JeeYa OS: Wait Kar Logi Mera Junior?

Jeet hadn’t been paying any mind to his surroundings lately, really. He was in his zone. He had been working on a customization project and had not really been aware of what all was going on around him. The new project he’d grabbed a few days ago was the only thing he was able to concentrate on.

With all the happenings around him, he was really falling behind in his savings. That was why he had taken up a new project. What with all the drama surrounding his life, he had to have a stable pool of savings to dive into.

Though he had received his Nani’s savings and insurance, he wanted to do something much more meaningful with that money than spend it on things like rent and food. He had that money invested and he was not yet ready to use that investment just yet.

His life had taken a turn for the worst when his Nani passed away and he decided to move into Saxena’s neighbourhood. He usually could pass a few months without new projects but the drama in his life had made him behind schedule as he hadn’t noticed the time pass.

Moreover, the Mathur’s now featured in his life much more than he would like. The family was now living with him, at least until they could find a better accommodation and a more importantly, a better reason, to leave the house they had built for over more than two decades. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe the gall of that disgusting child molester.

But at the end of the day, a criminal was just that, a criminal.

He wanted to shout at the Mathur Family to throw the guy in jail. That he wasn’t just a threat to their daughter, but Pihu also.

But then he remembered the words of the Mathur matriarch, words regressive enough to frustrate him, but also enough for him to force him to think of the consequences of such things coming out, especially for his Junior. They were all based in an old traditional city of Prayagraj. A city where people worshiped the Triveni Sangam and their rivers, Ganga, Yamuna and Saraswati, but no one actually respected the form these rivers took. No one actually respected the woman of this world.

He was frustrated to no end, but he could not actually blame her mother for thinking that way. May be, may be in the future, he at least believed it, Saumya would end up taking the final step that would lead to her uncle’s conviction.

But anyway, he was no one to butt into the Mathur’s problems anymore. He had been someone to Saumya for some time, but that was all he was and that was all the time they had for each other.

Now, now she had her father and her brother to offer her unconditional support. He had seen it himself. Now she had her best friend to be her shield. He had sicced Hridhaan onto her himself.

The fact of the matter was that his Junior no longer needed him.

He tried to be there for her whenever he recognised that she needed someone but could ask for no one, sometimes he would impose upon her, try to make her see that what was done, what step she took, was the best possible outcome of all that had transpired, and sometimes, when he could see her father being unable to talk to her due to guilt, he would end up making her understand her father’s thought process, but he did not think she had any more need for him.

She had people, people in the know, to protect her.

So, he slowly distanced himself from her.

Now their interactions included the strange salute she did for him as his Junior and her offerings of the Shakar-ke-Parathey to him as her Senior. Now they talked when they were about to clash on the stairs, or when her mother asked him to join them for food, or when he was hurt and she would ask him to get treated, or many such small moments where there were no more heart-to-hearts involved.

He always thought that she too was one of the chapters of the book of his life. Some character especially introduced in his book of life to teach him patience. That he was also one of the chapters of the book of her life. Some character that was needed for her to overcome a lifetime of trauma and make her value her family in her life.

He thought, at least when they finally reached at that phase of their relationship where there were no hard-hitting life lessons surrounding any conversations, that her chapter in his book and his chapter in her book had already ended.

His point was only reiterated when he heard the conversation between his Junior and her friends.

“Haan. Sach mein.”, he heard her say to her friends. Jeet was sitting behind her in the cafeteria. It wasn’t that she was unaware, she had saluted him and given him his own lunch box.

His ears perked up at the boy’s name.

One of her friends asked, “Toh, Laksh ne tumhe kaha library mein milne ke liye aur tum, bas, maan gayi?”

He could hear the shrug in her voice as she answered, “Haan. Debate competition do din mein hai. Aur humari tayyari hi nahi hui hai.”

Her other friend clicked her tongue, “Library mein debate competition ki tayyari kaha se hogi?”

And Jeet was impressed, he’d heard that Paankhi had appointed these two as her bodyguards and they were really doing their jobs well enough.

But his stupid Junior still answered, “Haan, toh aaj points ko batorenge and kal theatre mein practise karenge.”

