Jeet had realised when the dust had finally settled.
When all was said and done.
When there was nothing left to say and nothing left to do.
The thing about Jeet was that he was never a very secure person. It had taken him time, to build walls around himself, to shield himself up, to let the words of people whose opinions did not matter not affect him, to close himself off from the world. It had taken him too long a time for him to build him those walls and raise his shields to see his walls crumble like they were made of Styrofoam, to see his shields penetrated like they were paper thin, to see himself fall for a person whose opinions were the only ones to matter to him.
Their journey had not been an easy one. Her journey was not an easy one. His journey was still ongoing. They had difficult lives even when they were from two different worlds.
She suffered even when she had a family. A protective father and mother, a caring brother. Her father was merely restricting and blind, her mother was insecure and regressive, her brother was caring, but inattentive. A family of four under a blind man, each a victim in their own way. She being the one to suffer the most.
He suffered. A lot. An absent father, a disgraced mother, and a happy family just out of his reach. He may not respect his father, but he loved him. Oh, how he loved him. He craved a bonding with his half siblings, but like many things in his life, he would rather stay away than get attached. He was attached to one person in his life, his Nani, but she too had to leave. That was why he melted whenever his Dadi was near him. He felt her genuine care, something-something about some people being the reason your heart thaws.
But his Dadi was not the one that was thawing his heart.
It was her.
Saumya.
Jeet had never been stupid. He craved stupid things and he did stupid deeds but he was always intentional.
Falling for her was the most stupid thing he could do unintentionally in his life.
He was not a saviour. He did not get involved in other people’s business. While he may help someone in need, he never goes out of his way to continue keeping tabs on their lives just because he helped them. He never got beaten up for someone. He never pushed someone who he had helped once in his life to stand up for themselves. He never felt bad when someone he helped did not stand up for him. However, never had he felt good when someone he helped did stand up for him.
He’d know her for a mere month and he’d already done things for her, things he’s never done for anyone.
All this, for one person, for her.
His Junior. Saumya Mathur.
It wasn’t fair, the way life had treat her, the way a person she considered her family treated her, the way life let her spark die, the way she turned from a happy, bubbly girl to the shell she was when he met her, the way she wasn’t allowed to be what she wanted to be, the way she was oppressed and suppressed by the people who should’ve supported her, the way life turned her into what she never was meant to be.
And meant to be.
Whatever she was meant to be, he was sure she wasn’t meant to be his.
If she had turned out the way she was meant to be, she would have never needed his help, she would’ve never paid attention to him, she would’ve never even looked at him.
She never would have meant to him what she means to him now.
Or maybe. Maybe she was always meant to be what she means to him now.
If nothing had ever happened, if she was always the brave girl he knew she was, if she was confident and open and loved, like she was meant to be, would she still mean to him what she means to him now? Would he still feel for her what he felt for her had she not been someone hehad to help? Would he fall in love with her if he had met her in another life?
But more than that, more than anything, would she feel for him what he sees she feels for him? Would she still understand him, stand by him, love him, if she was that brave, confident and outspoken girl he had always seen glimpses of? Would she even look at him if she never needed his help?
What did it matter, she had asked, when he’d said what she felt for him was just gratefulness. What does it mean, she had asked, when he’d said she wouldn’t feel what she felt had he not helped her. You are wrong, she had replied, defeated, when he’d said she deserved better than him.
I know you are the one for me, she’d reiterated, when he’d said that someone better, like Hridhaan, deserved her love, who deserved to love her.
They hadn’t said the words, that they loved each other, they hadn’t, but he did.
She was everything.
Every step he took towards her reminded him of the words their fathers had spoken to him about their relationship, in that there shouldn’t be one.
Her father had requested, pleaded, that his daughter was not brave enough, strong enough, confident enough, to fight the world beside him, for him, for her, and for them.
His father had called him fire, burning away every good thing in his life.
She was the best of it.
He would never be the one to burn her.
-----‐--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saumya had realised when the storm had risen.
When it was time to ride or die
When all that was left to do was fight and fight and fight. For herself.
The thing about Saumya was that she had always been a secure person. She was sure that her parents loved her, that her brother loved her, that her family was loving one, that she had the best friends anyone could have, that she was brave, confident and liked. Then one of people she trusted most in the world changed her life and when she was brave enough to tell another person she trusted, that person slowly quietened her, and the person she trusted the most, could see that her world changed, but never dug deep enough to find out as to why it changed.
