Hello!
Here's another OS from my side - trying to fulfill the khwahish of seeing a protective Abhimanyu along with a sprinkle of pinga.
I was supposed to post it over the weekend but was called in for a 48 hour straight shift at the last minute. Apologies for the delay.
Happy reading.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Akshara kyu jaarahi hain, matlab? She’s my wife! I mean, what kind of a question is that, sir?”
Abhi looked like he didn’t know whether to be confused or angry. What was wrong with Harsh sir today? Once he began to soften towards Akshara, he had been all “Akshu” Akshu”...sometimes he felt sir called out to her more than he himself did. The only reason he bit back the sarcastic words that constantly hovered on the tip of his tongue was, because Akshu really wanted Harshavardhan Birla to accept and like her and every small gesture that indicated such a step, lit up her whole face. His father’s approval did mean a lot to her. Despite the constant pain and anger he had towards sir, Abhi could sense the affection that lit up sir’s eyes whenever he interacted with Akshara. But now…
“I know she’s your wife,” Harsh retorted. “I think by now the whole world knows she is your wife. You’re the Birla Majnu now turned Majnu Pati.”
“Sir!” Abhi felt both his fury and his growl building up. Honestly the man tested his temper every single damn day!
“You’re going to be meeting your friends. Your college friends, all of whom are doctors. What will she do there? You all will be talking about your surgeries, boasting on who achieved what…She’d feel out of place and…”
“Out of place? Seriously?”
“Abhi, I’m ready. Shall we go?” Akshara came down the stairs dressed in sleeveless dark pink embroidered crop top paired up with a navy blue embroidered bottom that came with a contoured waistband and flared voluminously touching the ankles. For once, she ditched her flats and chose heels. The bracelet was the one Mahima had gifted her for her wedding and earrings had been part of the set that her badi mamma had given her. Since it was an embroidered top, she stuck with just her thin strand of mangalsutra that had been neatly tucked under the top. Her dress perfectly complemented Abhi's, who had decided to go with black. Black shirt with the top two buttons left open, black trousers topped with black jacket, the only flash of color being the silver buckle of his belt and the gold chain around his neck.
Both men watched her, neither surprised when she tripped but stopped her fall by grabbing on to Abhi’s hand which was already extended towards her.
Akshara straightened with an awkward smile. “S-sorry. Woh, heels ki zyaada aadat nahi haina…”
Both men looked like they wanted to say something but were biting back the words. Harsh probably wanted to suggest some classes in walking and Abhi’s teasing retort would’ve been more along the lines of, you’re the kind to fall while sitting and standing. So no surprises there.
“Papa, hum chalte hain. Oh, the book I’d taken from your collection is really amazing! I have a lot to debate with you next time we get the time,” she piped in, her face full of eager anticipation.
Harsh’s nod was brief and brisk. “Akshu?” He called, before Abhi could take one step. There he goes again! Abhi almost rolled his eyes.
“Ji papa?”
“You guys are taking the car, right?”
“Ji.” She nodded after darting a quick glance at Abhi for confirmation.
“Good. Uh, have a good time and well…if you get bored or…feel out of place, come away. It’s hardly a conference or a function at Birlas with all dignitaries around. No need to stay if you don’t want to.”
“Ji. Goodnight.”
Harsh gave another brisk nod and walked away.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The party was in full swing by the time they reached. It was the first party they were attending as a married couple and the look of absolute pride and joy on their faces, coupled with the possessive way Abhi had his arm around Akshu’s waist as he introduced her to his friends and colleagues shouted out the fact that they were a couple crazily in love with each other. Despite her initial nervousness at meeting so many people all at once, Akshara quickly found her feet and began circulating, introducing herself, chatting and mostly absorbing Abhi’s equation among his fellow doctors…how much he was liked and respected not because he was a Birla but because he was genuinely a good man and a great doctor. Kanha ji, please continue to bless him and be with him like this, always, she sent a silent prayer.
For Abhi, it was great to once again connect with his friends and classmates with whom he’d spent 6 most important years of his life. After their internship, they had all chosen different branches and different colleges, and went their own ways. Oh how he missed those college days!
“So, how is married life treating you, my friend?” Tarak, one of his friends, patted his shoulder from behind.
Abhi grinned and both friends exchanged a tight hug, patting each other's back. “Hey! How are you? Long time!”
Tarak shrugged. “I’m good, same old. You first answer the question. How is married life? And I want to meet the girl who was able to disturb this Shiv Bhakt to the extent that he said bye bye to bachelorhood in the blink of an eye,” he added with a playful wink.
Abhi laughed. “Her name is Akshara.” Looking around, he spotted her chatting with another group of his classmates. “Chal, milvata hoon!”
~~~~~~~~~~
“So, Mrs Abhimanyu Birla, are you a homemaker?” One of the women asked her politely.
“No. I’m actually a music therapist.”
