She sat by the open window, watching the light drizzle. Where was he now? How would he be now...He would tower over her, she thought with a fond little smile. Just like old days. Bossy, arrogant know-it-all, but always, always there for her. Her best friend. Her soul mate. She placed the glossy smooth memento on the table carefully and picked up the framed photograph.
The rain beat down the window pane steadily just like the memories that came down on her. What would he look like now...she traced a finger down the image of that smiling boy. Oh the sweetness of what they had...The strength he promised he would lend her whenever she needed him. Dev...she whispered as the tears welled up. Kaha ho tum...She closed her eyes tight and they rolled down silently.
She was to become someone else's soon. He would never come back for her now. She would never hear his beloved voice scolding her when she did something stupid, or hurt herself. Never see him smile at her, that endearing mix of exasperation and affection, and possessiveness. Me hamesha se tumhari hi rahi hu Dev...she told the memory. Then she opened her eyes and looked out...It was still raining. Light, harmless rain. From within the house there were no other sounds, but she knew she wasn't alone...Even in the midst of all these souls she was alone, and yet she wasn't. She couldn't be alone with her memories. Aching for all that she hadn't, for all that she was, she got up and walked towards the balcony. The rain...
He liked darkness. Darkness and the night...He wasn't sure if he owned the night or the night owned him. A dark, moonless night which wasn't even graced by the light of twinkling stars that was his life. He sat alone in the darkened room, brooding. The only light was that from the corridor which fell across the floor obliquely. The whole house was asleep...but the lights were on in the halls and corridors. Of course they would be. It was her wedding. Little do they know, he thought to himself as he reached for the laptop. He wondered what she was doing. How could she not know it was him...Did she even remember him? Or was she lying about that too, lying to herself? Did she ache for those memories, like he did...Did she wish for those precious moments to come back, like he did? Did she hold on to them like he did? But sand slipped through your fingers the tighter you grasped it...He slammed the lid back down, having forgotten what he wanted with the laptop in the first place. He pushed it away and turned to stare out into the corridor again.
A shadow crossed the shaft of light just as he turned to the door. What...who was that? Who would be up at this ungodly hour...But of course he knew. He got up and followed the shadow that was always just disappearing around the corner of the next corridor. The shadow, and those muted footsteps that were leading him towards the terrace.
She stepped out onto the open terrace slowly. This light drizzle was comforting...Like Dev. It didn't smother her or terrify her...It was like him. She held out her palms, and the fat droplets of water fell on them. What had he said once...Oos ki boondein...She smiled at the memory. Dew drops from the morning mist that had settled on the leaves in the garden, and he had given one to her... A tender memory. But they spilled out of her hands now. Just like the tears which came back again. She had lost him. He was gone. Wishing for what would never be, she hugged herself.
He stopped under the eaves. Chandni? Of course it was her! What was the foolish girl doing? Getting drenched in the middle of the night? Did she want to catch a cold? Did she have a death wish? Why did she go looking for trouble? Fully intending to yank her back in he strode out.
"Chandni!"
Shocked, she turned to meet the owner of that unmistakable voice. Advay. Angry, authoritative, strides and ownership reverberating in that one word. What was he doing here? Vaguely she wondered why did he seem so familiar. Whom did he remind her of...
"Kya kar rahi ho yaha barish me? "he demanded.
"Pose kar rahi hu," she would have stuck her tongue out, but she simply wasn't feeling up to a fight just now. She wished he would just go away and leave her alone with her wishes and memories.
"Bimar padne ka koi shauk hai tumhe?"
"Aap ko kya farak padta hai." She tossed back quietly. What did he care...
Yes, why would he care. And was that bitterness in her voice? "Andar chalo tum."
She shook her head and moved away, not wanting him to see her when all her defenses were down. "Aap jaaiye. Mujhe akele rehne dijiye."
Did her voice break? Unknowingly he reached out to her, then withdrew. Why did he care. He should not be softening towards the enemy, he told himself. He was not supposed to find her antics cute. Or adorable when she muttered to herself just like she did all those years ago. And she was feisty. Just like his Chandni. But she was not that little girl was she... She wasn't. What she was, was a beautiful lie.
His hands clenched into fists by his side. And he should not be looking at her this way. He had to have the upper hand. The game was his to play. She should not be having any effect on him. Worse that she didn't even have to try. He should not be noticing what she wore, or how when the water sluiced down her slender frame the material clung to her like a second skin. He so should not be remembering her touch, inadvertent though it was. He should not be attracted to her. Period.
Furious at himself, he turned to go.
