FF: Maan&Geet: 120, Chandini's Rooftop - CLOSED - Page 31

"Maan...wake up please" She shook him up gently by the shoulder. Leaving him by himself was not a good idea and she wanted him to be better in control of the situation if Pinky was going to be his helper for the next couple of hours.

As much as she wanted to spend every fleeting second with him - now that their hours together were numbered - she had to leave too, to get Dev back to Rooftop tonight. He was leaving? And as the thought registered, she felt a gut-wrenching pain in her belly. She moved quickly to the kitchen to cook up something and to better occupy herself; she rattled the vessels in her small shelf. Having found one of a suitable size, she started a porridge recipe on the stove.

Why was it so difficult to let him go? Was that even the right question? If he never did belong to her...Wait when did she have a claim on people? Her thoughts scattered here and there. Was she allowed to proclaim Pinky as part of her life? She asked now. Or does she have to give her up to? In her eyes, pinky was the prey in an eagle's nest, that being Rooftop. And she knew best that her 15 yr old self adopted daughter had to leave someday...very soon indeed.

It was one of the days when one questions the very ground they stand on. Like she was a bale of cotton and with every wind stroke a part of her was disintegrating to be carried away in swirls of the breeze that went its way. He would take a part of her too today...She wondered when she would cease to exist if that is how the current of air worked in her life.

One would think that for a woman outside the social proprieties, the constant juggle of questions were there everyday of their unblessed life, but little did anyone know she was far from it. She had come to the wretched place at an age when her prime innocence had just started to learn there were no things black or white. And that life was more grey than the sharp contrast or boundaries that had normally existed between her favorite colors; at least that is how it was back in Hoshiarpur. Rooftop was where she was taught that there was no such thing as boundaries or rules to play by. All sins known to mankind were cradled, tasted and enforced upon one's entry here. She had resisted, fought and fled the system innumerable times and had given in eventually, although only out of helplessness and self-pity. It was a difficult ride up from there, but as years went by she had strangely come to accept her own fate. That she was a mere actor, acting out the puppeteer's plans for her. To her, her life was like that of a train passenger. Better explained that she was only guaranteed a seat in the train and that no other aspect was really for her to control. Not where she sat, or with whom she sat. Sometimes she would even be asked to move to the next compartment while others would come to take her seat, the one she had naively thought was hers. Then there were the people who got on and off the train; no one really stayed for long. But time passed by with that unsettling notion and now she had come to believe that Pinky and Manchanda uncle showed up in her journey more often than most others, at least they were the only two souls, who sought her company and not her body. No...No...she would have to include Taposh to the list too...Or perhaps Aonu...

What can she say about that stubborn little brat whose only demand was to have half glass of cutting-chai with her once every month? He always insisted on paying and she would - pretty much every time - leave behind money by the side of her glass. They never talked much. And what irked her more was how his gaze would never leave her side - like that of her shadow, tugging onto her like a vat of sap - staying with her the entire time she would sit in that same Table no: 8 and chat up Manchandaji. Truth be told, he had what others would call very noble intentions and she had dismissed it as selfish giving execuses that he was a social activist looking to gain extraneous attention. He had proposed marriage through her uncle and she had outright denied the conjugal connection and didn't want to entertain such fancy unless he could also help get Pinky out of Rooftop. Of course she had never clearly stated her close ties about Pinky to him, not when she could not bring herself to be romantically inclined towards him. Unquestionably she needed a man who knew her baggage well, not any son of an insanely rich guy who thought rebelling and revolting was de rigeur to be cool.