The lady’s eyes lit up with interest. “Oh! I didn’t know music therapy is gaining importance in India too! That’s great! I’m a psychiatrist and you won’t believe for how many people I’ve suggested…”
“Where do you work?” The guy beside her asked. “Let me guess…Birla hospital, right?”
“Ji,” Akshara replied with a smile.
The guy snickered. “Birlas got themselves a daughter in law but in this day and age, it won’t look nice if they say she is a homemaker so they invented this job for her, eh? Oh, please don’t misunderstand me, Akshara ji. I’m pretty sure you sing very well but music therapy? Seriously?” Akshara struggled to keep her smile in place. “What is it that you do? Sing lullabies in the paeds ward?”
“You haven’t changed an inch, have you, Bhavi?”
Akshu turned to see Abhi walking up to stand beside her. With lips that were smiling and eyes that were spitting fire, he said, “You know Akshu, during our college days, we used to call him Badthameez Bhavi. And even after all these years, he hasn’t changed at all!” He drawled. “Leave it to him to insult my wife, her profession, music therapists and homemakers all in one shot! Matlab, kamaal ho yaar tum toh!”
“Arre, Abhimanyu, I wasn’t…”
“Achha yeh bata, what is the cure for cerebral palsy?”
Bhavi shook his head. “You know there’s no cure as yet, Abhimanyu. It’s caused by brain damage before or during birth. It’s a loss of control of arms and legs.”
“Birlas mein ek aisa bachha hain. Cerebral palsy diagnosed right after birth. Now 10 years old, blind and diabetic. One of Akshara’s first patients. She has been teaching him slokas, giving him music lessons. He says he wants to grow up to become a singer.” Abhi took a step closer to Bhavi, with the same smile and the same fury burning in his eyes, singeing the man until he almost winced. “What we doctors and researchers are still struggling to treat, music has already succeeded in treating. Akshara has succeeded. She helps an autistic kid learn. And she is one the doctors call when a schizophrenia patient goes out of control. And you know my father. You know he is not the type to invent jobs for anyone.” He began adjusting Bhavi’s tie. “Birla Hospital is lucky to have Akshara as a part of the team. And as for the insult you made on homemakers, I’ll leave it to our girls here to give you the reply or better yet, go and say it to your mom. She’d be the best one to show you what it takes to be a homemaker.” On that note, he turned back to his wife, his expression once again warm and friendly. “Akshara, meet my friend Tarak. Tarak, this is Akshara!”
Tarak grinned as he shook hands with Akshara. “Hi Akshara.” Then with a mischievous glint, he went on, “You know, we used to call Abhi, AngryManyu. His temper was always on a hair-trigger. Baap re!”
Akshara giggled. “I know. He told me.”
“After your marriage, a few of my friends here told me, he has changed, his temper has cooled off and all. I said, no way. Not possible. Now I realize they were right. But I wasn’t wrong either. He has changed but his temper has not cooled off. Buss ab woh AngryManyu se Abhira bangaya.” At everyone’s confused looks, he laughed. “Akshara’s Abhimanyu. Abhira.” And laughingly sidestepped, placing Akshara between himself and Abhi as Abhi tried to catch him.
As he and his friends continued goofing around, all Akshara could do was control her impulse to hug him tight and smother him with kisses. Her Abhi, she thought, hugging those words to herself. Her Abhi. Her partner. Her lover. Hers and her ALONE!
~~~~~~~~~
Abhi had always known his Akshu was not the demure, shy lover. There was never any hesitancy when they were together even during all those months of turmoil and separation before their marriage. And after their first time, her shyness had taken leave. She claimed him with her touch as boldly as she had claimed his heart the first time he’d seen her and heard her.
But she was different that night, he thought, as he lay back on his pillow, forcing his eyes to stay open to watch her move over him, tormenting him with her hands and mouth. He bit back a curse as he felt her lips slide from his shoulder to neck to chin, parting his lips at her invasion, groaning as he felt her hands sliding up the hard, warm wall of his chest . Her touch felt extra possessive. Extra hot.
He freed his mouth and gasped, "What brought this on?"
“Why? You don’t…like it?” she whispered, as her hands slid further down.
“Dammit! No!”
She stilled her hands and her lips left their foray on his body. “No?”
“Urrggh! Akshara! That’s not…please don’t stop!”
He felt her smile as she resumed her torture. His fingers dug into her hair as her body arched over him, claiming him as hers once again. Their faces shiny with sweat, expressions at once tortured and ecstatic. He had never been loved by her like this before - wild, untamed, uncontrolled. And he absorbed it all. Closed his eyes and went with the whirlwind that was her loving. Became a part of it. Until her body relaxed and fell over his, blanketing him. And he cradled her. Listening to their thundering hearts slowly settle down.
Meri taraf aata har gham phisal jaaye
Aankhon mein tum ko bharun
Bin bole baatein tumse karun
‘gar tum saath ho..
Agar tum saath ho
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