JeeYa SS: Faith. Belief. Love. (Part 2 & 3 - Page 1) (Completed)

Faith

It was raining.

That was the first thing that caught Saumya’s attention.

It was raining.

Rain was weird. Sometimes, sometimes Saumya believed that rain came for her at the most importunate times. That it solely came for her when she was already feeling down and defeated. That it was rain that was responsible for the worst of times of her life.

She knew she was wrong.

She could even be called childish.

But whenever it rained, Saumya always knew something bad was going to happen. Or maybe it was the other way around. As soon as something bad happened, rain followed.

It wasn’t always like this.

Saumya wasn’t always terrified of rain.

Saumya used to love rain.

But then, one day, one day rain washed away all the evidence of all the bad things that happened and she began hating it. She began hating the rain that used to bring her joy. She began hating rain that brought music. She began hating rain that brought laughter.

Saumya began hating the rain she loved.

It was supposed to rain that day. She knew. Her father had warned her to carry an umbrella for school that day. Her mother had insisted that she come home by rickshaw and not on the bicycle lest she be caught in the rain and catch a cold. Her aunt had promised Pakodas with the Chai in the evening.

Her uncle had promised that they would go to the park to listen to the song earth sang when it was showered by the rain.

The day she began hating the rain she loved, it was supposed to rain.

Unlike that day, when Saumya had poured out her heart over to him, the day she had found the courage to let rain shower upon herself again, she had known it would rain. She was stupid then, to assume that nothing bad would happen because it would not rain upon her, because she would stay inside her home.

She had left because she did not want rain to wash away evidence off of another little girl. She had left because even if it may rain upon her, no other girl would ever fall victim to the harsh rain that had destroyed her life. She had left the inside of her own hell, so that no other little girl could ever enter her own hell.

The day she began loving the rain she hated, it wasn’t supposed to rain.

There was no prediction of rain. No weather forecast warning people of rain. No one to ask her to carry an umbrella, no one to ask her to travel by rickshaw and no one to make Pakodas and Chai. It wasn’t supposed to rain.

Saumya stupidly assumed that nothing bad would happen.

It did happen. He ended up shouting at her father. He ended up thrashing some low life thugs in a hospital. He ended up fighting her, not talking to her, not even looking at her.

The day had just begun. It was a couple hours past midnight. So much had happened already.

The one thing that kept circling her mind was her brother’s question.

“Kya Papa ke mana kar dene par tum Jeet se dur reh paaogi?”

It was an insane question, an insane assumption on her brother’s part, it was unimaginable, a world in which Saumya would depend upon him this much that she would even defy her own father.

Her father was her idol. Someone she looked up to. Someone who has always stood by her. Someone who has always taken care of her. Someone who has always loved her.

Her father was her faith.

She never has questioned him.

The amount of faith Saumya places in her father was not a small thing. His decisions, his reasons and his actions, all came from a place of care and love. For her.

She knew that. She had faith in that.

When he had challenged her father’s decisions, his reasons and his actions, Saumya had felt like he was challenging her faith. She felt betrayed, he understood her, to her core, sometimes in a way she never seemed to understand herself. His challenge to her father was like a personal attack that was meant to hurt her more than her father.

It felt like it was meant to make her challenge her faith.

Faith wasn’t meant to be challenged.

Rain wasn’t supposed to fall.

It was.

It was raining and she was crying to herself in a corner of the terrace that has always felt like hers. Even after he began living there.

She took a deep breath.

She hadn’t seen him since she had told him off for challenging her father.

She didn’t want to, but she was worried, oh so worried for him.

It was her worry for him that made her look for his social media profile, hoping from any update from over there so that she could breathe again. It was the confetti and the balloons that greeted her when she clicked on his profile that clenched a fist around her heart.

“Wish Jeet a Happy Birthday!” the glowing screen asked of her, and she felt devastated.

It wasn’t supposed to rain.

Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Nothing bad was supposed to happen with him.

Nothing bad should’ve happened to him on his birthday.

She had ruined his birthday.

A silent sob shook her body as she began towards the door, once again, in the dead of the night, this time not for her father, but for him. She had to fix this. They shouldn’t be fighting on what was supposed to be a good day.

A sunny, happy and delightful day for the person who had entered her life and changed it for the better.

It wasn’t supposed to be such rainy, gloomy and an unhappy day for the person who had made her a version of herself she strived to be every single day.

As she crossed the threshold of her home a thunder cracked in the night sky, the sound followed soon, shaking her, making her flinch and unable to take any step further. She looked up, the rain was still relentless, and she did not know where she could find him.

She took a deep breath, unable to see anything in the rain yet still looking for any traces she could use to find him. He hadn’t left too long ago, she had seen from the terrace in the direction he had left in, and walked in that direction, the torch on her phone her guiding light.

She didn’t have to walk for too long to find him.

He was just outside their neighbourhood.

Like he too wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go if not here.

She didn’t take it for granted. She knew he had places he could go to. Places he could not call home, but place he could find a temporary abode in. Places that were much better than the company she could provide him. Places that did not have people that hated him and shouted at him and asked him to be grateful or to apologise to people he did not want to do those things for.

Places that where not anywhere near her.

He placed her before she could speak.

Like always.

He looked away from her, still angry, still disappointed at her.

Well, she was angry at him too. She was disappointed by him too.

She would have to let go of those things, even if it was just for today, because it was his birthday today.

She could go back to being angry tomorrow.

Just for today, just for today, she would not be angry, she would not expect apology, she would not try to stay away from him. Just for today, she promised herself.

We’ll see, whispered her traitorous heart.

She moved towards him, glad that he didn’t move away.

“Sir,” she took a step closer to him, her voice trying and failing to be heard over the rain, yet he looked at her, a whisper enough for him to listen to his Junior, “aapke jeevan ki iss nayi baras gaath par aapko hardik shubkaamnayein.”

“Hein?” he asked, incredulity ridiculously handsome on his face, before he raised his eyebrows and shook his head, looking away from her, he said, “Dekho Junior, pehle hi tumne mere dimaag ka dahi banake rakha hua hai. Ab ye nayi baklol baatein naa karo mujhse.”

She looked at him like he was stupid for not understanding her and he looked at her like she was stupid for expecting him to understand Shuddh Hindi at two in the morning.

She looked at him, taking a deep breath, and said again, “Happy Birthday Sir.”

His gaze found her in shock of her wish, making her wish that she hadn’t said anything. He was so surprised that no words came out of his mouth as he moved to speak. He looked away, and looked at her again, the sound of rain hiding whatever sound he made as he shook. She looked at him worried, scared, that she, Saumya, was capable of rendering him, Jeet Sir, speechless.

She waited, and she waited, but he didn’t say anything.