Lightning flashed across the sky brilliantly, thunder rolled. It scared her a little now. It felt like Dev was no longer with her...Wishing for him, wishing he was there with her, she hugged herself again and rocked, praying for strength to fight her demons. "Dev..." she whispered, closing her eyes against the harsh white light that flashed again.
He froze midway. He still had his back to her. Was his mind playing tricks now? Did she call out to him? Impossible...She didn't know it was him. How would she involuntarily he turned to look at her. And it felt like lightning had struck him. She stood there all by herself in the rain, rocking herself for comfort... white against the darkness of the night, drenched to the bone and so... lonely. Suddenly she looked so young and nave and vulnerable and he couldn't connect this water sprite to the beautiful lie he had worshipped at the altar of hatred for 16 years. She was simply Chandni, the one he lost so long ago, and she needed him. Water, he remembered. She'd said it scared her.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. The touch was gentle, but it gave her a jolt nonetheless.
"Chandni," he called her, softly.
"Aap gaye nai ab tak. "She wouldn't meet his eyes when he turned her to face him.
"Tumne kaha tha paani se dar lagta hai tumhe." He examined her face again. Resigned... she was resigned to everything. Her life, the world and all its cruelties. Without his permission, his heart ached for her. Rogue.
"Haan lagta hai, par dar ke sahare nahi jee sakti," she tried not to look at him. Why was he being kind to her now? Somehow she knew kindness would be her undoing, more than harsh words or defeat at some underhanded trick.
She wouldn't meet his gaze. He lifted her chin with one finger so he could see her eyes clearly, then dropped the hand like the touch had scalded him. She had been crying. And crying, had called out to him. He found no joy in the fact that she did remember him, and what did that say about them both?
She looked up at him with those eyes now, a challenge in them. Wanted to see my pain didn't you, and you couldn't handle it.
Oh, I can, he answered her silently. It's me that I'm not so sure I can handle.
She gave him a little half smile, an imitation of the one he gave her every time he won. "Jaane dijiye mujhe." She turned to go; he caught hold of her hand and tugged.
"Stop."
She turned, wondering what now.
"Jaane dijiye aap," she repeated firmly, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand against hers.
"Kyu. Darti ho mujse?"
That annoying smirk. Sometimes she wanted to throttle the man. "Nahi. Kyu daru?" she asked defiantly, trying to retrieve her hand - he wouldn't let go. His hold was gentle yet firm.
"Nahi darti ho tho prove it," he replied playfully, tugging her one step closer.
"Dekhiye, "she started pointing a finger at him with her free hand, then thought the better of it. "Mujhe aapko kuch prove karne ki zarurat nahi hai samjhe aap."
That got her another smile and a shrug. "I can see that,' he said smugly.
She looked pointedly at his hand holding hers. He released her hand, but his eyes wouldn't.
She couldn't understand what it was that he wanted from her. She found it hard to keep up with the quicksilver flashes of overbearing, charming, judgemental and kind. "Kya chahiye aapko?"
"Tum batao yaha kya kar rahi thi."
"Pose kar rahi thi," she repeated, chin jutting out a little in defiance. He had to smile. Girl had spunk, even when she was cornered and confused.
"Wo bhi sikhaoge?" she faked bravado while she hoped he wouldn't take that bait.
"Baarish me kaun pose karta hai?" he queried, enjoying this. He had known she wouldn't be able to resist a challenge.
"Tho kya karte hai?" she asked sullenly. This was going nowhere. If he would just let her go...
He leaned in a little. "Dance," he whispered seductively. Her eyes widened a little, though not in fear. She was surprised. And she had forgotten about the little fear of hers for the moment. This much he could give his childhood friend. One little distraction as a gift.
"Dance," she mocked him, and though the attempt was weak and half-hearted it made him smile again. "Aap kya jaante ho barish me dance karne ke bare mein. Khadoos Singh Raizada," she muttered.
He tugged her closer; she threw up one hand as a deterrent and it met his chest. "How can you know," he teased, "me kya janta hu," he slipped an arm about her waist bringing her closer still when she tried to lean away, "and kya nahi."
Slowly he raised their joint hands a little higher, assuming the posture for a waltz. "Baarish me dance," he swayed her gently, turning a half circle where they stood, "aise karte hai."
It cost him, being this close to her. Blurred the boundaries of hate a little. But he thought he could handle it. He could handle anything, he told himself resolutely.