Jeet really couldn’t understand why he was feeling so unwell when he heard these words. Maybe he was developing an allergy to sugar. He looked at the half-eaten Paratha and stuffed it in his mouth to stop himself from saying anything.

Her friends were way ahead of him anyway, “Oh, toh kal bhi uske saath theatre mein date hai.”

He heard his Junior start, “Haan, kal bhi hum mil rahe hai, woh---” and thank-god that she finally realised how it all sounded because she finally exclaimed, “---Date?”

Jeet chuckled in amusement, trust his little Junior to shout at the top of her voice such sensitive words.

He heard her vehemently deny it, “Date wate jaisa kuch nahi hai. Yeh Hindi Sahitya aur Unke Artho ke debate ki tayyari hai. Bus. Yeh vikat baatein karke mujhe vichlit karne ki koi aavashyakta nahi hai.”

And if only Jeet could understand half of the vocabulary she spoke in her Shudhh Hindi, then Jeet would have topped his language classes too.

Her friends continued teasing her, but he was done eating. He could feel the indigestion that was slowly arising within him because of her Parathas. The indigestion was definitely the reason why he banged the lunch box at her table as her eyes widened. She shrunk a little, as she usually did when someone was a little too loud around her. He felt a pang in his heart at her reaction and continued to blame it on the indigestion.

She saluted him again, and he waved his hand in reply.

If he rubbed his chest when he was turned away from her, he didn’t blame himself.

It was the stupid indigestion.

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The second time he heard the guy’s name, it was because he was near the guy and his friends. A bunch of college friends standing together was nothing new. A guy being teased by his friends was nothing new.

A guy being teased with his Junior, that was new.

He stopped, as soon as he heard his Junior’s name. When he heard that name again, Laksh, he knew it was the same guy that his Junior had a debate competition with. One they had won together, as a team.

While he was proud that his Junior was coming out of her shell, participating in debate competitions and speaking in public, with guys as her teammates, he was still wary. It was the sugar from the Shakar-ke-Parathey acting up again. He just knew it.

He should really be cutting back on those.

Then he heard it, “So, kabhi Saumya ko bhi batayega, ke bas aise hi, padhai ke chakkar mein dheere dheere se….”

Jeet never knew indigestion could make you feel this way. He was beginning to suspect something else. But first, he had to figure out what were Laksh’s intentions with his Junior.

Laksh, he assumed, sighed, “Kaha yaar. Ek baar baat nahi hui hai humari. Saumya ne debate competition ke baad ek Hi tak nahi kiya yaar.”

That caused Jeet to raise his eyebrows. His Junior really was stupid. She could not even read the signs that this guy liked her.

He sobered up when he realised what had made her this way. She was clueless because it was her first time in a college like this, and she wasn’t unaware but overly cautious. He realised that even if Laksh didn’t necessarily make her feel unsafe, he also didn’t succeed in making her feel safe.

He sighed and released a heavy breath.

As soon as he realised that this Laksh guy wasn’t a crisis, he felt lighter, his indigestion fading away.

He soon realised that his Junior too had guys that liked her. He knew, of course, about some of the feelings Hridhaan had for her, and now this Laksh guy too.

He just hoped that his Junior was able to handle all these new chapters life was about to open for her.

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Jeet was not an unreasonable guy with people unrelated to him. He never went out of the way to trouble people who had nothing to do with him. But if someone actively seek trouble with him, he had nothing else to give trouble.

That was what he was thinking when he was faced with the guy who had a crush on his Junior.

Laksh was not related to him, nor was he actively seeking trouble. He was just asking.

Whether Saumya and him were dating.

What.

He looked at the guy incredulously.

Just what had given anyone the idea that him and his Junior were even talking. What the f*ck kind of rumour mill was going on around this college?

He watched expectedly at Laksh, for an explanation, which he gave, after he gulped quite nervously, “Woh aapne hi kaha tha naa. Saumya meri girlfriend hai. And fir Saumya bhi toh aayi thi, aapka exam likhne. Isiliye…”

Ah yes, he remembered, he had done that. She too had done that.

He chuckled, unbothered by the indigestion at this point, “Woh sirf aise hi. Junior ki ragging ho rahi thi. Tabhi Shaurya ko daraane ke liye. Saumya meri girlfriend nahi hai.”