The final time he looked away from her, she scoffed, murmuring under her breath as the sound of rain washed away her words before they could reach him, “Iske liye bhi Thank You nahi bolenge ab.”

They were drenched in rain, from head to toe. She was five minutes away from shivering in her own skin. She wanted to be angry, at his non-response, she wanted to thrash him, for not even looking at her after she wished him, but she wasn’t.

He had slowly become so important to her.

She never wanted to hurt him.

His scoff brought back her attention to him.

He looked at her and leaned down, unshed tears unhidden despite the rain, “Maine kabhi socha nahi tha Junior, ke iss saal mujhe koi Birthday wish bhi Karega.”

He looked away, sniffing, the rain doing its job of washing away any evidence of his crying perfectly as he continued, “But kismat toh dekho. Pehle Bapuji aur ab tum bhi Junior.”

He looked at her, “Itne logon ne toh mujhe last year bhi wish nahi kiya tha.”

The way he said Bapuji, like it was a curse word and not a word that should be used to call a person who was your father, who you were supposed to love, and who was supposed to love you, made Saumya realise that something was very wrong.

That this rain had followed a particularly bad day for him too.

Nothing good ever came when he and his father talked.

She moved in front of him, forcing him to look at her, forcing him to face her, forcing herself, to understand, what he wasn’t saying. It worked, it worked for one moment exactly, for a moment he looked at her, for a moment he let her look at him, and then, then they faced away from one another once again.

Her heart hurt as she heard his sigh, loud enough to silence the rain.

He looked the opposite of his name today.

Defeated.

“Aapne kaha tha---”, she began, unsure where she was heading with this, but not wanting to see him hurt anymore, “ke apne andar ke acid ko bahar nikalo, toh mein yahi hun.”

He turned a little, looking at her, and she met his gaze, “Mein yahi hun, nikaal dijiye apna acid.”

He snorted, “Tum nahi samjhogi Junior.”

She argued, “Toh aap samjhayiye naa Sir.”

He shouted, “Arrey nahi samjhana hai mujhe. Kyun samjhaao tumhe? Kyun apna bhoj tumpe daalun? Tumhari life mein kya kam pareshani hai joh meri pareshaaniyan samajhna chahti ho?”

She did not back off, she did not flinch, she did not cower, not in front of him, never in front of him, not anymore, she held her place, she met his gaze and she answered, “Kyunki aap zaroori hai mere liye. Aap ke saath kuch hota hai toh fikr hoti hai mujhe aap ki. Aap kuch kehte hain toh mein sunti hun aap ki.”

He laughed, “Meri? Meri fikr? Meri baatein? Tab kaha thi meri fikr jab tumhara baap mujhe sunaaye jaa raha tha, jab woh mujhe galat bol raha tha? Jab koi meri baat nahi sun raha tha?”

Saumya cried, “Wahi thi mein. Khadi thi mein. Aap ki galat baat ko galat bolte waqt aap hi ke pass ruki thi mein. Papa ke mana karne ke bawajood aap ke saamne khadi thi. Aap se ladh rahi thi. Aap se request kar rahi thi. Aap ko aur kuch galat bol ne se rok rahi thi. Ek baar sochiye, kya aapko sach mein lagta hai ki jiss tarah se aap ne mere Papa se baat ki, kya woh sahi tha?”

He raised his hand, his finger pointing at their home behind them when he explained, “Kya meine joh kuch bhi kaha woh galat tha? Kya tumhe sach mein lagta hai ki unka tumhari shaadi karwane ka decision sahi tha? Kya tum abhi shaadi karna bhi chahti ho?”

The thing was, that somewhere inside her, she knew he wasn’t wrong. He had said what she sometimes ended up thinking. She felt that in wanting her to leave the shadow of her past, her father was pushing her to a future she still remained uncertain of.

But the reason she had wanted him to apologise was because her father was hurt because of him. A simple apology could fix everything. She said sorry so easily that it had lost its meaning, that its meaning was no longer her regret, but her need to appease. She also realised that he never said sorry because he never regretted anything he did and he would never easily say it just to appease to someone.

She took a deep breath. This was going nowhere. She knew he wouldn’t apologise for what he didn’t regret. She knew she wasn’t going to stop asking just to appease her father. She had done it since she was a child. She would do it until her father was old.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t and she needed to realise that she had no right to ask him for it.

And that was what she said, “Mein kya chahti hun, mujhe kya chahiye, iss cheez ne kabhi aap ke liye matter bhi kiya hai Sir? Mera kya haq hai, aap se kuch maangne ka, aap se baat karne ka, aap ki baat sunne ka. Aap ne do baar utsah kya dediya, mein toh aap ke utsah pe nirbhar hogayi. Aap ne do baatein kya maan li, meri toh umeed hi ho gayi, ki aap meri sab baatein maanenge. Meine aap se apne do dukh kya baat liye, mujhe lagne laga ke aap bhi apna dukh mere saath baat lenge.”

Few tears slid from her eyes as she tried to wipe her face. This was the whole point. They had their roles in this relationship. She was supposed to be the one to depend on him. She was supposed to be the one who would end up needing his help. He was supposed to be needed, and she was supposed to be needing him.

It couldn’t be opposite.

He would never listen to her. He would never need her motivation. He would never need her.

Except he had.

He had listened to her when she had asked him not to fight. He had needed her motivation when he had been fighting against the world alone, without anyone by his side.

He had needed her when he was alone and defeated and hurt and stubborn.

He had never wanted her.

She wanted him.

She wanted him to want her.

He would never.

He wouldn’t let himself.

His whole shtick of being alone, of being by himself without anyone’s help relied on his ability to not want for things for himself. Once he lets himself want for her, he wouldn’t be able to be alone, he wouldn’t be able to be self-reliant. He wouldn’t be able to be by himself.

She understood him.

She wanted him to understand that she understood him too.

He looked struck by what she had said. His eyes widened at her words, his stubborn gaze relenting under her crying one. He took a deep breath, and began, “Bapuji…”

He trailed off, and she understood. His father, the only person capable enough to really hurt him, had hurt him, inexplicably, on the one day he wasn’t supposed to. He had hurt him enough to make him angry, angry enough that he had lashed out, that he fought, that he was hurting himself.

A parent’s harsh words were much hurtful than any pain a fight can bring about.

Oh, how she wanted to touch him. How she wanted to comfort him. How she wanted to be able to be there for him in his pain.

Saumya couldn’t do anything.

Just then they heard a commotion. Saumya didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but she noticed him. She noticed how he glanced over all of their surroundings, how he made sure that the commotion wasn’t from behind them, wasn’t from the houses in their neighbourhood. She watched as his shoulders relaxed when it was from front of them.