"Kya?" This confused her. She could feel the rain, and the chill night breeze that threatened to turn the rain to sleet, cold against her skin. She could also feel the warmth of his palm against hers, and his arm about her waist. And pressed close to him this way...She was caught between ice and fire. It was an odd thing; she had never been this close to a man before, never like this. She didn't feel threatened though. Confused, but not smothered. What was he doing..?
"Tumne pehle kabhi kisi ke sath dance nahi kiya?" he mused, turning another half circle. She fit well in his arms, though he told himself not to dwell on it. Or the feel of her bare skin against his where he had his arm about her.
"Tyohar hai roz jo me nachti rahu," she retorted, wishing he would release her. Not because it hurt her in any way, simply because she didn't know what to feel. She was acutely aware of his gaze, and somewhere in the last half minute it had changed again from playfulness to something else...
"Tyohar me koi aise dance karta hai," throwing caution to the winds he dipped her with dramatic flourish, the movement so sudden and unexpected that she had to grab his shoulder with her free hand. The one that was resting lightly on his chest before he pulled this stunt. It cost him a little more. Especially when she looked up at him with those eyes, that curious mix of woman and child. Was she really that innocent...
She closed her eyes when his hand slid up her back, just a little to hold her in place.
Just as suddenly, he lifted her back up. His heart was beating just a little faster, and somehow he knew it was not just exertion. Just as he could feel hers thundering against its little bird cage. He spun her out, keeping one hand securely in his.
What was it with her? No other woman had this effect on him. Outwardly he had the upper hand. She was no match for his worldliness. He enjoyed rattling her, that was an honest truth. But she managed to slip past his guard once in a while, and that was disturbing. Not so sure of his own intentions now, he brought her back in so she was pressed up against him once more, this time both her hands on his shoulder. It was instinctive, he couldn't fault her; he spun her out again.
Her breath sped as he took her through the paces of this strange dance, swaying and dipping and turning to the music of the rain and the wind. Her pulse jumped where his hand held hers every time he spun her in and out of his embrace, her heart racing to follow his lead. Every time he touched her... light and quick sometimes and slow. Little shocks ran through her system each time. And his eyes... she could not look away, even when they were boring into hers...She was reminded of that day when he had caught her snooping, and foolishly she had tried to weasel out only to be caught and reeled back into his trap. It was hypnotic, the effect he had on her. He had held her then, too, just like this with her back against him, his hands at her waist just so, and she hadn't even protested. What was it with this man...What was this odd feeling called...
He turned her to face him again. "You're blushing," he said softly, amused. He could still get out of this unscathed if he could distract her a while longer, then let her go. But why couldn't she have worn something else? What she wore appealed to a part of his mind that he knew shouldn't. He drew her in gently so she was nestled against him once more, wondering how it was that the rain just made it worse for him. It made her look like a sea nymph, a temptress whose siren call was her strange and curious innocence. Her damp hair ran wild down her neck and shoulders, dark silken ropes that invited him to touch. Slowly he did, brushing the strands away from her face, tracing them down to hold a lock of her hair in his hand. Her lashes lowered at his touch again, and he could count every shallow breath that escaped her lips. Little miss touch-me-not, he thought to himself with a smile. Oh, she was innocent. Innocent of the ways of men. That much he was sure of. Paying no heed to the words of caution his mind shouted at him, he let his fingers inch back up to cup her face in his palm. Blood rushed up to her cheeks and he could almost feel the warmth seeping into him. Giving in to wanton need he brushed his thumb over her soft lower lip, to which the droplets of the rain had lent an endearing sheen. Siren, he told himself. But when she opened her eyes again and looked up at him...he lost his train of thought for a moment. Which one was she? The innocent temptress or the beautiful lie? Who was he kidding when he was telling himself he would get out of this unscathed...
He held her there for one long moment, searching her eyes. They were a little wild with excitement, confusion, and the beginnings of awareness. But that was all he saw. Absolutely no guile. He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. The night wouldn't give him any answers. Nor would she. He released her gently, breaking the spell. "Go."
At that soft command, she took one step back. Eyes locked on his, she took another.
Ah, poor little deer, he thought to himself. She was good and confused now. Mission accomplished. He doubted she would remember anything but this strange encounter of theirs in the rain when she thought of water the next time. "Go," he repeated loudly, laughter in his voice. She turned and ran back to the safety of her room.
Shaking his head at both their plights, he turned and went to the railing. He was laughing at them both.
The rain had stopped by now, and he stood there for a long time staring out into the night, seeking solace in the darkness again.
PS: tamatar pade tho I'll share with u Nandu 😆 me very generous that way 😆
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Taarak Mehta Ka Ooltah Chashmah
Tum Se Tum Tak
