sobs, and in response his grip on my hand becomes stronger.
"It's a good sign, you must not cry. Your brain remembers, it just needs time to get over the trauma. It is a good sign, "he repeated, his eyes fixed on mine confident.
"And now ... what should I do now?"
"Now, you and me are going to the police station, and try to understand how the hell you found in the open sea in the middle of the night."