It wasn’t anything, really, a group of ten or so people chanting “Ganpati Bappa! Maurya!” as they pulled a chariot with a Ganesh Idol on top it, his face hidden by a red cloth.

It was Ganesh Chathurti.

That explained the unpredictable, wasn’t supposed to but still falling, rain.

It always rained when people welcomed and said goodbye to Ganpati.

He moved in front of her, blocking her from the view of the people, people who were welcoming Ganpati into their homes. He stood in front of her, a wall, stubborn and protective in the same breath.

She chuckled as those people passed by them without stopping, all fanfare and celebration.

He turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised in question at her.

She shook her head, her eyes following the Ganpati procession, and answered, “Sahyog ki baat hai Sir.”

His eyebrows raised further in question, and she looked up at the rain falling on them, finally able to connect it to a happy thing, she spoke, “Ek woh Vighnaharta ka Janmadin hai joh saari duniya ke vighna harta hai aur ek mere Vighnaharta ka birthday hai, jinhone mere jeevan mein aane se hi mere saare vighno ko hara diya hai.”

She met his gaze, smiling, grateful for him, she continued, “Aap mere liye ek shagun ke sikke jaise hai, ek saubhagya jaise, jis ke aane ki mubarak mein jeevan bhar manaungi.”

She watched as his eyes once again filled with tears. The rain still did an awesome job of washing away the evidence of the sins of those who hurt them, but this rain was an auspicious one.

A rain that was not predicted, it came because it was welcoming Ganpati. It came because it was welcoming him into her life.

A rain that did not come because it was supposed to hide away sins, it was the rain that come because of people’s faith.

Faith in their God.

Faith that their idol would help them solve all their problems.

Faith that he would continue to help solve all her problems.

Faith that he would allow her to help solve some of his problems.

Faith that he would allow himself to want her as she wanted him.

It hadn’t been wrong of him, to challenge her faith on her father. She knew that her father was not perfect, but he was her father, and she owed her everything to him.

But as she grew, as she learned, as she understood and as she realised, she knew that her faith was not everlasting.

In fact, her faith was changing, and it was changing to him.

The day she began loving rain again was the day she felt her faith shift.

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT DEAR!!!

It was such an emotional piece, literally my eyes are all teary.

How awfully I wanted for Jeet to be loved and valued, he deserves it yaar.

May Soumya care for him like this.

Amen

BTW how should I address you dear?

Originally posted by: Blackrose92

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT DEAR!!!

It was such an emotional piece, literally my eyes are all teary.

How awfully I wanted for Jeet to be loved and valued, he deserves it yaar.

May Soumya care for him like this.

Amen

BTW how should I address you dear?

Hey, Rose (is it okay if i call you that?), you can call me Komal.

Thank you for the reply and liking my work.

Originally posted by: komaliyaaa

Hey, Rose (is it okay if i call you that?), you can call me Komal.

Thank you for the reply and liking my work.

And most welcome do write more like this will be waiting for your update

Belief

Saumya had once believed herself to be invincible. She had believed that her family too, was invincible. That her bond with her family was invincible. That she had the perfect family there ever could be.

Later, she had realised that only one member of their family was truly invincible.

The odds were never in his favour, he was blind, he could not see, he was disabled, yet he had successfully oppressed two grown ladies and abused one little girl in his own home. After that, he had successfully suppressed the two other men in his household by holding her weaknesses over their heads.

Roop Mathur, she had believed once, was invincible in that everyone would always believe him.

Jeet Sir never did.

The first time he realised that Roop Mathur was responsible for the life Saumya had pushed herself into, he had seemed more invincible than anyone she has ever seen.

Then her father believed her, defended her, helped her and stood by her and Saumya's inner child, that had always wanted to tell her father everything, once again believed that he was the most invincible man in the world.

The relief, the pride, the confidence she had felt when her father had believed her had stroked the head of the inner child Saumya never let out of the cage again.

She believed that Saumya, the happy, the youthful, the confident, the bold Saumya, needed to be protected at all costs. That she was not ready for what this world had in store of her. That her inner child did not deserve how cruel and unworthy this world was, so Saumya had locked her away when she had caught a glimpse of how this world could bring her ruin.

She did not realise that Saumya had locked away her real self and now her real self wasn't ready to come out of her cage. Saumya had no control whatsoever over if that Saumya wanted to stay or leave that cage.

Saumya also believed many other things. She believed that a husband like her father would solve all her problems. She believed that her brother was a little stupid for hoping for a love story. She believed that Hridhaan and Paankhi were her best friends. She believed that they would always be good friends and that they would always have each other to lean on.

She believed that her Jeet Sir would always show her the right way and support her on that way.

Her belief in many things was shaken when she came to know that Hridhaan's mother had come for a marriage alliance between her and Hridhaan.

Her belief in her friendship with Hridhaan was shaken when she came to know of his feelings for her.

Her belief in her father was shaken when he agreed to the alliance even when Jeet Sir had said all those things that she somewhere inside her, she agreed with.

Her belief in her Jeet Sir was shaken when he motivated her to go for it and marry his half-brother.

How could Hridhaan so easily change their friendship to a relationship? Since when was he in love with her? Why couldn't she realise his feelings earlier and distance herself from him? How could his entire family know of his feelings, how could Paankhi know of his feelings and not tell her anything?

How could Hridhaan hide something this big from her when he knew her biggest secret?

How could her father agree to another marriage alliance so quickly after the fiasco that was the last one? How could her father, after hearing what all Jeet Sir had said that day, and still be set in his ways to marry her off to the next guy that welcomes her with open arms? How could her father, who knew how uncomfortable she was with guys, still, expect her to accept Hridhaan and his touch just because he was one of her best friends?

Was she supposed to go through everything again just because the guy this time was supposed to be her friend?

And for that matter, how could Hridhaan betray her like this by harbouring feeling like these when all she had ever hoped and expected for were friendship?

Was her choice supposed to matter?

After last time, later, when all was said and done, she had asked herself why no had asked her what she wanted from a marriage?

Someone had, her heart whispered again, traitorous by nature nowadays, straying towards someone who never listened to it.

And Jeet Sir.

How had he even dared to motivate her to get married to Hridhaan?

His righteousness when he had said, "Toh kar lo naa Shaadi Junior. Hridhaan achha ladka hai. Baaki ladkon ki tarah nahi, tumse pyaar bhi karta hai. Toh problem kya hai?", had grated on her nerves.

Hridhaan was a nice guy. Good looking too. One of her best friends in the whole world. Someone who had stood by her in many instances in her life. Someone who had known her since she was a child. Someone who knew her dreams and her love for her family.

Someone who had expectations of her.

Someone who had expectations of the inner child Saumya kept locked away, the one Saumya herself locked away.