It had taken her time, to create a bubble made of acid surrounding her. It had taken her time to never allow people she didn’t know, strangers, to enter that bubble. It had taken time, to never allow the people she did know, family, to enter that bubble. It had taken panic and quiet and fear and hate to make people see the invisible yet acidic bubble around her. So that a person never enters lest they suffer a burn.
But they always did.
People saw her and her weakness and thought that she was easy to touch, but she knew was acidic. She burned with rage, the quiet kind, that slowly burned her too.
Never had she met a person who did not want to enter her bubble. Never had she met a person who wanted to stay away from her. Never had she met a person that pushed her away, even when she wanted to be close to him.
Until him.
Jeet Sir.
Never before him had she wanted a person to enter her bubble as much as she craved for him to enter that bubble.
He was the first person to interpret her quiet as acid, her fear as trauma.
A person, whom she could talk to without talking, whom she understood without knowing, whose hurt she recognised without him ever showing it to her. A person who was brave, confident, who fought for what he believed in, who stood up for her, even when no one else did, all the while not knowing one single thing about her.
One person in the world who she learned not to hesitate while talking to. The one person who, despite not looking it, listened to her, who did not hesitate to get to her eye level to just talk to her. The one person who she wished would enter her bubble and just touch her.
Their journey was long, and arduous, and heart-wrenching, and heart-breaking, and never-ending. But she wanted their journey to be together.
She’d known him for a mere month and it already felt like she had known him for a lifetime.
She’d always felt weird in his presence. First, when she thought of him as a bully, and then, when she realised he wasn’t a one. First, when he was shirtless and attractive and a shock to her system, and then, when he was protective and passionate and dependable
But never had she thought that she would come to rely on him. Never had she thought that she would become a person he would ever think to rely on. That his protection of her would spark the need she had suppressed to protect others.
And how she knew he craved protection.
She could see him, even when others couldn’t. She could see his hurt when his father refused to accept him. She could see his hurt whenever her father taunted him for being illegitimate. She could see the hurt when Hridhaan tried to be his brother. She could see his hurt when Paankhi ended up hurting him with her harsh words. She could feel his joy whenever his Dadi gave him even an inch of her attention.
She could see his walls, protecting him, just as her acid bubble did for her.
But she also knew that it would have been so easy if he did not have his walls and she did not have her bubble. If he had been loved by his family, if he had been a member of a loving family, if she had not gone through what she went through, it would have been so easy. She would have just been a girl in love with a boy, and it would have been so easy, to fall in love, that way.
But. You’re just grateful, he said when she’d confessed to him without her words. You don’t think you would feel this way if I hadn’t protected you, he said, when she tried to tell him her feelings were true. You deserve better, he said, when she was defeated in asking for her feelings to be reciprocated.
You deserve someone better, like Hridhaan, he said, when she asked him to be the one for her. Someone who deserved the love you have to give. Someone who deserved to love you.
They hadn’t said the words, that they loved each other, but she did.
He was everything
Every step he had taken away from her, every time he could have touched her but didn’t, every time he protected her when he didn’t need to, every time he was hurt by the family he never had the chance to have, every single moment where he motivated her to speak her truth, she had loved him.
If he would just let her, she would fight the whole world for him. It would take her some time, but she knew now, that she had the courage, to stand by him in his fight against his father. She knew now, that she would be willing to go to great lengths just for him to be safe. Happy.
I am fire, I would burn you, he had said, when she asked for the reason, and she, unable to break her habit, had not replied that she was already burning and it had nothing to do with him.
He was soothing
He was everything.
-----‐--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A long time ago, someone had said that Beer and Life are both bitter. You get used to it after trying it a few times. Then, she had interpreted it as her needing courage to try the Life she wanted for herself, even if it was bitter. The Beer was not important.
The Madhira was quite important now.
The Bitter Madhira, was quite sweet today.
It drowned all her sorrows, just like all those poems and stories and movies and shows said. She always thought that they were exaggerated. That there were perfectly reasonable methods to drown your sorrows without using The Madhira. But The Madhira that should have been bitter tasted sweet when you were heartbroken.
The Madhira was also good for quietening her hyperactive mind. Or that was maybe because it loosened her tongue. She was babbling. She knew she was. Standing in the middle of the street between her and her best-friend’s house, she was babbling, hiccupping, dancing and being a nuisance in general.