Laksh smiled, his joy spreading around his face, and thanked him.

He watched as he left and realised what that meant. It meant that Laksh’s crush was not merely a crush. He really liked her.

Jeet whistled, his Junior had a new admirer, one who liked her enough to talk to Jeet. He did not know how this chapter of her life would unfold. Whether she will actually consider liking a guy, whether it will be this guy or Hridhaan, or someone else.

But he hoped that she could find the joy of love. Of the things she has avoided all her life. He wished her the best of life, really.

If his stomach churned at the thought of all these guys around her, that was to be blamed at the indigestion caused by her Shakar-ke-Parathey.

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It all came to forefront again when Hridhaan found him to question him, “Kya Saumya kissi Laksh ko jaanti hai?”

Jeet had just reached home and was parking his Baby when he was accosted.

He raised his eyebrows in question, “Haan?”

Hridhaan nodded, looking away from him. He turned back to look at him and opened his mouth before closing it again. He cleared his throat and asked, “Kya Laksh aur Saumya…?”

He trailed off without asking the question, and Jeet raised his eyebrows. Jealousy wasn’t a good look on Hridhaan. He sighed and walked away from Hridhaan while he was still calling him.

Honestly, he did not know what was going on between his Junior and her newest admirer. But he was pretty sure his Junior too was unaware of why the guy she was once in a debate competition with was suddenly paying her so much attention.

He had seen her genuine confusion whenever he saw Laksh with her, always with a respectable distance between them, always talking about this Sahitya or that Kavita. He had no time, really, to tell her the guy was clearly trying to date her.

He was so not into college romance and explaining the workings of it.

To his Junior no less.

Whatever.

He had many things to do. Books to study. Bikes to customise. Father to irritate. Shakar-ke-Parathey to eat.

If only the indigestion would let him.

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The day he found out that his Junior could end up being someone else’s wife was the day Jeet threw up.

In his defence, he was already hungover. With all the indigestion cracking up within his body, he was bound to lose it.

It was this day, really.

The day he had come to know that he actually had a father and that father wanted nothing to do with him.

He had just turned eighteen, almost five years ago, when his mother had finally come clean to his age-old questions about his father.

On his eighteenth birthday, his mother told him that he had a father who had another family, another wife, other children.

It was important for context that Jeet was not always this hard person. He too, had a heart. He too, had loved people, made friends and lived his life with joy. Then his mother had left. And he’d grownup and found his father who wanted nothing to do with him, and he had to grow up in ways more than one.

The thing was, a kid without a father is bullied anyway. A kid unknown to his father and whose father is unknown to him, is bullied even more. Jeet had, over time, fought enough bullies to know what was said did not actually matter.

It was another thing when he knew his father and his father knew him and they still did not want anything to do with each other. His father basically threw money at him to get him out of his life.

That was his breaking point.

Since then, he has made it his life’s mission to hate and irritate and never forgive his father. If that has somehow made Jeet the way he was now, he wouldn’t be right to blame anyone.

However, Jeet was not a drunkard. It was this day, his birthday, that he drinks like he regrets everything.

So, imagine his surprise when there were two people sitting in the Angan of the Mathur house, to whom Saumya was serving what looked like tea. And then there he was, the man of the hour, Laksh.

When he heard the couple with Laksh ask the Mathur’s about Saumya’s marriage, he figured it out.

This guy was fast.

Moreover, this guy had parents that he could ask to intervene if he likes a girl and wants to marry her.

Something Jeet did not have.

Something Jeet will never have.

If he ever wanted someone to ask his Junior’s hand in marriage for him, he would only have himself.

That was what made him throw up.

He blamed the hangover.

And the realisation that he had no one in his life to ask for someone’s hand in marriage if he ever decides to marry someone.

And also, the realisation that he wanted someone to ask His Junior’s hand in marriage for himself.

Suddenly, the indigestion made sense.

Suddenly, he realised that what he was feeling was jealousy.

He was jealous.

Over His Junior.

Over Saumya.

He really needed that drink.

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The fact of the matter was that Jeet realised that he was not allowed to have these feelings for His Junior.

For Saumya.

Ever since her father had found about the despicable things his daughter has gone through, he has turned even more paranoid. He watched Jeet like a hawk. Sometimes, Jeet felt like a villain in his own house.