Sometimes, many times, Hridhaan would turn and look at her and look away from her in disappointment and Saumya would feel like shit because she would realise that the Saumya Hridhaan was looking for was locked away by her a long time ago. That the Saumya he always hoped to find when he looked for her has mostly faded away, only a shadow of her remained in that cage that Saumya kept her locked in.

That the Saumya he wanted was not the Saumya she was.

Moreover, which version of Sant-Jeet-Ke-Dohe was she supposed to take seriously, the one where he was scolding her father for marrying her off to the first guy that wanted her or the one where it was okay for her father for marrying her off to the second guy that wanted her just because he was a good guy, a friend, someone she knew and someone she wasn't scared in the vicinity of.

Was she supposed to feel grateful that someone wanted to marry her?

Did her choice even matter?

She did not want to marry Hridhaan. She knew she did not want to marry Hridhaan.

She did not want to marry someone who she had always thought of as a friend. She did not want to marry someone who always looked at her like he was expecting to see someone else, someone she wasn't anymore. She did not want to marry someone whose family had the capacity to really hurt someone. She did not want to marry someone whose family did not even let them breathe in any other direction than the one they wanted.

She did not want to marry someone whose family had the capability to hurt him and who regularly made it their personal mission to hurt him frequently.

Her Jeet Sir.

But she would.

She ultimately would.

Because he wanted her to.

Because her father asked her to.

She would do many things for him and all things for her father.

What was marriage?

Her brother had first laughed at her predicament and then teased, "Papa ne khatarnak plan banaya hai tumhe Jeet Bro se dur karne ka. Woh ghar mein na Jeet Bro khud jaayenge, naa who ghar wale Jeet Bro ko kabhi ghar bulaenge."

And that, that one sentence from her stupid brother had stayed in her mind.

That family was not his. His family was not those people. He wanted nothing to do with that family. Especially his father, especially after whatever took place between him and his father on his birthday.

He stopped seeking out his father after his birthday. He stopped making scenes and he stopped pursuing his father's attention. He never stopped talking to Hridhaan, but he was ever more careful. Once she had seen him site classes in the middle of coaching and seen Hridhaan's mother entering the field just as he exited.

How could she marry into a family he wasn't even welcomed in?

Later, much later, she would realise that he wouldn't be welcomed in any family she would marry into, unless she was marrying him. But that would be much later.

But mostly, she was disappointed by him. She had assumed that he would respect her choices, that he would support her unsaid wishes, that he would realise her unwanted desires, that he would understand her unrealised feelings.

Because she was feeling many feelings and she had many desires and her wishes were starting to matter to her.

"Toh aap keh rahe hai," she had responded to his reasoning, "---ki Hridhaan ek achha ladka hai, baaki ladkon ki tarah nahi hai aur mujhse pyaar karta hai, isiliye mein usse shaadi kar lun?"

He had nodded, seriously, and she had asked, incredulously, "Isme aap ko koi problem nahi dikh rahi hai?"

She had scoffed when he had shrugged. She believed he wasn't that dumb.

She believed that this was all about not wanting her for him.

She believed he truly wished to push her away from him.

What better way to encourage her to marry the one man whose family he would never actively seek out.

It was that day Saumya had decided that she would believe in fate to play her game.

It was today that Saumya decided that it wasn't fate's job to play Saumya's life.

It was Saumya's.

Hridhaan's father was always against the alliance. He was a gullible old man who loved a son he was never meant to have but too much of a coward to give up. He was a mean father to the children he did raise and was stupid to treat them as his property rather than his children. He was easily manipulated by the one person who was set to destroy Saumya's life as he hadn't already before.

He had burst into the living room of the Saxena Home, where Saumya stood in a yellow saree, her head covered by a red "Shagun-ki-Chunri", and he had begun shouting accusations at every single member of the Mathur household.

He had scorned her, called her a gold digger and called her parents opportunists. He had accused her parents of wanting to marry her off to Hridhaan because it was impossible for her to find a better match than him.

Jeet Sir had not been there yet, he had arrived soon after he had seen his father storm inside his own home after she assumed, talking to Roop Mathur of all the people in the world.

He had been there to hear his father accuse her of first trying to seduce his other son, and when that had failed, she had to set her sights on Hridhaan.

"Ek bete ke saath Rishta nahi bana paai," he said, as she looked at Jeet Sir, his face a mix of agony and happiness, his agony at his father's accusation at her, and his happiness at being acknowledged as a son by his father, "toh dusre bete se shaadi karne ke liye maan gayi."

Something had broken inside of Saumya then.

This always happened. Her uncle was out to get her and for her to get married she had to fracture her belief of her uncle's invincibility. She had calmly taken off the "Shagun-ki-Chunri" from her head, and handed it to Hridhaan, not an inch of contact between their skins.

She had looked up at him, his eyes full of apology, his steps forward to stop his father but he was unable to. She had perfected a look of apology of herself too, not saying anything to him.

Instead, she moved towards his mother, and she took off the bangles she had put on her wrists. She placed the bangles in the jewellery box she still held and backed away from the mother-son duo to face his father.

She looked at him, in the eyes, defending herself, feeling the kind of invincible she believed herself to be.

She pointed out, "Pehli baat, shaadi ka Rishta hum nahi leke aaye the. Aap ki family leke aayi thi. Tab, jab mera Rishta kissi aur se ho raha tha."

She took a deep breath and continued, "Dusri baat, aapka beta mujhse pyaar karta hai. Main sirf usse apna dost maanti hun. Mere Maa aur Papa ne yeh rishte ke liye haan sirf isiliye kaha kyunki Hridhaan mera dost hai."

She looked at him first, her Jeet Sir, before her gaze moved back to his father, "Teesri baat. Uncle, aap mein himmat hogi, apne rishton ko thukra kar naye rishte banakar, unke natijo ko thukrane ki, par mujh mein nahi hai. Ek bete ke saath kya, mera aap ke dono beton se koi Rishta nahi hai, aur waisa toh bilkul nahi hai jaisa aap bata rahe hai."

With that said, with his father's face twisted as if he had just bit a lemon, she moved towards the exit of the Saxena Home. She did not want to be here. She never wanted to be here. She did not care one inch to be there.

His soft call for her, his "Junior", him, made her stop again.

She looked at him, his gaze lowered in an apology he would never speak, could never speak. An apology she would never let him speak, because this, this was not his fault. His father's choices, his father's words, his father, was not his fault.

His only fault was the one he didn't even realise.

She looked at him, and he still did not look ather.

She smiled sadly, and whispered, "Toh kar lo naa Shaadi Junior. Hridhaan achha ladka hai. Baaki ladkon ki tarah nahi, tumse pyaar bhi karta hai. Toh problem kya hai?"