The good thing about the truth of her uncle coming out was that her father no longer forced her to carry the suitcase full of Sanskaar and Izzat on her shoulders. And without that heavy suitcase on her shoulders, she felt light. She felt good.
The truth really will set you free.
She laughed at her brother trying to stop her, pulling her inside the house that was supposed to be her resting place, but had turned into a place where she could only rest in peace.
She was very against going into that house in this state. She was already weak, inebriated.
“Agar Tauji andar hue toh?”, she asked, quite loudly, enough that her father, mother and aunt had heard the commotion her brother was trying and failing to prevent.
Her father was furious; she could imagine by the way he shouted her name. She covered her ears. For a man who is so stuck on Sanskaar and Izzat, his shout would attract people who would clearly love to challenge their family’s honour.
Or the shambles that was left of it.
She turned and saw her mother moving towards her, while her aunt stood at the entrance. Her mother tried to get her inside the house, but she stopped when she asked again, “Tauji andar hai kya?”
Her mother let her go with a slight jerk. Her acidic bubble was still strong at work.
It was Paankhi, and she was the one who made her realise that the Saxena’s were also in on this show, who turned her away from her house and towards her sanctuary, that was why she beamed at Paankhi and hugged, “Paankhi, aaj mein tumhare ghar pe ruku? Chalega?”
She heard a gasp somewhere, and she beamed again, “Oh, Hridhaan bhi waapas aaya hai. Hridhaan pakka mujhe bacha lega.”
But something was not quite adding up, she knew she was going wrong somewhere, what with all her head empty and quietened after a long time.
It clicked when she heard a sob behind her.
It was her mother, and while she felt bad that her mother was crying, she didn’t hesitate to comfort, “Maa, sab theek hai. Aaj mein Paankhi aur Hridhaan ko sab bata dungi, aur kal, kal sab theek ho jayega.”
She waited, waited and waited, but her mother did not say anything, just kept crying, and that’s when she realised her mother was once again asking the impossible from her. She was once again asking her to not say anything to anyone. She was once again asking her to keep her quiet.
She let go of her mother this time, taking a step away from her, and whispered, “Theek hai Maa, mein kuch nahi kahungi. Par mein rahungi Paankhi aur Hridhaan ke saath hi.”
She did not know what she said, but now Saumya could see most of the faces around her crying. Her mother was crying already, her father also had tears in his eyes, and her brother was faced away from her, but she could see his shoulders shaking. Paankhi was crying openly and Hridhaan too, had angry tears in his eyes.
She could also see that most of the Saxena’s eyes were numb and she could see the disgust in her aunt’s eyes, but she did not care. She cared about not entering her house
Amidst all the crying, she heard it.
The motor.
Through squinting eyes, she saw it.
The headlight.
As her heart began beating wildly, she felt it.
His presence.
Oh.
It was him.
She watched, as he looked at all of them. She watched as he locked eyes with her, only to look away. She watched as he turned away from her, all under the pretence of removing his helmet and locking his Baby. She watched as he got his Baby, brushing his fingers through his hair, still not looking at her. She watched as he began towards the entrance, and she began following him into the house.
She looked in surprise at the arm holding her back, only to realise Paankhi was not letting her go. She smiled and made Paankhi let go of her. She smiled at her sweet friend and said, “Ab ghar jaane mein koi problem nahi hai. Tumhe pata nahi hai, but Tauji Jeet Sir se bahut darte hai, Jeet Sir mujhe unse protect karenge.”
She grinned at Pankhi, following Jeet Sir into the house only to realise he’d stopped. He turned around and looked at her, and leaned slowly against the gate of her house, as if he was looking at her, trying to figure her out.
She didn’t understand.
She sighed and once again began towards her house. She would be protected now she knew he was here. She was stopped once again, “Yeh, yeh tumhe protect karenge? Saumya, hum, mein aur Hridhaan Bhai hai tumhe protect karne ke liye. Tumhe inki protection kyun chahiye?”
Saumya clicked her tongue, explaining Paankhi, “Paankhi, aise nahi bolte hai. Tum jaanti ho woh aise nahi hai jaise tum unhe samajhti hun.”
Paankhi replied, irritated, “Woh jaise hai hum sab jaante hai. Badtameez, irritating, red-flag aur---”
Saumya couldn’t take it anymore, so she didn’t, “Just stop it, Paankhi. Unhe woh banane ki koshish mat karo joh woh hai hinahi.”
