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Chapter 16
As Rudra and Paro entered the party hall, the general took to the stage. "Thank you for coming. After some years there are few things that can surprise you. But some people always manage to make your heart sing. Geethanjali of all the blessings I have ever received you are my favorite. You have stood by me through every challenge and supported every battle. I want to thank you for making every day of my life special, Geethanjali. This song is for you." He started to sing a Kishore kumar number, Pal, pal, dil ke pas.
Geethanjali smiled as her husband sang her favorite song, one that he used to sing to her whenever his BSD commitments took him away. She saw Rudra walk in with Paro and asked them to join the other couples on the dance floor. Paro was a little hestitant but Rudra slowly took both her arms and placed them on his shoulder. He held her gently as they swayed to the music.
It wasn't a new experience for her to be in his arms, but something was different this time. Was it the way he held her so gently or was it the strange sparkle on his eyes as he looked at her. She felt like at that moment there was nowhere else he would rather be, no one else he would rather dance with. He was doing exactly what is heart wanted and the woman in her slowly became aware of his desire for her. Her heart beat quickened and blood rushed to her cheeks as the look in his eyes confirmed her thoughts.
The first time he heard this song was on a mission when he overheard the general sing it to his wife over the phone. He thought him an old fool in love. But now hearing him sing it again to the same woman who stood by him all these years made him wonder if it was just Ranavats who was cursed with the wrong kind of woman. Maybe the rest of them aren't so bad. He desperately hoped the one he held in his arms was not like his mother. He wanted to believe so much that they both could have what the general and his wife had. He felt like the song was made for him.
har raat yaadon kee, baaraat le aaye
He is always flooded of memories of her, in his arms as he carried her across the threshold, by his side as he had his meals, in his room waiting for him to return at nightfall.
mai saans letaa hoo, teree khushboo aatee hai
He still hadn't washed the kurta she wore once, wanting to preserve her scent. Was it because she wore it the first night she spent in his home or was it a momento of the day his father told the family that she was his future wife. He looked down at her again in blue and smiled remembering what his kakisa had said before she certainly didn't look like a gurgling glass of water now. She looked like an expensive work of art with fine lines and soft curves which he longed to explore.
His faint smile made her curious. She arched an eyebrow at him but he just shook his head and held her closer. She listened closely to the song.
ye kaisaa rishtaa hai, ye kaise sapane hai
She saw him a few nights back when he came to her after his mission. He looked tired and lost. It pained her to see him broken, her Rudra, her rakshak. What kind of a relationship did they share? Why did the sadness in his eyes always pierce her Soul. He had cut on his forehead which she cleaned up and put a band aid on. He had cupped her face and kissed away her tears. That recurring dream always made her heart beat erratically.
jalane mein kyaa majaa hai, parawaane jaanate hai
She was always scared of fire, it reminded her of her parents funeral. But now she always associated it with him, her Rudra in all his blazing glory. She waited for him to engulf her in his fiery embrace, to keep her safe and warm. A feeling she had only when he was around.
He knew she was just as lost in the song as he was. And for a few moments he wanted to be just a man who was dancing with the woman he was attracted. He would be ok if she walked away after this. But right now he wanted to look into her eyes, breathe in her scent, touch her silken skin and simply surrender to her and to the fate that brought them together again. He wanted to kiss soft lips and taste her. He imagined she would taste like honey, rich and sweet. He knew his proximity affected her from her speeding heart. He wondered what would happen if he leaned in a nipped her slender, swanlike neck. He wanted to feel her soft, suple form against him. He looked down at her virginal face and asked himself, if she would let him touch her the way could have if they had gone through their wedding. Would he spending the entire night making love to her. Would she wake up in his arms, to him whispering sweet nothings at daybreak. She was the first woman he had been curious about. He knew Laila intimately for years but she was never more than a drug which he needed to kill the silence of his Soul. Nothing more than that. But with Paro something in him changed. She managed to trickle down like water through his stony heart and build a tempest of emotions in his Soul. He wanted to listen to the voice in her heart. Did it call out to him? Did she feel that they shared something precious, something he didn't dare name. Does she remember that they almost got married awhile back? All the rituals that took place, did it mean anything to her? Did she consider herself as his bride the way he sometimes thought?
"Sorry ma'am, it was an accident", a voice interupted as a waiter had crashed into Paro. She didn't know how fast he moved. But the next thing she realised was that Rudra had the man pined to the floor in a murderous rage. "Have you gone blind, can't you see where you're going," he yelled at the poor man. "No... Sir..." came the stutering reply. The glasses he was carrying lay shattered on the floor. "What? you saw her and decided to bang into her. Why are you incapable of not walking away from a pretty face? You wanted to get a better look. What did you think would happen? That she will be attracted to you and pay attention to you? That she will leave the man she is with and come with you, clumsy fool!" he blasted the man. "Rudra, its ok nothing happened", she said as she placed her delicate hand on his shoulder. He calmed down a little and she noticed the crowd gathered around. He cupped her face and asked, "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?". She said no but he knew she was still in shock. "I'm sure he didn't mean to bump into us" she said and asked him to let the man go. He complied and helped clear the mess absently wondering why Paro was defending the waiter.
"Rudra, your hand, its bleeding", Paro gasped she noticed a glass piece cutting into his palm. He was completely focused on her expressions that he didn't pay attention to what he was doing. She pulled him up and asked him to come with her so that she can clean up the wound. "Its just a small cut, nothing to cry about", he said as he noticed tears welling up in her eyes. She wasn't ready to listen, she looked at him pleadingly. And for the first time since they met, he allowed her to drag him away by the wrist.