He looked up at her, and she looked away from him, at the people who stood in the living room, watching them as they stood at the entrance of their home. It wouldn't take much time, before her father would drag her away from him, before her mother would support him, before Krish would ask her questions she would never have the answer too. It wouldn't be long before his father's family would throw accusations at him, and then throw him out of the house he was not welcome in.

Her gaze met Hridhaan's and she felt sorry, sorry for his heartbreak, sorry for the love he had to give but she couldn't receive. But she felt sorry for herself more than she felt sorry for him.

She looked at Hridhaan's mother, the anger clear on her face, her misconception at her and Jeet Sir's relationship stronger than ever and she chuckled.

She chuckled as a teardrop slid from her eyes, she met his gaze and answered his question, "Problem yeh hai Sir ke iss baar bhi kissi ne yeh nahi pucha, ke Saumya tum kya chahti ho? Kya tum Hridhaan se shaadi karna chahti ho? Kya tumhe woh pasand hai? Kya tum usse pyaar karti ho?"

She sniffed, "Problem yeh hai Sir, ke meine Papa aur Maa se toh yahi expect kiya tha, par iss baar aap ne bhi nahi pucha ki mujhe kya chahiye. Iss baar aap ko bhi, Maa aur Papa ki tarah, mujhe set karna tha."

He looked away from her, down at his feet, and she leaned down this time, looking for his eyes, as he often did for her, and laughed sarcastically when she found them, "Yaa fir niptaana tha?"

He looked dumbstruck by her.

She shook her head as she walked out of the house.

Her gaze set on the house opposite, her uncle standing at the helm of the threshold, smiling evilly, like some of his grand plan had turned successful.

She believed it had.

He did not want her to marry. She was not marrying. He wanted to torture her. She was being tortured. He did not want her happy. She certainly was not happy.

He did not want the old Saumya back.

Too bad she was stepping out of the cage.

The old inner child Saumya that believed herself to be invincible was slowly stepping out of her cage and her uncle could do nothing about.

Many of her beliefs shattered in the past week where she was almost set to marry her childhood best friend. Her belief that her family was invincible had shattered long ago, her belief that her father was invincible was shattering one piece at a time, as and when he failed to support her and not the life he wanted for her, her belief that Jeet Sir would always show her the right way and support her as she walked that way shattered when she realised that he would do that as long as she wasn't a threat to his system.

A threat to his self-reliance, a threat to his loneliness, a threat to his need of not needing anyone, a threat to his want of not wanting anyone. As long as no on threatened any of it, he would not try to distance himself from them.

As soon as she had become more, when she had thanked him for coming into her life and being her luck in this life, he had backed off of her.

Subtly, gently, stubbornly.

But her belief, the belief she had herself shattered a long time ago, the belief that she was invincible was on the mend now.

She would carve herself, if needed, to be invincible.

In face of threats, known and unknown, she would try to stay strong, try to not waiver and try to be what she wanted to be.

She would not be the same as she was, as her best friend wanted her to be.

She would not be the silence her mother urged of her.

She would not be obedience her father expected of her.

She would not be only strong and capable he was teaching her to be.

She would be what she believed herself to be, invincible, and undeniable.

She would be Saumya.

Love

In her childhood, Saumya's mother had tried often to tell them fairytales and folklores and mythological stories with love as the main feature. Saumya had never bought into it much. All love stories had sacrifice, and she did not understand how anyone could let go of someone they loved. Her mother had explained then, that sometimes, a great love meant sacrifice.

For a long time, she had thought her brother had taken away her romantic gene in the womb.

Then she read it, the story of Icarus flying too close to the sun, loving the feeling of flying close to the warmth the sun provided. He flew so close to the sun that his wings burned, and he couldn't fly anymore and he died drowning in the sea, but for that one moment, the moment before he crashed and burned, he was happy. He was warm and he had everything he wanted, and he was happy.

That was more romantic than any of the stories she had ever heard. Crashing and burning and dying but not wanting to give up the feeling of being close to the one you love.

How could noble sacrifice ever measure up to the passionate possessiveness of the love that wasn't supposed to be given away.

She hadn't known then that there are ways other than flying too close to sun to crash and burn.

Life taught her.

She often wondered, after everything had happened, how she would have been had she had the capability of falling in love. Would she be the stupid sacrificial type or the passionate possessive type? Would she let the person she loved walk away from her when she felt like he deserved better than her or would she be a possessive person and would give up everything too just keep him in her life?

Saumya would never know.

Or so she thought.

The thing about Saumya was that she had always felt jealous of other girls. The comfort with which they could interact with guys, the casual way they could wear whatever they want, the ease with which they could touch anyone, the normal life they could lead.

It was an undercurrent underlying jealousy that barely even registered to her.

At first, Saumya did not even realise that she wasn't actually jealous of the girls because of the way they carried themselves. No, at first Saumya chalked it all to her casual jealousy.

She watched as he shared a cup of coffee with a parade of girls.

She watched as he shared a cup of coffee with her.

Dabangg Reva.

She still remembered the ease with which he interacted with Reva. Confident, bold, cool and Dabangg Reva.

Then she fumed as Reva when she announced that the girl to score most goals in the tournament would have the chance to go on a second date with him.

What right did she have, to announce this? Who gave her the right to pimp him out for something as insignificant as goals in a hockey match?

She watched as Jeet Sir protested but ended up listening to her in the end.

It was like a beast growled within Saumya.

She thought he only listened to her. Turns out he listens to every girl he talked to.

His reluctance was clear on his face, but his damn mouth agreed to the condition readily.

She wished he could stand up for himself as he stood up for her.

Then too, she was stupid not to realise that she wasn't jealous of Reva, but she was jealous because of her Jeet Sir.

She wanted to wrap him up and protect him and his Jawaani from all these girls who wanted him.

But she knew he did not want her.

At the end of the day, he had stopped talking to her, stopped listening to her and stopped looking at her. From the day she had thrown his own words in his face at the threshold of the Saxena Home, he has not uttered a single word to her.

How could he, she thought, manage to do that when they lived in the same house, on the same floor, when they attended the same college, where he coached her hockey team?

He could always do something he had decided to do, she answered her own question.

With that an idea began forming in her head, an idea that would be impossible to achieve at her current level, without his help.

It was simple really, she just had to score the most goals in the match.

Then it would be his choice, she decided.

He could be free of a date then, she decided.

Or he could go on one with her, her mind whispered again, quite traitorous now, in its nature.

There was just one problem now, she was shit at hockey.

What she was good at, was when she was determined to do something.

She immediately put a plan to focus. The first step was that she would train, hard.

She didn't factor in that she would have to interact with Hridhaan, and by default, his now fiancé once again, Reva.