Paankhi scoffed, “Please Saumya, inhe defend karne ki koi zaroorat nahi hai.”
Saumya bitterly chuckled, “Kyun? Kyun nahi karu mein inhe defend.”
She moved towards him, grabbing a hold of the zipper of his jacket, pulling him behind her with that zipper, dragging him in the middle of the street, without any protest from his side. She stood in front of Paankhi and let go of him, and pointed to him with her whole hand, like he was a specimen she was presenting upon.
“Kya buraai hai inme. College mein topper hai. Sports mein topper hai. Popular hai. Ache khase paise kama lete hai, teen saal ka deposit diya tha inhone SharmaJi ko, har mahine ka kiraaya bhi time pe dete hai. Aur logon ki kitni madad karte hai. Jab mein pehle inse mili thi toh puri class ki madad kar rahe the. Aur Dadi ka kaam toh karne se yeh kabhi mana hi nahi kar paate. College mein mere saath jab bhi kuch bura hone wala hota hai, tab kahin se bhi prakat ho jaate hai aur mujhe bacha lete hai. Haan inka tareeka humesha sahi nahi hota, but bachane ki koshish toh karte hai.”, she spoke, in one breath.
She looked at him then, and found that he was already looking at her, she blushed and looked away from him immediately, and continued, “Aur sirf kitaabein hi nahi, yeh logon ko bhi ache se padh lete hai. Ek hafta laga inhe samajhne mein ke meri life mein kuch toh solid galat hua hai. Jiski wajah se mein waisi hun jaisi mein hun. Aur yeh galat bhi nahi the. Inse baat karna aasaan hai. Yeh insaan ko samajhne ki koshish karte hai. Warna mein toh kabhi inhe bata hi nahi paati, aur naa yeh Tauji ko dara paate. Haan, ek problem hai inme, inko ego bahut hai.”
She nodded, but continued again, “Par woh theek hi hai. I mean Dean Sir jaise father ho toh problem kaunse bache mein nahi hogi.”
She looked up at him again, nodding along as if she understood exactly why he was the way he was. She shrugged when she saw that his eyebrows were raised.
“Actually, inki ek problem zaroorat se zyaada handsome hona bhi hai.”, she mused, and heard her brother choking on something. She was about to go to her brother when she was interrupted.
“Kya matlab hai tumhara,”, interrupting them was Neeta Ma'am, who continued asking when Saumya turned to look at her, “ke Dean Sir jaise father ho toh problem kaunse bache mein problem nahi hogi.”
She shrugged, not understanding where all the anger was coming from, and tried to make them understand, “Paankhi literally aag ugalti hai, use pata bhi nahi chalta jab woh apne friends ko hurt kar deti hai. Uska din pura nahi hota, bina Dean Sir se dur bhaagte, aur fir bhi uski baton mein mujhe Dean Sir ka zehar sunai deta hai. Hridhaan literally ghar se bhaag gaya, just because use Dean Sir se dur jaana tha. And abhi bhi Dean Sir kabhi Hridhaan ko support nahi karte. Hockey Hridhaan ka dream tha, aur unhone woh bhi tod diya. Aur Jeet Sir, Jeet Sir ki toh saare issues highlighter se mark kiye dikhte hai sabko.”
At this point Saumya was not making her points, but just running her monologue. Oh, how she missed those days when she would talk and talk and talk and no one would stop her. She felt good enough to continue.
So, she did, “Zara Kalpana kijiye, agar Dean Sir Jeet Sir ko ekdam shuruaat mein hi apnaa lete, toh Jeet Sir saat saal pehle hi Tauji ko darakar, dhamkakar, mujhe bacha lete. Yaa fir, agar Dean Sirka Vivahetar Sambandh hi nahi hota toh Hridhaan aapke jhagdo se pareshaan hokar London hi nahi jaata. Aur use toh sab samajh aa hi jaata."
She nodded at herself; she was pleased at the point she had made.
“Vivahetar Sambandh?” asked Jeet Sir, in that exaggerated tone of his. The one that implied he did not understand what she was saying.
So, she clarified, “Vivahetar, extramarital, Sambandh, affair?”
She frowned when she realised that her point had a huge hole, and refracted it, “Nahi. Actually, Dean Sir ne extramarital affair karke sahi hi kiya.”
