If there was one word he could associate to her, it would be and. An addition, an inclusion, an exception. She has always been the and in his life. He doesn't know how else to classify her, how else to address her in relation to his life but has found her name always follows after an and in his conversations, plans and thoughts.
When he talks about his career, he credits his talent, handwork, luck and her. When he sends invites for his birthday, he sends it to his family, friends and her. When he thinks about dance he thinks of passion, purpose and her. And, an ampersand, and, the last word, thought, notion that completes the sentence. And the one thing that doesn't fit into a box, can't be neatly labeled and addressed in a more collective form.
And, he thinks, suits her. She is a force in herself. She's Shakti after all and he doesn't know anyone whose name is such an apt description of their entire being, their whole essence. And, all his sentences feel incomplete without it. And, his life seems incomplete without her. She is more than a friend, less than family, not his love in the conventional meaning, nor just his colleague and dance partner. And. She is and. Always an inclusion, always an addition.
And, his only exception.
He's home to her.
It is a strange notion to have, to make one person your landing pad but that's the best way she can describe her relationship with him. Not that she ever tell anyone, even him. Though she has a feeling he know. But he's never pointed it out to her and that doesn't surprise her either. She has never even admitted it out of herself, is scared of the implications that would entail and finds herself incapable of facing them, addressing them. They always go with the safe answer and she finds the term friends almost insulting, to him, to her, to what they share, to them. But she doesn't have the strength to go into the details, doesn't have the time and energy required to explain to the world, to their fans what it is they truly are.
They have fans as weird as that sounds. And this is what she scares her. People who love to see them together, people who pray for them to become a conventional couple. It frightens her, the weight of expectations, and their questioning gaze that follows their every move, read into their every interaction. He's her comfort zone and she hates feeling conscious of everything she says to him. Longs for the privacy they share away from the flashing lights. And in those precious moments she gets away from prying eyes, she finds herself letting go, letting loose and just be. No baggage, no expectations, free and floating. The way she feels when she leaps into air and finds him catching her before she lands. He never lets her fall and he never stops her from taking off, patiently waits for her to return.
Which is why she goes around the world but always comes to him. He's her home and homes never move away.
When they finally get together, they are both tired to their bones and far older than their actual age.
He's got two failed marriages behind him and she's got a few achievements that have faded with time. He's given up on love and she finds herself done chasing dreams. They're both jaded and exhausted. The media gaze has moved on to younger talent and they find themselves finally gracefully exiting the stage without encountering resounding demands for an encore.
She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes and his words have started to sound as old as he feels. They look within and find they have nothing left to give, that they have given more than they intended to and the flames have frizzled to smoldering coals. Their days are filled with memories and their nights are empty of the constant attention they have grown accustomed to.
They are surprised to find they enjoy this phase of life. And not at all surprised to find themselves sharing their new found solitude and silences together.
When they get married a few months later, their wedding card just reads, Finally'.
Bollywood
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