Hridhaan was totally normal after their Rishta didn't work out. He was not.

He walked on eggshells around her.

He made her already nervous self even more nervous.

That was when Reva came in, all knowing glances and teasing voices and funny actions. She was perceptive. She knew exactly what Saumya was doing without Saumya saying a single word.

Reva had an eyebrow permanently raised at Saumya's antics.

Saumya let them pass, until one day Reva sought her out ahead of the practise.

She practically cornered Saumya and stated, like she was an all-knowing being, "Yeh sab practise, tumhare Jeet Sir ke saath date pe jaane ke liye?"

She wiggled her eyebrow, rendering Saumya speechless.

Reva sighed, and answered her question herself, "Haan haan, mujhe pata hai. Yeh sab tum jeet ke liye nahi kar rahi ho. Waghaira-waghaira..."

And before Saumya could say something, she was already leaving her.

However, Saumya, Saumya was dying to tell someone about her plan, someone who could help her, someone, that was not him, so she blurted out, "Yeh sab Jeet Sir ke liye hi kar rahi hun."

Reva stopped, turned around, shocked. She looked, and Saumya continued, "Jeet Sir ko date pe jaana pasand nahi hai. Aur Jeet Sir ab mujhse baat nahi karte. Toh agar mein yeh competition jeet gayi, toh Jeet Sir ko date pe nahi jaana padhega, kyunki mein---"

"Kabhi unke saath date pe nahi jaa sakti?" Reva interrupted, a snicker escaping as she finished her sentence.

Saumya nodded, and Reva asked, "Kaafi elaborate plan nahi banaya hai tumne, apne Jeet Sir ke liye?"

Saumya shook her head, "Agar aapko pata hota ke unhone mere liye kya kuch kiya hai, toh yeh aap ko itna achambit nahi karta."

Reva nodded, and Saumya sighed in relief and asked, "Toh kya aap meri help karengi?"

Reva snorted, "Of course. Jeet ki Junior ke liye kuch bhi."

With that she entered Saumya's space, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to the field, training her to achieve what she wasn't sure she wanted.

Later, much later, Reva asked Saumya, "Agar Jeet tumhe sachh mein date pe leke gaya toh kya karogi."

Saumya smiled, a little curve lifted up her sad face, "Jeet Sir kabhi mujhe date pe nahi leke jaayenge."

Reva asked, curious, "Kyun?"

Saumya answered, sincerely, "Kyunki Jeet Sir ko apna chhatta khud hi pakadhne ki aadat hai."

Reva was confused, "What?"

Saumya chuckled, "Aap nahi samjhoge."

Now it wasn't that Reva was a miracle worker, but she was a good teacher, and Saumya tried to be a good student.

By the day of the hockey match, Saumya believed herself to be half-decent. At the last practise she had netted half the balls that had been sent to her. A decent enough record that determined nothing.

The chances of her winning that date was not less, but not exactly more.

While it wasn't sheer coincidence that let her win the date, she had to thank her luck, at least a little bit. The opposition team was strong, but her team and their players were good too. Not everyone scored a goal, and someone scored two.

She was the someone.

She scored two goals.

The first one was deliberate, she stood exactly where she was supposed to be and thankfully the goal had also stayed on. The second one was an accident, she was all over the place, and it had been instinct, an instinct that she had slowly developed during all the extra practise she had expended on.

There was a total of eleven of them, out of them they had three forwards, she was one of them, the left one. Their team scored a total of four goals. The last winning goal went to the centre-forward. The second and third goals were hers, and the first goal belonged to the right-forward.

It could be a stroke of luck, Saumya knew it wasn't entirely that. The chance of the goal was a stroke of luck but the one scoring the goal was Saumya, and that accident was still the culmination of all the hard work she had put in.

The thing was that she wasn't supposed to goal. The girls, Reet, the centre-forward, and Poonam, the right-forward, were the better players. They had the most shot accuracy out of all of them, and they competed the most on who wanted to go on that date with Jeet Sir.

While Saumya, Saumya was just average. She had an average shot accuracy, an average chance of scoring goals and an average chance of winning the date. She was better than the rest of the team at scoring goals but there was no chance that she could win from those two.

However, she did have the determination to win, a determination that really exceeded the rest of her average score.

Their celebration of winning the game was thankfully more important than the unwanted competition of being his date after scoring the most goals for them. They cheered and hollered and laughed and were happy as a team, a truce even took place between Reet and Poonam just for this instance.

Or may be because they had both lost.

And Saumya realised how much she missed this. How much she missed being a part of a team. How much she missed the adrenaline of winning. How much she missed being able to expend herself in a sport without caring for who was watching and who was judging.

Her happiness at scoring more goals than anyone and winning that date was not exactly secondary to the feeling of winning as a team.

That should've clued Saumya into the fact that she was not trying to score most goals so that her Jeet Sir would've have the option to not go on any date.

That should've clued Saumya into the fact that she did not want her Jeet Sir to go on a date with anyone else.

That should've clued Saumya into the fact that she practised and endured and scored because she wanted him for herself.

Alas, Saumya clued in to her feelings much later.

Saumya was clued in to what she felt much later when it was publicised that the girl scoring most goals would go on a date with him and her parents had freaked out and her brother had looked smug and his father and his father's wife tried to defame her and he didn't defend himself, but he defended her and she didn't defend herself, but she defended him.

She was walking towards the girl's locker room with the friends she had made on the team when Reet and Poonam had gotten into a fight. A fight at the entrance of their college, a fight that had garnered the attention of everyone within the vicinity of the college.

They were fighting over who would get to go on a date with him, Reet insisted that she would, as she had scored the winning goal of the game, whereas Poonam reasoned that she had scored the first goal of the match, hence kickstarting their winning streak.

Saumya had stood on the sidelines, unsure why they were fighting when she was the clear winner of the bet. The bet had stated the most goals, didn't it? She had the most goals. She didn't understand why they were fighting.

"I don't understand why you are fighting." Reva's words mirrored her unspoken thoughts.

Reet sighed, "Obviously, ab Saumya thodi nahi jaayegi Jeet ke saath. Woh bhi date pe."

Poonam snorted, as if Saumya wanting to go on a date with him was so out of bounds of reality, it made Saumya's blood boil. Why could she not go on a date with him? She could totally go on a date with him. What even did these girls know about him really? Did they know he had never been on a date before the ones Reva forced him to go on? Did they know that he did not want to go on a date with either of them? Did they know that he would rather be alone than go on a date with anyone?

Saumya knew him.

She understood him.

She needed him.

She wanted him.

She lov---

"Saumya---", it was her father's voice that interrupted her thought process, "jaldi se change karo aur chalo yaha se."