“Oh? Aur woh kyun Di?”, the one to ask this time was her brother. Who had this mischievous expression on his face. One she had seen a thousand different times. It almost always spelled trouble for her.
But that did not stop her from answering, “Fir mujhe Jeet Sir kabhi nahi milte naa.”
And she did not mean to say that. She did not. Because she didn’t. She didn’t have him. He did not let her have him. She was hurt and unhappy and she had confessed without confessing, and he had rejected her without rejecting her.
And she was supposed to be wallowing in grief and burying her sorrows in The Madhira, but here she was, drunk and still defending him.
Oh, how she was gone on him.
It was unfair he did not feel the same.
It was unfair that he thought that she would not love him had he not protected her. It was unfair of him to say that he did not deserve her. It was unfair of him to say that she was meant to be with someone like Hridhaan. It was unfair that he thought he would burn her when she was already burning.
Feeling like shit once again, she grasped the beer can, The Madhira, she had been holding all this time and tried to take a sip, tried being the key word.
He was there, his finger stuck on the pull-tab of the can, preventing her from taking a sip.
She tried again, only to be stopped again.
She hmphed, and he chuckled.
Lowering his head to meet her eyes, he asked, “Madhira peene se kya hota hai Junior?”
She sighed, but answered anyway, “Isse nasha hota hai, mansik santulan bigad jaata hai, bolchaal par niyantran nahi rehta hai, agle din sar dukhta hai, aur kadwi hoti hai.”
He nodded, attentive as always, listening as always, “Toh fir kyun pi rahi ho.”
She met his gaze, knowing he knew the answer, cursing him because he knew the answer, but replying anyway, “Kyunki aaj yeh kadwi nahi hai Jeet Sir.”
Saumya watched as something quietly shattered in his eyes. The way it often did when he was listening to something that was hurting him.
She never wanted to hurt him.
She never intended to hurt him.
God knows how many people in this world strive to strike him.
She never wanted to be one of them.
So, she sighed, defeated once again. She let go of The Madhira. She took a step away from him as he first watched the beer can hanging from his finger and then he looked at her. She took another step away from him, backing away from him, while they were looking into each other’s eyes. He was the one to look away from her when she took another step backing away from him, his gaze moving away from her eyes to her feet. She took yet another step backwards when he finally straightened, their gazes meeting one last time before she turned away from him
Turning away from Jeet Sir, she came face to face with her father. The crushing defeated look on his face when he saw her and the switch to anger when he looked behind her was as different as night and day.
She felt Jeet Sir follow her, trying to protect her from the oncoming wrath she knew her father felt, not realising that it would unleash upon himself. He had no one to protect him, yet he was about to move to take all her father’s anger upon himself, not even for the first time. He had done this countless times.
But this time was not those times and before her father could even utter a word she said, “Unhe dosh mat dena.”
Her father spluttered, but she did not care, she continued, “Unhe dosh dene ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. Woh naahi yeh jaante the ki mein kaha thi, naahi yeh jaante hai ki mujhe Madhira kisne di. Woh ab mujhse seedhe muh baat bhi nahi karte hai. Unhe lagta hai unke andar ki aag mujhe jala degi.”
She scoffed, “Shayad unhe yeh nahi pata ke ek jale hue insaan ko aag sirf raahat deti hai.”
She turned to look at him once again, only to see him stopped shocked in his steps. An expression she has never seen on his face before.
She was too drunk to decipher what he was thinking.
She turned back to her father once again, “Unhone bahut baar meri galtiyon kaa pitara apne sar liya hai. Meri kya, unhone apne maa aur pita ki galtiyon ka pitara bhi apne sar pe leke rakha hai. Ab aur nahi pareshan karna chahti mein unhe apne takleefo ki wajah se. Woh yeh deserve nahi karte.”
With that she left them. She was done for the day. The liquid courage had turned into fatigue. She entered the house, looked at the space her Tauji used to occupy there, sighed when she still saw him, fully aware he was not actually there, she slithered past him, towards her parents’ room, where he dares not follow behind her, and collapsed on the bed, right in the middle.
She would be safe here. Not protected, that was not going to happen until Jeet Sir got there, but until then, at least she would be safe there.
She fell asleep, unaware of how she had unleashed the storm that rose within her.
