Heya peeps!! Thank you so much for the lovely comments. I am unable to individually reply. But each one of you makes a difference to me 😃
Me back with update and this time it's completely Maaneet and a very long one! 😳 Hope you like it.
Chapter 46: A Determined Plea
Daadima wiped Geet's tears before tenderly kissing her forehead. "Mujhe pata tha beta, ek na ek din tum zaroor wapas aaoge," she said cupping her cheeks. "Ab bas Maan ko jaldi se manao taaki main shanti se mar sakoon."
"Daadima!"
"Daadi!"
Arjun and Geet both screamed simultaneously alarmed at Savitri Devi's statement.
"Daadima aise mat boliye please," Geet addressed squeezing Savitri Devi's hand that cupped her cheek.
"Daadi aap kabhi sudrogi nahi na. Har waqt yahi dhamki," Arjun said shaking his head in annoyance.
"Teekhai, teekhai, I won't say that again. Ab chaliye jaldi se fresh hokar aayiye, main Maan ko phone lagati hoon," Daadima said getting up from the sofa.
"Par Daadima," Geet began wondering if it was a good idea to wake up the hungry lion yet.
"Arre don't worry, I won't let him know you are here. Main kuch aur bahaana bana lungi," Daadima laughed seeing Geet's pale face. "Mujhe bhi pata hai sote hue sher ko jaldi se nahi jagaana chahiye. Let me remind you darling hum bhi ek zamaane mein aise situations main the. Jaise aapke Daadaji the, hume toh roz use manani padti thi," Daadima winked before heading back to her room.
"Chaliye bhabhi main bhi chalta hoon. Mujhe Anu se milna hai warna aapko dekhegi toh tufaan kadi kar degi," he said picking up his phone and keys.
"Oh shoot!" Geet gasped in horror while slapping her forehead. How could she forget Anushka?! She had completely left her out of the loop. Knowing how protective she was of Maan, Geet was sure it would be really hard convincing her. "Mujhe usse bhi maafi maangni hogi," she said voicing her thoughts.
"Arre aap fiar mat keejiye bhabhi. Aap sirf Veerji ko kaise patana hai voh sochiye. Baaki sab is my responsibility," Arjun grinned putting his aviators on and walking out.
Geet sighed. Gathering her bag she decided to freshen up before confronting the lion, Maan himself. Walking into their room she looked around to find that things seemed to be untouched. It was as if she had walked away last night and returned back today. All her dresses, his things were exactly in the same place. It almost seemed like this room was untouched since the time she left. Could it be that? A flitting thought passed through her mind. NO! She gasped covering her mouth. Had Maan come to hate her so much that he couldn't spend a minute in this room? Her thoughts ran a mile a second while her eyes clouded with tears. She had indeed pushed him over the limit. Yet she hoped and prayed she hadn't pushed him to the point of no return. She cannot possibly survive without him. She will bear his wrath and his hatred but she will not walk away from him. NEVER.
Tying her hair into a messy bun, she got around cleaning the place. Walking to their closet, she ran her hands lovingly over his shirts. "Aap mujhe maaf karoge na Maan?" she whispered, her voice turning husky. "Aap nahi karoge toh main samajh sakti hoon magar door mat bhejiye." Sniffing back her tears, she pulled out a simple white anarkali bordered with gold colored lining. This was one of his favorites. He had never voiced it but the spark in his eyes whenever she wore this dress said it all. She knew it would be a long time before she can even expect anything from him but she had to start somewhere. She would shower him with so much love that he would be forced to come back to his old self. She had faith in her love, in their love.
***
Maan Singh Khurana hated it when his grandmother blackmailed him into doing things. And now she had blackmailed him into coming home earlier than usual. He was ordered to drop everything he was doing right now and get back home because his grandmother wanted halwa from Nizamuddin Dargah out of the blue. He had tried coaxing her that he would have someone get it for her but she was stubborn that he personally goes there to get it for her. He had even tried wiggling out of it by promising to go another time but she was stubborn. She was Savitri Khurana and stubborn was her middle name.
He was impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel waiting for the signal to turn green. He was sure something was up her sleeve. If he knew his Daadima well she was scheming something but he just couldn't point a figure at what. Her demand seemed unusual and the mischief in her voice was evident. He wondered what was she planning under his nose. And he would find out soon.
He zoomed through the city highway before reaching his destination, Nizamuddin Dargah. The place was crowded as usual while the speakers blared singing glory of Allah. The moment he stepped out of the car he felt something stir inside him and a sense of calmness settled over. He frowned at the sudden change of his emotions. Searing burn in his chest seemed to ease a little as he walked closer to the dargah. Dismissing it as a mere effect of this peaceful place, he tied his handkerchief on his head covering most of his head portion. He hurried up the steps and entered through the main entrance while dodging the crowd entering along with him.
