Parvati Ke Nuskhe
Hearing the tread of well-worn slippers down the corridor, Paro hastily picked up the covered plate of food she'd kept warm on the stove-top and carried it to the dining table.
Now that he'd finally been given the go-ahead by the BSD medical team-- he had returned to work and was busy trying to sort out the neglected paperwork in the Tejawat case. He never came home before 11 PM, by which time the rest of the family had retired to their respective bedrooms. The first time she'd tried eating with him, he'd bitten her head off. Paro had learned her lesson since, and ate with the family. But she would not stop waiting up for him. The least she could do was ensure that he came home to a plate of hot food and someone waiting for him at the table.
And it may just have had something to do with her desire to spend some time with him, away from everyone else. Mornings were terribly busy. She didn't have a minute to spare from the crack of dawn-- which is when she woke up-- until after breakfast had been served, consumed, the table cleared, and the prep for the day's meals and household chores begun.
By then, he would have left and she saw him only after he came home late at night.
No matter how exhausting her day, wild horses couldn't keep her away from the table while he ate in complete silence and ill-disguised relish.
As he got up from the table after finishing his food and she leaned forward to clear his place, she fought to keep the rising colour from her cheeks. Forcing herself to breathe normally, she spent an inordinately long amount of time picking up his plate and glass. She couldn't look him in the eye however, and fled to the kitchen, her courage deserting her.
With a rueful shake of her head, she tucked her dupatta securely over her chest and around her waist.
What had she been thinking? What madness had seized her? She couldn't do this! She didn't know how! And why did she need to try so hard anyway? Weren't men supposed to take the initiative? Yet, he'd never laid a finger on her except to assist her when she needed help somewhere. Maa Trisula, what was wrong with him? What was wrong with her? Surely it wasn't wrong for her to want her own husband to touch her?
~~~~~~~~
Rudra pushed the chair back with a shove and stalked into their room, heading right back into the bathroom. Parvati and her carelessness would be the death of him! Instead of its usual position over her chest and around her waist, her dupatta had fallen to the side during dinner. And when she'd leaned over to pick up his plate, she'd had no idea how close she'd come to being swept up in his arms and carried to their room.
Why couldn't she be more careful, damn it?
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