Whenever Saumya was around him, or she was saluting him, or offering him Shakar-ke-Parathey, Jeet had developed a habit of looking around for the doctor’s presence. Her father’s paranoia had turned him paranoid.

Ever since he had heard her father’s promise to be cautious of the boys around her after she had spoken up about her uncle, Jeet had turned cautious of the fact that he was a boy around this father’s daughter.

He had earned her father’s respect, minorly, but still, by fighting for his daughter. If he realised what Jeet felt for his daughter, Jeet feels that he would riot.

However, Jeet himself, still wasn’t clear on what he felt for Saumya.

Jealousy?

But jealousy is born out of already underlying feelings for the person.

Did he feel that he and Saumya were what, friends? Co-conspirators? Partners?

The pang he felt in his heart at that last word was indication enough that he wanted to be her partner. But in what capacity? The one thing Jeet had never been was stupid. He realised that he liked Saumya in some romantic capacity. The urge to protect her, first when she was always alone in a crowd, and then when she had her family to stand by her, had never changed. Even until now. The Shakar-ke-Parathey he ate only when she was the one offering, even though her mother had offered to make another batch for him almost every day, was proof enough that he wanted her attention on him. The fact that he listened to her when he was hurt, and she asked for him to get treated was enough to prove that her words matter to him. The fact that he still sometimes ended up encouraging her proved that he wanted the best for her.

The fact that he was jealous of Hridhaan and Laksh was raging red signal of his underlying feelings for her.

But Jeet has not felt anything like this for anyone.

This was new for him also.

Her father’s paranoia, the absence of a stable family presence in his life, the trauma surrounding him, the trauma surrounding her, all this led to the fact that they were not right for each other. She was timid, skittish, jumpy and small.

So small.

But also, she was strength, for she had endured. She was brave, for she always found the courage to stand for what was right. She was confident, for she always was smarter than necessary. She was large really, larger than life.

In what world would a girl like Saumya, who was a mixture of opposites, who was part of a good loving family, who was on the path of self-discovery, fall for someone like Jeet.

It was not that Jeet was underselling himself.

He had just learned the truth the hard way.

Five years ago, when his mother had told him about his father and left him with his Nani, on his birthday no less, he had realised that he would always have to fight the world for himself and his Nani, alone. Now that he didn’t even have his Nani, he was all alone in this world.

She deserved better, but more than that, she deserved what she wanted.

So, in this rarer occurrence, rare now that her life was kind of on track, he joined her at the terrace, joined her from as far away from her as he could make himself stay.

She noticed him, her eyes risen in question.

He shrugged, and gestured, as if to ask, “Aaj subah kya hua?”

She shook her head in annoyance, and replied non-verbally, “Laksh ke parents aaye the---“, she then intertwined her hands and gestured, “Shaadi ki baat karne.”

He chuckled, just as he had thought, and pointed at her, asking her without asking, “Toh tumne kya kaha?”

She shook her head, as if to negate everything, and shrugged, “Mana kardiya.”

Jeet raised his eyebrows, impressed, his hand raised in appreciation, “Waah Junior, mana kar diya?”

She nodded, extremely proud of herself, and replied, “Haan, mana kardiya. Woh Laksh mere type ka nahi hai.”

Jeet’s eyebrows raised even higher, incredulity at her brevity, and asked, still silent, “Toh kaun hai tumhare type ka---“, and he vaguely gestured a tall guy giving candy to her, as if to say, “Hridhaan?”

Her eyes widened in shock, similar to when he had accidently called Hridhaan her boyfriend when they still did not know one another, on this very terrace, and she negated it once again, this time silently, “Woh sirf mera dost hai.”

Jeet nodded, proud of His Junior for taking a stand for herself and saying no when she does not want to marry someone, and knowing what she feels for guys that clearly feel something for her.

He turned around, about to leave, when he suddenly heard her call out to him. He turned to look at her only to realise she was standing just behind him. He raised his eyebrows in question at the proximity when she held out a little box for him.

He looked up to eyes from the box, and she answered his unasked questions with four delicate words, words he hadn’t expected to hear from anyone this year, especially because his Nani, the one woman who would remember to wish him, passed away.