***
She sat among few women with her dupatta covering her head. Leaning on the pillar for support, she sat with her eyes closed. As soon as she had come out of her room, Daadima had come to request her to come here to Nizamuddin Dargah. Daadima had convinced her that she needed to clear her mind and begin with the blessings from this dargah. Geet was reluctant to leave, as she wanted to be there when Maan came home but Daadima had assured that all her doubts and questions will be cleared once she visits the dargah and thus start anew once she was back home.
It had been more than fifteen minutes since she had come here and still she felt restless. A sense of agitation and fear still gripped her thinking about her confrontation with Maan would go about. Resting her head on the pillar, she took a deep breath as a lone tear slid down her eye.
Not wanting to attract unwanted attention, she decided to walk around to calm her restless mind. The sun had dyed everything gold and the clouds had partially disappeared, allowing some sunrays to reach the city. The polished marble walls of the dargah emanated with the golden rays of the sun. As she walked along the marbled floor the cool autumn breeze welcomed her like an old friend. Suddenly she felt much better. She could feel the breeze running through her veins, caressing her lungs and lay deep inside her heart, filling her with serene happiness that she had no memories of having felt before. Few strings of hair flew out of her neatly braided on to her face. She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear and kept walking.
She came to stand by a window with intricately designed latticework. She closed her eyes leaning on it only to feel something soft hit her face. And suddenly as if a magic spell was casted, her restlessness seemed to have disappeared. She opened her eyes to see a piece of thread half stuck on her cheek while the other half fluttered due to breeze. She slowly removed it from her face to realize it was one of those scared threads people tie to the walls or doors of the dargah praying for their wishes to be fulfilled. She wondered where it came from and looked around to see if someone came looking for it. But she saw that no one was around in the vicinity. Could this Babaji's answer for all her problems and fears? Before she could come to any conclusion she saw someone rush past her through the other side of the window. She drew a sharp breath as her heart instantly recognized him.
Was she dreaming? Could it be really him? What? How? When? Millions of questions swirled through her mind. She ran around the window and into the main hall trying to find him. But he seemed to have disappeared into thin air. As if on cue, there was a call for prayer from a nearby mosque asking for everyone to assemble. The crowd started dispersing. Few remained as she rushed past the almost empty corridor. It almost seemed like he was never there. Could he be a figment of her imagination? She came to stand by the door of another sacred tomb placed in the room where few people were praying kneeling on the floor. She strained her eyes to adjust to the dim lights in the room. Her eyes frantically roamed through the room to find the familiar face she was dying to see. And God seemed to have answered her prayers.
He sat among the few men hugging his knees close to his chest while his arm was secured around them. He sat right in front of this tomb with his eyes closed and his head slightly fallen back. It almost seemed like everything was normal. She saw him subtle mumble something under his breath. She longingly ran her fingers through the latticework window from where he sat.
"Maan," she whispered like a silent prayer with a fond smile adorning her lips. And in an instant she saw him turn towards her and look directly at her. His eyes bored into hers and time stilled. She gasped in shock as he looked directly at her as though he knew she was standing there all along. She removed her hand off the wall as though she was electrocuted. Sudden fear gripped her. She was about to turn away when she saw she had just imagined him seeing her.
Maan felt ineffable joy permeate throughout his body as he sat in front of the tomb. He had visited this place numerous times in the past yet nothing came close to the feeling of joy he felt right now. After a long time he felt happy and he didn't want to find the reason. Bowing down to the tomb once again, he got up and decided to go buy his Daadima's favorite halwa before he headed home. He saw an elderly man limping his way out of the door. He rushed to support and walk him out.
Geet matched his steps on the outside of the room. And suddenly he looked up to catch her staring. She wasn't sure she was ready to face him. What if she couldn't convice him to take her back? What if he hated her so much that the mere sight of her made him nauseous? Not wanting to be caught, she turned her attention towards the sacred threads tied on the wall and pretended to be busy tying them. He slowly approached her while her legs refused to move. She watched him help her tie the sacred thread as she fumbled with it. And before she knew it, he turned to face her and reached behind her head to pull her duppatta over, covering her head. The running and the wind had pushed it away and she had not realized that until he pulled it back. Her eyes and mouth were frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise. A shy smile played on her lips at the thought of his caring action. Involuntarily she clutched the duppatta and turned to look only to find him still there hugging the old man he had just helped. She gasped in shock. Did she imagine him a few minutes ago? Clutching her heart she tried to calm her racing heart. And before he got a whiff of her presence she ran from there to the other side of the dargah.