-----‐--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He regretted it, when he watched her walk away from him. He regretted every bit of that conversation. He regretted letting her walk away thinking that whatever feelings that existed were one-sided. He regretted making her believe that she deserved better than him, that he did not deserve her. He regretted swallowing whatever those old guys had fed him.
He regretted everything.
And there he was, after screaming his regrets to four women who’ll listen to him.
His Nani, Ganga Maa, Yamuna Maa and Saraswati Maa.
His Nani had always taught him, “Triveni kissi ki bhi asha ko thukrati nahi hai. Unka Sangam jaise ek karishma hai, waise hiwoh karishmein rachati hai aur tumhari ichhao ko pura kar deti hai.”
Whenever he could not reach her Kalash, he would reach the Triveni Sangam. Those were the only ladies who would ever think to listen to him.
Well, there was one another, but he chased heraway.
Jeet had lived his life on a set of principles. He always followed them. They were simple too. First, don’t ever butt in to other people’s business. Second, never respect people who do not respect you. Third, never let what people say affect you. Fourth, never regret anything that he’s already done. Fifth, never use his father’s money.
She was the reason he had broken four of his principles.
Her’s is the business he constantly butts into. Unprompted, and sometimes, unwanted. He remembered, her pleading to leave her alone. He remembered, her fury at him calling her his girlfriend. He remembered, saving her even when he shouldn’t want to.
It was her father he respected, even though he was never respected by her father. Her father loved her, unconditionally. That man would go to the ends of the earth for her. He may be restricting and protective and naïve and stupid, but Jeet respected the guy. He trusted the guy to be on her side when she finally told him the truth and he did not break that trust, making Jeet respect the guy even more.
He was always affected when her name was joined with his. When people made up bullshit between them, it affected her, so it affected him. Her b*st*rd uncle affected him because of her. But he was most affected by her. Her Kasams, her promises, her praises, her compliments, her standing by his side, her fighting the world, but mostly herself, for him, affected him beyond anything.
She was the only regret he had left in his life. She was what he would mourn for, because she was the only one he had let go. His father, if he lost his father tomorrow, he would not regret not making amends. If his mother was with him, he would not regret hating her for how his life turned out. But he would regret letting her go. He will always regret letting her walk away from his life when she’s become his only hope in it.
So yes, Jeet f*cked up. Royally. He let a woman, a girl really, f*ck up his life and principles. He had no idea how he would ever succeed in letting her fully go.
It had been a week, a week since that conversation where she had confessed without confessing, and he had rejected without rejecting, and he buzzed around her like she was the Queen Bee. She was unaware, or he hoped she was, of his presence following her. She didn’t know of the ways he was always in her corner.
Just how was he supposed to let go of the one person that made him feel like a person again.
He had to.
He’d promised her father. He’d promised her father that she would never suffer because his fate was like words written in sand, letting water fade them away every time it waved. He’d understood his father’s unintentional plea to let her go because he was fire and he would burn the world away if he could.
But she was everywhere. She was in the canteen when he missed her Shakar ka Parathas. She was near his Baby in that she did not let her fall. She was in the doorway of his room, with the mosquito coil burning away the mosquito bites. She was in the Angan, with her bottles half empty, scolding him without uttering a single word. She was in the rain, defeated and weak. She was in the police station, victorious and strong. She was in the street, beautiful in the red.
She was in his soul, his breath, his mind, his heart.
She was not with him at all.
And he could only blame himself.
He couldn’t possibly return to the house early. He would not be welcomed.
Not by her.
Her family though, her family was another scenario. While her father still did not respect him, he accepted that Jeet was someone his daughter leaned on when she couldn’t lean on him. Her mother still did not understand him, confused by his antics and his unpredictability, but she still fed him every meal that she prepared, as if he was a part of their family. Her brother, her brother had turned up the hero worship by another notch and now follows him around even more.
Not her though. Not since that day.
She never backed away from him, but she did not actively seek him anymore. They had never touched one another, and while at first it was unintentional on his side, never having entered anyone’s personal space without their consent before, it was now intentional on her side. The slight hitch in her breath when he was in her vicinity, the hurt in her eyes, her reluctance to talk to him and her visibly shutting her mouth even when she wanted to say something to him, all intentional, and not, at the same time.
So, being aware that he was not welcomed in her company, he tried to stay away.
He went to the house late, he was always sober, he did not do anything stupid at the house so as to avoid conversations with her and he did not hope that she would seek him out for silent late-night conversations. Again.
