His Scar || #KriYam

Premise: Confusion... or Denial?

He didn't know, and neither did she. It was clear they both felt something for each other. This... they could no longer deny. For sure. It was obvious. They knew. Everyone around them knew. But what exactly is this feeling... how strong of an emotion is this... and, why does it even exist... why and how is this happening... they all seemed like impossible questions to answer. Whenever they caught themselves alone... they'd stop. Pause. And just think. They'd talk to themselves... talk to walls... trying to figure out the answers. And every time, they'd find themselves even more confused.

And yet, they could do nothing to stop the feeling. They were in too deep.

Scene:

He had just made himself some chamomile tea. He put his mug down on the bedside table, and sat himself down on the bed... resting his back on the headboard and spreading out his legs. As he heaved a heavy sigh, he tilted his head back... preparing himself for what he knew would inevitably be happening next.

And sure enough, he closed his eyes... and he saw her.

Just then, she hustles into the room calling his name. He jolts up, hiding the smile that was just about to creep up onto his face... and he sits up onto the side of the bed and reaches for his mug. She sits down next to him... at a slight distance, and looks annoyingly at him as he takes a sip of his tea. "Tumhe sharam nahi aati, akele akele chai pee rahe ho". He gives her a sly side-glance, and smirks. "Mujhe aadat hai. Akele sab kuch karne ki."

Suddenly, her eyes look downcast, and she tilts her head... trying to get a closer look at his face. "Kuch huaa hai kya, Saiyyam?", she asks softly. He looks down at the mug in his hands, not daring to look up into her eyes.

They've come so far in their relationship. They're at this point now where, whatever this unspoken feeling is between them, it's given them an outlet to let out what they've held caged in their hearts for all these years. She talks to him when she needs to, and he talks to her. And they listen to each other. Absolutely nothing could come of the conversation... but their voices will have been heard.

And so, like always... he let it all out. He told her he was starting to feel accepted in the Birla house, and he was scared. He was scared that he was feeling like he had found a home. He had never had one of those. At first, he thought it was because he was deprived of one. But then he eventually learnt that it was actually because... he never deserved one.

What if he got used to this? What if he got attached? This isn't meant for him. He's not meant to be loved. He never was meant to be loved.

He looked up at her now, his eyes glistening with the slightest hint of tears - tears that he refused to ever allow an escape.

His voice cracked. "I'm cursed, Krishna. Main voh hoon jo log apnaane ki nahi,.. mitaane ki koshish karte hain. Daag hoon main."

She held his pain stricken stare for a moment... holding onto the eye lock as if it was the last time she'd ever allow him to hurt himself like that. A few seconds passed, and suddenly... her lips curved into the slightest, softest smirk.

And then... she moved closer. She diminished the distance until she was just inches away from sitting on his lap. Neither of them ever letting go of the stare, she came closer. Dangerously close. And then... she lifted her hand ever so slowly... and did something no one had ever done to him in his whole entire life.

She touched his scar.

The softest, slightest... most endearing touch... allowing her fingers to linger and brush against it.

She looked deeper into his eyes, if that was even possible. As if she was staring into his soul. And said, almost at a whisper: "Daag koi shraap nahi... taqaat ki nishaani hoti hai, Saiyyam. Jo burai ko haraake... upar uth tha hai... uski nishaani ho tum. Tum nahi... yeh daag tumse hai.

Her eyes moved to look down at his scar where her fingers had been lingering. She slid her hand down, brushing onto his cheek, as she rested her palm on that side of his face. She allowed her fingers to graze his cheekbone... and then looked up into his eyes yet again, and said:

"Isse apnaate nahi... tarashte hain."

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And in that moment somewhere, that unknown feeling between them... had found a name.