Saumya had been so lost in her own head that she hadn't noticed the arrival of her family. Did they hear about the bet that the one scoring most goals would go on a date with him. She tried to guess while looking at them, and while her father looked the regular amount of irritated and her mother looked the regular amount of concerned, her brother looked the most irregular amount of smug she has ever seen.

A look on Krish's face was enough for her to realise that they knew, and her mother had urged her father to not make a scene and that was why she was commanded to leave rather than demanded an explanation, then and there.

She sighed and began her walk towards the locker room again when his scent, the scent she had guessed was of his deodorant but was a strange mix of him and his deodorant, wafted through the air, making her steps pause.

She was now used to catching just his scent, since he did not talk to her anymore. She was now used to listening for just the sound of his footsteps, since he never stopped to look at her anymore. She was now used to the fastening of her heartbeat at his glimpse, since he never graced her with his presence anymore.

Poonam, unable to sense his presence behind her, mocked Saumya, "Haan haan Saumya, jaao jaao, jaldi se change karlo. Papa bula rahe hai tumhe. Papa ki baat nahi maan kar date pe jaaogi?"

"Yeh kya chalu hai yaha---", and it was another person who had absolutely no stakes in this conversation but was inserting himself because of his position as the Dean of the College, while his daughter and his wife stood on either side of him as his legitimate son followed, "---yeh hockey team meine isiliye banayi thi ki taaki ladkiyan milke ladko ke liye compete kar sake?"

Saumya tried to calm down. Her happiness at scoring goals and winning matches being overshadowed by people's assumption of her cowardness and her unwillingness, to go on a date with him. It was overshadowed by her father commanding her rather than congratulating her and it was overshadowed by his father reducing their big win to a bet.

"Ho gaya?", his voice thundered the atrium.

He was here.

Jeet Sir.

He moved to stand between her and everyone again, right in the middle of the atrium, as he continued, "Agar meri date planning karli ho aap sab ne, toh sab chalein, apne apne raste."

Reet moved ahead of Poonam, facing him while his back faced Saumya, she looked at the back of his head as she heard her ask, "Toh tum hi bata do. Kiske saath jana hai tumhe date pe?"

He clicked his tongue, and Saumya could easily imagine the expression on his face, and answered, "Kissi ke saath bhi nahi. Aur waise bhi tum mein se koi shart jeeta nahi hai joh tumhe mere saath date pe jaana hai."

It was his father's wife that spoke up then, "Achha hi hua, joh inmein se koi shart nahi jeeta. Warna inki badkismati hoti, joh inhe tumhare saath date pe jaana padhta. Aur joh shart jeeti hai, woh toh kabhi tumhare saath date pe jaayegi nahi."

Something snapped inside of Saumya when she heard how he was being spoken to, something that gave her the courage speak up in front of so many people. Something that gave her the courage to speak up for him.

Even when their relationship was so strained now.

She spoke up, her voice carrying the weight of the world as she came to his defence, "Kyun nahi jaana chahega koi Jeet Sir ke saath date pe?"

He turned around first, his gaze astonished at her for speaking up for him, that too in front of her father. Reet and Poonam both looked at her in awe, may be shocked that she wasn't opposed to the idea of a date with him. Saumya didn't even need to look at her brother, she could practically hear him grinning.

She looked up at his father, "Badkismati nahi hoti inke saath date pe jaana. Kissi bhi ladki ki kismat khul jaati inke saath date pe jaakar."

Her father snapped, "Saumya."

She looked at him and answered, scared, yet courageous, "Ji Papa."

He asked her, fury clear on his face, "Ghar chalo."

She nodded, "Bas ek minute Papa."

And the whole atrium was quiet at that, a silence so deep that a pin dropping would be heard. He looked at her, surprised, shocked, like he had never seen her before. And he hadn't, had he? This was what Saumya had always been. It just never came out anymore.

She could see Reva grinning at the peripheral of her gaze. May be being close to Reva had rubbed off on her.

Maybe she was ready to be Dabangg Saumya.

She took a deep breath as she moved in front of him, her back facing him as she faced the people that were closest to what he had left of family, but people who he would never consider family.

She explained herself, "College ke topper hai. Popular hai. Good-looking hai. Ladkiyon ki izzat karna jaante hai. Apni haddon ko pehchante hai. Dusro ki haddon ko samajhte hai. Kissi ka kabhi bura nahi chahte hai aur apne kaam se kaam rakhte hai. Unn logon ki izzat karte hai joh inki izzat karte hai, aur unn logon ko sabak sikhate hai joh inke saath galat karte hai. Bina matlab ke kissi se baat nahi karte aur ek baar kissi ko apna maan le, toh humesha unka saath nibhaate hai. Haan, gussa thoda jaldi aa jata hai, aur sorry aur thank you bolna nahi aata inhe. Anyatha inme koi buraai hai nahi."

She looked behind the Dean, at his wife, "Puri shamta rakhte hai, kissi bhi ladki ke jeevan mein rang bharne ki."

She glared at her, but Saumya was used to it now. She had been used to the cold shoulder she received from the Saxena Elders, except their grandmother of course, after the marriage alliance between her and Hridhaan did not work out.

"Agar aisa hai---", began the woman who loved her son too much for her own good, "---toh tum kyun nahi chali jaati iske saath. Date pe. Aakhir iske liye hi toh mere bete se Rishta todha that tumne. Waise bhi shart toh tum jeet hi gayi ho."

Saumya chuckled, like it mattered what she wanted to do. Like it mattered what she needed. The thing about Jeet Sir and her was that they almost always followed his lead. If he wanted to be near her, then it was all good, if he wanted to stay away from her, then they had to stay away from each other. She could ask of him to be near her, and it would be entirely up to him, if he chose to be near her, like he had when she had last asked of him, then he would be near her, if he chose to have nothing to do with her, then she would never be able to catch him, like it was now.

Her father, as if waiting for this accusation, as if preparing to fight her battles for her, stood by her as he said, "Sambhaal ke BhabhiJi. Saumya meri beti hai. Aap usse aise baat nah kar sakti."

She scoffed, "Bhai Sahab, aap bhi jaante hai aur hum bhi, ke Jeet ki wajah se hi mere Hridhaan aur aapki Saumya ka Rishta nahi ban paya. Aise hi maaf kar dun, iss Jeet ko, aur aapki Saumya ko, mere bete ka dil todhne ke liye. Bhai Sahab, taali ek haath se toh nahi bhajti. Agar aap pura blame iss Jeet par daal na chahte hai toh woh bhi sahi nahi hai. Aakhir kuch toh kiya hoga aapki beti ne, ke Jeet uske aas pass hi mandarata rehta hai. Aur Saumya bhi toh iss Jeet ke liye hum sab se aise baat kar rahi hai. Aap ko samajh nahi aa raha hai?"