But he had an assignment due the next day, so he was already about to pull an all-nighter, and he needed time to complete the assignment. The only reason he was there at ten in the night.
Once he came to know how she would go out of her way to avoid him, he made it a mission to return after midnight.
Well, his grades mattered. To her at least.
He never imagined he would get to witness her drunk out of her mind when he reached the house.
At first when he saw everyone out on the street, he groaned inwardly.
What now, he thought.
But when he looked at her, exactly at the centre of the universe, he could not, for the life of him, concentrate on anyone else. She was the focal point. She was there, and no one else was.
He pulled himself together fast enough.
He guessed there was some or the other drama going around again.
Whatever.
He moved towards the house, purely because he did not want to look at the hurt in her eyes at his dismissal. He was already miserable enough, he did not want to add her misery to his own.
Her words shocked him to the core.
The slight slur, the drag and the sing-song quality of the words aside, her words made him realise that she was not in her right mind.
“Ab ghar jaane mein koi problem nahi hai. Tumhe pata nahi hai, but Tauji Jeet Sir se bahut darte hai, Jeet Sir mujhe unse protect karenge.”, those exact words, that she had uttered, had finally given him a glimpse into what was actually going on.
He turned around, because he could not believe it until he saw it, but there she was, a beer can in her hand, smiling dopily, stumbling in Paankhi’s arms and drunk out of her mind. He paused, this was not supposed to have happened. She was not supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be happy, the genuine happy that he knew she had not felt in a longtime.
Instead, there she was, drunk out of her mind.
He leaned back in shock, glad for the support of the wall.
Now if only he had the courage to go to her and stop her from what was going to be somethings Sober Saumya would never forgive Drunk Saumya for. He knew he had to muster some of his courage to stop her, but he couldn’t force himself to take step towards her.
He didn’t need to though.
Because she was there, dragging him with the zipper of his jacket, in the middle of the universe, at the focal point, in her world. And he was letting her. In fact, he was unable to stop her. He was unable to command himself to stop her.
When she pointed at him as if he was some specimen she was about to present, his heart thundered. When she complimented him, he felt joy. When she ended up insulting his father backhandedly, he was elated
When she called him handsomer than needed, his heart dropped.
She was perfect. She was amazing. She was what he always knew her to be and he was so in love with her.
When she said that his father was right for the affair, just because it led him to her life, he knew he was wrong.
He could not ever let her go.
He could not ever reject her.
He could not ever let her walk away from him again.
But she was, right there and then, backing away from him. Like she still remembered all the harsh words he’d spoken in hopes that she would let him go, that she would realise that he was not right for her, that she only felt for him what she felt for him because he helped her a few times.
But those words, weren’t they all actually to protect himself. Since his childhood, he had shielded himself, from people, from friends and from family. Because once anyone found his deepest flaw, they changed, they hurt him and they distanced themselves. So, he decided he would do it first.
He would never let anyone come close enough to ever hurt him again. Keep everyone at an arm’s length by being harsh, by getting into fights, by never letting anyone close.
And he had succeeded to push away the one person that he actually wanted within his walls, within his shields.
He wanted her within his soul.
He didn’t want to stop her, because for once in his life, someone was standing up for him, spreading the poison in his heart so sweetly that the person in front of them had no choice but to drink it.
But he knew she would regret it. She would.
So, he stopped her, and reminded her of the conversation they had just few weeks ago, which already felt like it was millennium ago, and she repeated what she had said then.
She also answered, “Kyunki aaj yeh kadwi nahi hai Jeet Sir.”, when he asked her why she was drinking.
Saumya Mathur, the only girl in the world who could elate him with happiness in one moment and drown him in sorrow the next.
His heart was breaking when she was backing away from him. His heart was shattered when she turned away from him.
His heart started beating again when she defended him from her father once again.
When he saw her defending him from her father, he understood that he wasn’t meant to be like this. If she was turning into what she was meant to be, then he too should be what he was meant to be.
He shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be pushing her away from him. Not when she was pushing herself so much for him. Not when he was already regretting letting her walk away from him.
Her being like this, protecting him, helping him, complimenting him, praising him, defending him, finding him handsome and appreciating his presence in her life, so much that she could justify his parents’ affair, was not anything new.
She had already done all this.