She could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. Myriad of emotions ran high through her body. Happiness, fear, excitement, relief all flooded through her body as she slowly slid down the wall before sitting down. She couldn't really understand what was going through her body as she felt him this close. There was fear of rejection yet the relief she felt watch him walk around the same dargah as she was gave her immense pleasure. She had finally let go of all the things that held her from loving him. And to have him this close to her with her feelings running high made her giddy with happiness. She wanted to run into his arms and never let go. Her thoughts raced with nearly forbidden desires. Shaking her head off those thoughts she slightly turned only to see him again. She chuckled. Her mind now was imagining him everywhere. She let her eyes feast on the image of him in front of her inspite of it being her imagination.
***
Maan walked around the dargah to the wall where people stood tying the sacred thread on the walls and pillars. He didn't know why but his legs had involuntarily brought him to this place. He had no intention of tying the thread. He had lost the need to ask favors from God long ago. He had come to realize happiness was never written on his fate. Not now, not ever. He decided to walk away from that place when he heard someone behind him call out to him.
Geet came to stand near the pillar to tie a sacred thread. A new hope bubbled inside her. She stood praying silently with her eyes closed when she felt something soft hit her. She opened her eyes to to see a piece of thread fall onto her palm. Wondering the wind must have brought it as someone else was trying to tie it, she turned to find the owner.
"Suniye, yeh shaayad," she began forwarding the thread only to gulp the rest of the words as he turned to face her. And there he stood, right in front of her. She tried to read his expression but he looked as calm as the sea.
Maan decided to leave the dargah when someone thrust a piece of sacred thread in his hands asking him to tie it and Allah would bring happiness into his life. He had never believed in these things but never condemned others from doing it. He didn't have a heart to deny the old man and decided to tie it praying for his family's happiness. He was about to tie it when a strong gust of wind blew causing the thread to slip away from his fingers and fly away. He turned to retrieve the thread when he saw a familiar figure approach him. And there she stood wearing his favorite anarkali suit with her duppatta covering her head just like in his dream every single night. He forgot to blink as she walked to stand close to him.
"Allah ho Akbar! Maula tum dono ka jodi banaye rakhe!" A passing fakir's voice brought them back to their senses. Maan's anger took the better off him.
"Baba, hum saath main nahi hai!" he replied curtly before looking away.
"Allah ke marzi se bandhe chalte hain, bandhe ke marzi pe Allah nahi!" the fakir shot back before walking away in a huff.
With that the fakir walked away leaving a broken Geet and angry Maan. She hurriedly wiped away a single tear that slid down her cheek.
"Tum, tum yahaan kya kar rahe ho," Maan questioned not looking into her eyes.
"Voh main," she tried to form the right words when he interrupted again.
"Please Geet save the drama, I don't have time to listen," he said showing his hand. He turned around swiftly and began to rush out of the dargah. He couldn't stand an extra minute next to her. He was scared his eyes would give him away. He didn't want her sympathy and would try his best to keep her away from him.
He had come to the dargah in hope of some peace of mind and instead he was leaving with agitation. Cursing his luck, he quickened his steps to reach his car and get out from here only to realize she had followed him out.
Suddenly a gush of wind brought thick layer of rain wetting everything around. People hurried to the nearest shelter but two people walked out like it never bothered them.
"Rukiye!" she called out to him trying her best to match his steps despite heavy pouring. She knew she had to fight a long battle before he could even bear her presence next to him. It hurt her to see his indifference towards her but she would bear all the humiliation and hurt. After all she was the reason he had turned this callous. Panting due to running, she came to a halt by his car. "Maan," she said trying to catch her breath.
"Mat bulao mujhe Maan voh haq kho chuki ho," he said sharply. Clouds thundered across the malevolent sky making her shudder. "It's Mr. Khurana for you. Mr. Khurana," he stressed his voice reaching a high octave as he spoke above the noise of the splattering rain. "Mr. Khurana." With that he got into his car and started to drive away from her.
Cold rain droplets washed over her face but she never bothered to wipe it away as she watched him zoom away. "Maan!" she screamed running behind the car. "Maan please meri baat suniye!"
Potholes all over the place brimmed with rain turning it icky and brown. The flash river ran down the street gushed over the tops of her shoes. Geet trampled through mud filled puddles causing dirt and mud to seep through stitches of her shoes. At the moment the only thing on her mind was to speak with Maan. The car seemed to pick up speed and the distance between her and the vehicle increased. All the running and crying took a toll on her. She clutched her forehead in pain while trying her best to stand up straight. But darkness seemed to overtake her. She staggered backward, her mind swirling, her beaths shallow until she fell in a heap to the floor. "Maan please rukiye," she whispered before darkness engulfed her. Edited by madhu.pmlist - 9 years ago
Shiv Shakti
Cricket
197