"Arrey bas kijiye.", echoed his voice in the atrium. She did not flinch, she never did nowadays, now that she had been deprived of his voice, his presence, him, anything he did only strangely appeased her heart. She looked up at him as he stood by her, on her other side, "Mere baare mein keh liya, meine sun liya. Aap ko toh haq bhi hai. Mujhse nafrat karne ka. Par Junior? Junior ne kya bigaada hai aapka? Rishta todhne wale BapuJi the, naa ki Saumya. Saumya ne toh sirf apni aur apne parivaar ki izzat ko dhyaan mein rakhke aap log ko jawab diya tha."

But she did not back off, she continued, not answering him, instead instigating Saumya's father, "Dekha aapne, kaise Saumya ki tarafdari kar raha hai. Mujhe toh lagta hai Saumya ko sachh mein iske saath date pe chale jaana chahiye. You both deserve each other. Jeet apni chalata jaayega aur Saumya iski sunti jaayegi. Jeet apne mann ki karega. Aur Saumya bhi, sirf Jeetke mann ki karegi. Jeet decisions leta jaayega, aur Saumya unhe maanti jaayegi. Yahi toh chaahte hai dono. Jeet bas apni karta jaaye, and Saumya ko life mein koi decisions lene hi nahi padhe. You guys are perfect for each other."

Saumya tsked, interrupting him as he was about to try to defend them, no, defend her again, and asked, "Aur aapko toh bahut pata hain a perfect couples ke baare mein?"

Saumya held back her laughter as she choked. She waited a moment before she spelled out something simple, something no one was considering, "Mein iss date pe jaana chahti hun yaa nahi yeh mudda hai hi nahi. Mudda yeh hai ki iss date ki baazi bhale hi Jeet Sir ke anumati se hui thi, par woh anumati dena nahi chahte the. Toh unki anumati ke bina mein kya, koi bhi unke saath date pe nahi jaa sakta."

She nodded, and began to move towards the locker room again, but she came face to face with Reet and Poonam again, and before she could actually think about it, she turned to face her opponents once again and clarified, "Haan, iska yeh arth nahi hai ki meine yeh baazi bas ittefaq se jeeti hai. Kadhi mehnat aur parishram kiya tha meine, taaki mein yeh baazi jeet sakun. Taaki mein Jeet Sir ke saath yeh date jeet sakun. Isiliye nahi ki mujhe inke saath date pe jaana hai, balki isiliye kyunki mujhe pata hai ki inhe kissi ke saath bhi date pe nahi jaana hai. Aur inhe date pe naa jaane ka chayan sirf mein inhe de sakti hun."

With that she turned again, but not before she noticed his slacked jaw. She knew he had thought of it as a mere coincidence, her winning the bet, and the date. Well, it was not. It was a culmination of her hard work and her luck. He had already given so much to her, her freedom, her courage, her self, she could give him this one thing.

The one thing she realised that she wanted for herself.

That day her father did not talk to her, while her mother looked at her like she was looking at someone else and not her own daughter. She could live with it. Her father would come around. She knew. She hadn't actually done anything wrong. She hadn't said anything that wasn't true. She hadn't actually set out to hurt him.

If he was so hurt by her defending the person who had defended her all along the way, maybe, just maybe, she should be the one disappointed by him.

What she could live without, however, was her brother's incessant teasing.

He had not left her alone, not given her a moment of peace, since they had returned from the college. He had teased her, mocked her and was roaming around her, not stopping his childishness.

She looked at him exasperated and he let go of her Dupatta, the one he had wrapped around his neck while he teased, "Jeet Sir, kya hum date pe jaa sakte hai?", or "Jeet Sir, meine aapko jeet liya hai." or some iteration or the other of these two sentences, and asked her seriously, "Kyun jeeti yeh bet tum Saumya?"

She shrugged, "Kyunki mujhe pata tha ki woh unn do ladkiyon ke saath date pe nahi jaana chahte the."

He raised his eyebrows, "Bas isiliye?"

She shrugged again, trying to be as nonchalant as she could be while her heart and mind battered within her in an unrealistic realisation. He snorted, "Tum waapas wohi kar rahi ho."

She looked up at her brother, "Kya?"

Krish smiled, "Apne aap ko yeh accept karne se rok rahi ho, ke Jeet Sir tumhare liye kya hai."

She looked up at him, terrified, and he chuckled, his arm wrapping around her shoulder in a half hug. He left, but not before causing so much tumult between her heart and her mind.

While her mind did not accept that she could feel anything other than gratitude for what all he had done for her, her heart fought that she was allowed to fall for him.

While her mind battled that it was too fast, too soon, for this to be anything other than an infatuation, her heart whispered that it had moved past infatuation a long time ago.

While her mind reasoned that he was not right for her and she was not right for him, that he was this larger than life person who would never need or want for her, and she was this little bug that would always end up needing and wanting for him, her heart roared of the times she had understood him without him uttering a word, of the times she had found her courage just because it was him that needed someone and she wanted to be his someone, of all the times she didn't actually need him but he was there for her any ways.

While her mind tried again, to make her realise all the risks that were associated with him, his false reputation, her father's dislike of him, her mother's fear of him, her heart reminded again, of how he was beneath what he made himself to be, how he never failed to stand by her even when her father asked him to stay away from her, how he loved her mother's silent affection of him.

While mind whispered she couldn't possibly fall in love with him, her heart cried that she had.

She had.

Somewhere along the way, between jealousy from those girls, from Reva, and her Rishta with his half-brother that he had supported because he was one of her best friends, and his reluctance to want for her and her readiness to want for him, she had fallen for him.

He was everything she wasn't supposed to want.

He was everything she wanted.

She had fallen in love with the sun.

Oh, now she understood why she had always loved Icarus.

He wasn't afraid to fly close to the sun. He had flied close enough to crash and burn, but he had felt the warmth he had craved.

She wouldn't be afraid to love him. She would gladly crash and burn if it meant that she could feel the warmth she craved. She would not give him up just because he was capable of hurting her.

Icarus had not known the sun would hurt him.

She knew that he could never hurt her.

She wouldn't let him even if he tried.

She looked down from the sun at the sound of his Baby echoing through the neighbourhood. She watched as he took off his helmet, wafting his fingers through his hair. He looked up, maybe feeling her gaze on him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, their gazes met and stayed at each other.

She knew he wasn't ready for her love. She knew from that quiet fear in his gaze at her presence that he wasn't ready to need her yet, to want her yet.

But she would wait.

She would wait for him in quiet devotion and passion.

She would wait for him in silence.

She would wait for him to fall in love.

She would wait for his love.