She protected him, the day after he had protected her from that Leechad Professor, by refusing to sign on a statement that would suspend him from the college. He knew she would have continued had Hridhaan not come.
She helped him, at that football match, where his own father was gunning for his suspension, using her precious words to make him understand.
She complimented and praised him, at the police station, in front of actual police officers, at eleven in the night, just so he wouldn’t spend a life with a record.
She defended him, against her father of all people, when she came to write his exam for him, fighting for his rights, something he has always done alone.
Her interest in his handsomeness was not anything new. If he didn’t know any better, he would assume she found him attractive also. Her speechlessness at his shirtlessness was proof enough.
And her appreciation for his presence in her life had always been visible to him. At every moment she went out of her way to do something for him, every time she gathered up her courage for him, every second her gaze searched and met his, every word, spoken and unspoken, between them, proved that she appreciated his presence in her life.
Why was he actually doing this?
Why was he actually torturing himself when life had done enough of it?
He chuckled, a happy laugh, that bubbled its way out his chest. The genuine happiness that he felt was something he’s not felt in a really long time.
He turned away from the Mathur’s, facing the man that was meant to be his father, and sighed, “Kya kaha tha apne, Babuji?”, he exaggerated the last word, as he usually did.
“Hum sab ka jeena toh tum pehle hi haram kar chuke ho aur ab Saumya ki life bhi kharaab karna chahte ho. Mujhe nahi lagta ke usse lagta hai ki mein uski life kharaab kar raha hun.” He nodded, shaking his head.
He had decided, and no one could change his mind now.
He looked once again into his father’s eyes, “Aag ho tum. Yaad hai aapko, agar koi acha karne ke liye bhi tumhare kareeb aaye naa, toh jal ke bhasm ho jayega. Aapko toh yeh kabhi pata hi nahi tha ki Saumya Mathur, jalke raak hoke naya janam le chuki hai. Usse ab aag se dar nahi lagta.”
“Jeet---”, his father began, but he turned away from him. Facing the one man he respected without expecting any respect in return.
The father of the girl he was deep diving in love with.
“Meri beti jitna tumse dur rahegi utna hi Saumya ke liye acha hai. Acha nahi tha UncleJi. Jitna woh mujhse dur thi utna hi uske liye bura tha. Apke hi shabdh hai. Woh khush rahegi, woh dukhi thi, mehfoos rahegi, woh khatre mein thi.”, he paused, letting Anoop realise what Jeet was referring to.
Jeet grinned, when he saw the realisation in his eyes, “Masoom hai woh. Masoom nahi hai woh UncleJi, uski masoomiyat usse cheen li gayi. Komal hai. Komal nahi hai, kissi ki bhi dhal banneki kabiliyat rakhti hai. Logon se nazre milake baat tak nahi kar sakti, toh kya hua? Seekh legi UncleJi. Darti hai, ghabra jaati hai. Mere hote hue kabhi nahi. Kabhi bhi nahi.”
He shook visibly, “Haan aapki beti sakht nahi hai, but usse hone ki zaroorat bhi nahi hai UncleJi. Mein hum dono ke liye akela hi sakht kaafi hun.”
He wafted his fingers through his hair, his hand above his head, an uncontrollable grin on his face, “Agar tumhare jaise ladke ka naam uske saath judega toh woh safaai nahi de payegi logon ko. Usse dene ki zaroorat bhi nahi hai UncleJi. Meine usse uski ladaai khud ladne ki himmat di, naa ki uski ladaai uske liye ladi. Waise hi woh bhi mujhe himmat degi, apni ladai ladne ki, naa ki meri ladaiyan mere liye ladegi.”
He didn’t know where he had found the courage to do this, he was about to do the most insane thing in his life, and he already had a pretty insane track record.
But he moved forward anyway, “Mera Saumya ke saath koi lena dena nahi hona chahiya. Aur mere jaise ladke ka lena dena ho bhi nahi sakta. Well, guess what UncleJi, mera aur Saumya ka ek dusre ke saath lena dena ho bhi sakta hai, and ho bhi gaya hai. Jisse ladna hai, joh ukhadna hai, ukhaad lijiye.”
He saw the shock on everyone’s faces, some heartbreak too, but he didn’t let that deter him.
Saumya loved him.
He loved her.
No one was allowed to stop them.
No one was going to stop them.
Not while he was here.
Tomorrow. She would know it too.
Dr Aarambhi
Anupamaa
Sports