As Rudra and Paro entered the party hall, the general took to the stage. "Thank you for coming. After some years there are few things that can surprise you. But some people always manage to make your heart sing. Geethanjali of all the blessings I have ever received you are my favorite. You have stood by me through every challenge and supported every battle. I want to thank you for making every day of my life special, Geethanjali. This song is for you." He started to sing a Kishore kumar number, Pal, pal, dil ke pas.
Geethanjali smiled as her husband sang her favorite song, one that he used to sing to her whenever his BSD commitments took him away. She saw Rudra walk in with Paro and asked them to join the other couples on the dance floor. Paro was a little hestitant but Rudra slowly took both her arms and placed them on his shoulder. He held her gently as they swayed to the music.
It wasn't a new experience for her to be in his arms, but something was different this time. Was it the way he held her so gently or was it the strange sparkle on his eyes as he looked at her. She felt like at that moment there was nowhere else he would rather be, no one else he would rather dance with. He was doing exactly what is heart wanted and the woman in her slowly became aware of his desire for her. Her heart beat quickened and blood rushed to her cheeks as the look in his eyes confirmed her thoughts.
The first time he heard this song was on a mission when he overheard the general sing it to his wife over the phone. He thought him an old fool in love. But now hearing him sing it again to the same woman who stood by him all these years made him wonder if it was just Ranavats who was cursed with the wrong kind of woman. Maybe the rest of them aren't so bad. He desperately hoped the one he held in his arms was not like his mother. He wanted to believe so much that they both could have what the general and his wife had. He felt like the song was made for him.
har raat yaadon kee, baaraat le aaye
He is always flooded of memories of her, in his arms as he carried her across the threshold, by his side as he had his meals, in his room waiting for him to return at nightfall.
mai saans letaa hoo, teree khushboo aatee hai
He still hadn't washed the kurta she wore once, wanting to preserve her scent. Was it because she wore it the first night she spent in his home or was it a momento of the day his father told the family that she was his future wife. He looked down at her again in blue and smiled remembering what his kakisa had said before she certainly didn't look like a gurgling glass of water now. She looked like an expensive work of art with fine lines and soft curves which he longed to explore.
His faint smile made her curious. She arched an eyebrow at him but he just shook his head and held her closer. She listened closely to the song.
ye kaisaa rishtaa hai, ye kaise sapane hai
She saw him a few nights back when he came to her after his mission. He looked tired and lost. It pained her to see him broken, her Rudra, her rakshak. What kind of a relationship did they share? Why did the sadness in his eyes always pierce her Soul. He had cut on his forehead which she cleaned up and put a band aid on. He had cupped her face and kissed away her tears. That recurring dream always made her heart beat erratically.
jalane mein kyaa majaa hai, parawaane jaanate hai
She was always scared of fire, it reminded her of her parents funeral. But now she always associated it with him, her Rudra in all his blazing glory. She waited for him to engulf her in his fiery embrace, to keep her safe and warm. A feeling she had only when he was around.
He knew she was just as lost in the song as he was. And for a few moments he wanted to be just a man who was dancing with the woman he was attracted. He would be ok if she walked away after this. But right now he wanted to look into her eyes, breathe in her scent, touch her silken skin and simply surrender to her and to the fate that brought them together again. He wanted to kiss soft lips and taste her. He imagined she would taste like honey, rich and sweet. He knew his proximity affected her from her speeding heart. He wondered what would happen if he leaned in a nipped her slender, swanlike neck. He wanted to feel her soft, suple form against him. He looked down at her virginal face and asked himself, if she would let him touch her the way could have if they had gone through their wedding. Would he spending the entire night making love to her. Would she wake up in his arms, to him whispering sweet nothings at daybreak. She was the first woman he had been curious about. He knew Laila intimately for years but she was never more than a drug which he needed to kill the silence of his Soul. Nothing more than that. But with Paro something in him changed. She managed to trickle down like water through his stony heart and build a tempest of emotions in his Soul. He wanted to listen to the voice in her heart. Did it call out to him? Did she feel that they shared something precious, something he didn't dare name. Does she remember that they almost got married awhile back? All the rituals that took place, did it mean anything to her? Did she consider herself as his bride the way he sometimes thought?
"Sorry ma'am, it was an accident", a voice interupted as a waiter had crashed into Paro. She didn't know how fast he moved. But the next thing she realised was that Rudra had the man pined to the floor in a murderous rage. "Have you gone blind, can't you see where you're going," he yelled at the poor man. "No... Sir..." came the stutering reply. The glasses he was carrying lay shattered on the floor. "What? you saw her and decided to bang into her. Why are you incapable of not walking away from a pretty face? You wanted to get a better look. What did you think would happen? That she will be attracted to you and pay attention to you? That she will leave the man she is with and come with you, clumsy fool!" he blasted the man. "Rudra, its ok nothing happened", she said as she placed her delicate hand on his shoulder. He calmed down a little and she noticed the crowd gathered around. He cupped her face and asked, "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?". She said no but he knew she was still in shock. "I'm sure he didn't mean to bump into us" she said and asked him to let the man go. He complied and helped clear the mess absently wondering why Paro was defending the waiter.
"Rudra, your hand, its bleeding", Paro gasped she noticed a glass piece cutting into his palm. He was completely focused on her expressions that he didn't pay attention to what he was doing. She pulled him up and asked him to come with her so that she can clean up the wound. "Its just a small cut, nothing to cry about", he said as he noticed tears welling up in her eyes. She wasn't ready to listen, she looked at him pleadingly. And for the first time since they met, he allowed her to drag him away by the wrist.
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