Her eyes twinkled as she said, “Happy Birthday, Jeet Sir.”

No extravagance, no party, no nonsense, but his heart felt like exploding. He knew his eyes were getting a little wet. He hadn’t expected this, especially after the day he had had. Especially after the things he had realised.

He replied, his throat suddenly parched, “Thank You Junior.”

She smiled and looked away. He continued looking at her.

She gazed into his eyes and said, with words now, “Waise mera type jaan na chahte hai?”

His eyebrows raised at the information she was willing to volunteer, “Oh, toh ab iss Junior ka type bhi hai.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away at the night sky. She took a deep breath, and answered her own question, “Ek aisa insaan jisse mein baat kar saku. Bole. Bina Bole. Joh meri sab baatein samajh jaaye. Jisse mein unki manpasand cheezein khila saku, chahe unhe who cheezein kahi aur se milne ka option kyun naa ho. Joh meri takleefein bina kuch bole hi samajh jaaye, but unhe suljhaane ki koshish naa kare, balki mujhe hi himmat de, apni musibaton ka saamna khud karne ki. Joh ek bheed mein bhi mujhe hi chune, aur jisse mein humesha chunu.”

And he knew she was talking about him. He knew that she was describing him. He knew it was him. She never talked to any other guys without talking with them. He was the only one she was feeding with Shakar-ke-Parathey even when her mother offered to make a separate batch for him. He knew that he was the only she had voluntarily shared her past with, and he was the only one who forced her to fight for herself. He knew he was the only one who would always keep choosing her in a crowd, because he felt for her and he also knew how she keeps choosing him. Every battle won, every fight fought, her catalyst had been him.

He looked away in the night sky, and he could see in his peripheral, her trying to meet his gaze, looking up at him because he refused to bend down to talk to her.

He cleared his throat, and ordered her, “Raat bahut ho gayi hai Junior. So jaao.”

He left her alone then, standing on the terrace, her almost confession now witnessed by the moon, carried by the wind and settled in his soul.

What could he do now when he did not deserve her, when she deserved better than him, but she wanted him and he needed her?

He placed the gift box she had handed him delicately on his study and sat down to open it. He chuckled at what she had given him.

There on his study, sat a keychain, of a little bike, of his Baby, the same as she was, only on the numberplate, instead of the number, Jeet’s Baby was engraved in a beautiful cursive.

His customised bike, His Baby, which he had built with his own hands after he had bought her, which she had threatened damage to and saved from falling, now had an exact miniature version of herself.

A note fell from the box, and he opened it, jittery after what she had said earlier. He unfolded it carefully, straightening it with almost a reverence and read what she had written.

Koi usse kya tohfa de jisse woh baaton se nahin jaanta,

Koi usse kya tohfa de jisse woh rooh se apna maanta,

Koi usse kya tohfa de jisse woh man se chahta,

Koi usse kya tohfa de jisse woh baaton se nahin jaanta.

Yeh tohfa uske liye jisse mera rooh apna manta,

Yeh tohfa uske liye jisse mera man sach mein chahta,

Yeh tohfa uske liye jisse mein chaahti hun jaanna.

He got up as soon as he read the last line. He got up so fast that the chair he was sitting on fell down. He rushed outside, hoping that he would still catch her, hoping she was still there, hoping she was waiting for him, hoping she would wait for him. Hoping she too felt that he wasn't just another chapter in the book of her life. Hoping she realised that she could never be just another chapter in the book of his life.

And there she was. Still gazing at the night sky.

He took a deep breath.

She was still there.

He did not need to run.

She was waiting for him.

He stood beside her, watching the night sky, and then her.

She knew he was here, standing right beside her, not touching her, not saying anything, just looking at her.

Was she always meant to be like this?

She was.

He was.

He took a deep breath, looked away from her and mustered up the courage to ask the question rearing in his head, “Wait kar logi mera, Junior?”

He heard a light chuckle and turned to look at her to realise she was already looking at him. She gestured for him to lean down, and he did, their gazes locked on one another.

She smiled, and answered, “Wohi toh kar rahi hun, Sir.”

And it felt like he had been carrying around a heavy weight all this time and her answer had finally made him let that weight go.

He was already waiting for her.

Until she was ready.

She would wait for him.

Until he was ready.