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"I hate you...like I love you". His heart continues to sing those lines on repetitive loops as he scans, and scrolls and fiddles with his phone. Why? Where? Now??? How? Oh god...his patience is nearing its end. But then he thinks...whatever. I'll have her around me sooner or later. She'll be in front of me tab if not ab. And then we'll play this act of stubbornness fair and square. š
And then they inform him. Uh oh. "Baba...nandini madam ka call aaya tha" Did someone hear that snapping noise? Yerrrpp...that was his patience there and then. Who cares if they're fighting? Who cares if he doesn't want to talk to her? Who cares if she's climbing up his nerves. He wants to hear her. Now! He wants to see her. Now! He wants to be able to inhale her caring scent, breathe her aura's divine freshness, drink the love he sees in her eyes for him.. Pampered much? You bet he is! š But khichdi? Like really? She called up just to remind them to heat khichdi up for me? He even confirms whether she spoke any other words apart from the bland, boring ones cloning the taste of her khichdi. But *sighh* that's all for now. And so he puts on some rebellious boots on and stomps his way into chucking the tantrum of a mama's boy. š If she's adamant. He's persistent too. He'll eat...but not without her. He'll talk...but once he hears her speak. He'll calm down...but once she makes her presence.
"Ouch!!" The voice echoes, rebounding of all corners of his heart and leaving the chord of his love strummed. She's here...finally! It's a reflex reaction for his head to just pop up and absorb her sight. But they're on a call here...to keep reminding themselves that they're "fighting" š And so he shoves away that gleam of relief and goes back to rolling his eyes. 'Because he totally hasn't been waiting for her all day' š
And so the bickering starts. Again. "Great. So tum yahan par isle aayi ho...to prove me wrong haina?" But who's right here and who's wrong...kuch khabar nahi. It hardly matter though. What's right is they are both in love and fighting for their togetherness. What's right is she's arguing for the sake of her battle of his well-being and he's disputing so she doesn't have to fight alone. What's right is they want to put aside every time-wasting argument and just embrace each other. What's right is even amidst their attempts to listen to the mind, the heart always sweeps off the victory points. It's only really a matter of her dropping the hints so he can join the dots. It's only needed from her to whisper a few words such as "Aryaman" "Soha" "Siblings" "Revenge" and he'll fill in all the rest of the blanks. Because when their eyes meet...he needs no ears to listen to words. He can read her like an open book...they story of her heart's fear, her soul's uneasiness, her inner-consciousness's doubts. But he will wait. Like he promises to every time. He'll wait for her to speak. He'll wait for her to express. He'll wait for her to accept his hand and walk this hurdled path together. Till then, he'll continue to love her even more with every whisper of bickering. Till then, she'll continue to drown in his love even after she genuinely lies to herself that Manik is "very bad" š Till then, they'll continue to come closer and nurture their love's growth so when the time comes, their togetherness will shield them from every opposing power.
But for now though...some other critical matters need to be handled. Out of one which is Rishabh and Chachi being mistaken for sales people. š¤£ He literally leaps out the door and comes to their rescue. The boy is just
He's needed for introductions here. Not for the sake of his own-self, not for the sake of Nyonika...but the sake of his Nandini. The sake of her family. He tries. He tries his level best to cut off Nyonika's needless comments, to ensure nothing is said which can cause a rift between the two families. These are exactly the times he belittles himself for his Nandini. The dark truth which is an inseparable and unavoidable part of his life that Nyonika Malhotra is his "Maa". He promises to protect his love from all complexities of life, yet the guilt in his eyes is so evident as he reflects upon how this chapter of his life is the rather majorly cursing complexity in itself. His pain, his agony, his broken state...it's needless to say that his forced smile, plastered enthusiasm and slurred words hardly can do the job of hiding it. She crushes his happiness, sense of peace and bandaged wounds every time she makes her presence in front of him. It's inevitable to say he's a Mama's boy. She reflects in the name of pain on his face! Absolutely wounded, scarred and internally shattered because of the curse he's been blessed with in the name of a mother. Her failure as a mother, the way she's daggered the pure relationship of a mother and a son...it all reflects as he speaks of her with such a strong sense of revolt. He gulps a throatful just before uttering the word "mom" every time as if it's the most bitter spoon of truth he's realising of for the first time himself. To say she fuels his dislike of her with her own words is an understatement. "Aapne Manik ke liye itni takleef uthai hai...I'm sure, iske badle mein aap kuch na kuch toh zaroor chahti hogi" Disgust. Appalled. Disbelief. Screaming from his face. She just proved it again. She's unworthy of being called a mother! There is this boy who has never really been exposed to the affection of a mother, to the strength her care, her blessings and her prayers can possess. Yet, he stands today...defending her for all the times she's faltered. Because whilst his mother's negligence could bury his goodness, it could never destroy it. And when his Nandini stepped into his life with her rays of hope, positivity, love and tenderness...his goodness broke through all layers of hurt, harshness, darkness and bloomed for the whole world to see. But to her it will never matter for who was meant to voice blessings and who was supposed to speak prayers. She only understands the language of give and take.
Has he stopped hurting though? Have his wounds stop weeping? *sighhh* some answers are best if they are not spoken. Because the depth of his pain can only be imagined...never mapped. However...it doesn't hurt so much anymore. The dark chambers of his life which he was almost too fearful of opening to himself even...they're slowly being lit by his Nandini's love. The corner of his heart which was left to desert from the lack of motherly affection and tender caresses as a little child...is being showered by the blessings, prayers and unconditional endearment from the new family he's welcomed in his life in the name of Chachi, Rishabh and Chacha. There's hope. That he will heal completely soon. There's hope. That his thirst and longing of a complete family will be fulfilled one day. There's hope. That every aspect of his life will be glowing because of his Nandini's love.
He is loved. But what matters more is he will continue to be loved. Her family...her brother...but above all...she. She will love him like he's never been loved. Like no one can ever be loved. In this act of tugging and squabbling and pulling and pushing...she will heal what's still bleeding and treat what's still aching. She will re-weave his future to be one which makes up for everything he's missed during his childhood. And no longer will then he be looked upon as a Mama's boy No longer will the scars and wounds of his mother be what dresses him. Her love, her care, her devotion, her concern, her compassion is what will adorn him.
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