That was certain in Viren's mind after hearing the story of Vikram and Sri. And as much as he sympathized with their situation, he did not think Manvi's plan would work. Or perhaps he was being selfish...he wanted to spend time with his wife. It was their anniversary, after all, and he was determined to have some time alone with her.
They headed to their room after Swamini's outburst in the hall, Jeevika sighing, "I feel sorry for them, but really, there's nothing we can do. Swamini Bua is right."
"If we were in their places...what would we have done?" he asked her, closing the door behind her.
She thought for a moment and then gave him the answer that was already running through his own mind, "We would have found a way by ourselves...we wouldn't have relied on others' help and we wouldn't be deceiving others."
He smiled, "Exactly. If Vikram and Sri love each other as much we love each other, they can find a way to make it work."
Jeevika nodded in agreement, then moved to head to the washroom, but Viren caught her hand before she could take a step away, "Where are you going?"
"To change my clothes," she looked at him, confused, "We're going to sleep now, aren't we?"
He pulled her back towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Leken, you haven't given me my anniversary gift, Mrs. Vadhera..."
She blushed, looking downwards, fully aware of his intents, "Your anniversary gift?"
"Hmm..." he tugged her even closer, so her hips were flush against his, his eyes shifting from her eyes to her lips, which parted slightly, as she brought her gaze back up to meet his.
Her breaths brushed along his mouth as she murmured, "You want your anniversary gift?"
"Haan," his voice was barely above a whisper. No matter how long they had been married, she always managed to produce the same effects on him as she had the first time they met: a quickened pulse, unsteady breaths and the sensation that they were all alone, in their own little world.
"Theek hai!" she moved away with an impish grin, "It's in the drawer, let me get it for you."
Surprised by this response, he let go of her, then chuckled to himself; he'd get her later. She took a blue and silver wrapped present from the drawer and handed it to him, "Happy anniversary, Virenji."
He was happy she had taken the time to get him a gift and was even more happy when he discovered the contents of the box: it was a hardcover book, 2 States, by Chetan Bhagat. "It's a story of a couple's struggles to get married...the plot is more suited to Vikram and Sri then ours, but-"
"The love is the same," he finished for her.
"Yes," her cheeks flushed slightly, caught unaware by his intense gaze.
He placed the book on the dresser, "Thank you." He approached her again, slow, steady steps until he had backed her into the wall. Sweeping a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers trailed along her cheek and her eyes closed. He bent closely and whispered into her ear, "Do you want your anniversary gift?" He breath caught in her throat, words refused to be spoken.
Her eyes fluttered open in concession and he let his lips softly brush along her jawline as he pulled back, saying in a much louder, clearer voice, "Let me get it for you." He stepped back so he was no longer pressed against her and gauged her reaction. A heated blush had rose to her cheeks and she was self-consciously pushing her hair behind her ears, looking anywhere but at him, moving away from the confined space. He grinned and went to retrieve her gift. "Close your eyes," he ordered and she did so. He had bought her an expensive sapphire necklace, filigreed in white gold, but with all the confusion of the evening, had been unable to give it to her till now.
He swept her hair forward along one shoulder, leaving the back of her neck exposed and latched the necklace, his arms resting around her shoulders, his face bent over her neck. She felt his butterfly-light caresses around the chain at her bare skin, his mouth so close, almost brushing her neck, sending sparks of electricity through her entire body. "Open," he whispered.
She opened her eyes and beheld the stunning necklace; the sparkling blue pendant settled at the base of her collarbone. "Virenji," she exclaimed, "This is so beautiful! Thank you so much," she held it up, watching as it caught the lamp light and glinted brightly. She entwined her small arms around his waist and hugged him, resting her head against his chest. He breathed in her sweet fragrance and revelled in the feeling of her soft cheek at his chest, where the collar of his shirt was open.
"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Vadhera," he said quietly, lifting her face to his and running his other hand through her long hair in a way he only did when they were in their bedroom. A shy smile curved her lips and she moved away, out of his grip.
She had taken only a few steps forward when she felt her dupatta slip slowly over her shoulder; her hand held it to her neck by reflex and she felt herself being pulled back until her back was pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. He tugged the dupatta again until it glided down her back to the floor. Her eyes closed as she felt his lips press at her back and graze a heated trail along the column of her neck, the sharp, sudden catch of his teeth at her ear, then his wavering breaths at her temple...in a swift, fluid motion he had lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed, setting her down with careful gentility. His lean body hovered over hers and her hands shifted from his neck to the collar of his shirt, along the line of buttons. She kissed his cheek sweetly as he bent closer and he responded by shifting his mouth closer to hers, fingers toying with tendrils of her hair. No words were necessary...not when the language of love was conveyed so eloquently; through soft kisses, gentle caresses, the shared warmth of two bodies pressed so close together, the lovely entanglement of fingers and limbs...
An abrupt knock interrupted them, the loud sound almost sacrilegious in the intimate silence of before. Jeevika's eyes shot wide open and Viren touched his forehead to hers for a moment, trying to recover his breath, before heading to open the door.
Their household servant was at the door; the poor man did not know quite where to look. Manvi had sent him to retrieve her sister and brother-in-law and unsuspectingly he had gone, completely forgetting it was Viren and Jeevika's anniversary. No, he did not know where to look; at Viren, whose open collar and rumpled hair would be enough to frighten him without the irritated look in his eyes of someone who had been unpleasantly disturbed; or at Jeevika who was hurriedly pulling her dupatta back over her shoulders, her kajol smudged darkly around her eyes. He relayed his message as quickly as he could, with many stutters and clearings of his throat before he escaped down the hall.
Viren groaned as he leaned his head against the door, "Your sister has perfect timing as always."
Jeevika laughed, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly, "Come, we should change our clothes before we go."
"Do you need any help with that?" he asked hopefully.
She shook her head at him, still giggling as she went to the bathroom. His eyes settled on the book she had given him. The struggles of an Indian couple. If the struggles he went through to get his wife alone with him were anything to go by, the story might be more akin to him and Jeevika than they had thought. No matter the culture or race of any couple...the language of love remained the same.
After the hectic rush of attempting to assume the guise of a South Indian family, Viren was quite happy to have his wife alone with him in their room. "Naan unnai kadhalikiren," she told him, smilingly.
He paused for a moment, trying to repeat her words, then decided, "Me, too." After all, he conceded, touching his forehead to hers and wrapping his arms around her waist, love in any language was the same.
Anupamaa
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