If Taposh was one unrequited story of her saga, then Aonu - she corrected now - Anurag was the other. He was far more confusing than any man she had ever met; Maan might make an exception there, but she still didn't know the man yet. And yet being the keyword. Aonu, that is how she affectionately called him, had come to her roughly some 2 yrs ago. She didn't know which of life's miseries had brought him to her, but they had jelled well; a bit too well, that they no longer needed discretion to see each other. He had always come to her for answers and she had oddly served right counsel one too many times that she was his official BF now. But he was a man who lacked direction in every sense, so much so that he didn't even know where their relationship was heading. He would often ask her to run away with him and then there was the time he would grow ultra jealous in the event of seeing her as somebody else's escort that he would end up creating a scene right there. Considering all this, the catch was that she actually liked him. There was an unexplainable sensitivity in him, a fragile vulnerability and an unyielding nature of an infant that drew him to her. The power dynamics of their relationship - which she was sure he was unaware of - was fluid and it tripped both ways, making her feel in control when she needed. At other times, he obviously took over and provided for her, unconsciously nurturing a few of her deep-rooted needs to belong and deserve a man's genuine affections. As much as he felt she was important in his life, he was in almost all ways his father's son too, making him the least available as a prospect to seek any relationship. If this was not enough, he had never - not once in the last 2 years - talked to her directly or rather more earnestly about redeeming her from the sordid place and profession she was in. But to her own wonder, she felt she wanted to wait. Perhaps someday she could be his distressed damsel which still didn't dawn on him and she has been that and nothing else since eons ago. Well there had always been the question of why she preferred one to the other, when she had simply never attempted to give Taposh a chance to try his hand at wooing her. Only obvious rationale being that Aonu had entered her life well before Taposh and had taught her not to wallow in self-pity (he knew about it too well and could call it, when he saw one even with his eyes closed); he had quoted Lawrence callously to her and had told her about how a wild thing would never feel sorry itself and that it rather drop dead than sympathize for itself. For reasons she didn't know, it was what had seen her though difficult times and made her the woman she was now.

It indeed could be the inconvenience and the secret nature in which she would have to spend time with Taposh, seemingly making it a zealous affair, when no such caution would be necessary with Aonu, given that he practically owned the place she lived in. She couldn't risk indulging in any such endeavors that could threaten Pinky's life and chastity. Perhaps the more important winning factor was neither her feelings for them nor who could caringly rescue her, for she in an atypical manner preferred a man who could indeed rescue her Pinky. That was going to need a lot of money; a lot more than she could make in her lifetime. Both inherited minted green in sacks, actually countless trucks filled with sacks and yet they had never quite offered to help with her vision for Pinky, even when she had accidentally or circuitously - but never blatantly - shared the same with them.

She had always thought there were just these two men against each other and then the rest of the immoral chaps in her life that made up the rest of universe who only wanted the very self-evident purpose of her profession from her. But it all changed the day he had arrived at her doorstep almost lifeless. Her very simple linear question now turned quadratic of the second order, the variables growing into three in number. Everything doubled with him, starting with attraction, the tension in the air and physical need for a man. For the first time around, she forgot Pinky and he overbore her thoughts night and day. Three days seemed like three decades with him and every minute a throbbing ache to lose her in his arms. It did not even matter what she perceived of her. This kind of madness had never subdued her all the time she had been with Aonu. Undeniably this was not love, not when it had just been a couple of days since she had met him, or could it be? This was exactly why she was more drawn towards him like moth to a flame, when he muzzled her senses with his mere presence; the pull overgrowing inside her, robbing her of her much needed answers when it came to him. And she was frankly even admitting her own corporal needs in his case. Her mind behaved like a weird lifelike organism every time his thoughts entered her conscious, multiplying the same into a million in a matter of minutes. A few days at one point did seem ages, but it all tipped over when she drifted her thoughts about his leaving and the time spent with him seemed like nanoseconds. She never understood why she had had those vague and baseless conversations with him and not dare bring up her opinions with another soul. Why did she bother, worry or be concerned for his health and safety? How she hated the angst he stirred in her? He had to leave...He just had to go; she cried silently.

She wondered when was the last time she had come close to feeling this emotional. It was along time ago, even before she had come to rooftop; a life and a past from a time she didn't associate herself with anymore.

While seated next to him and clutching onto a hot rice porridge glass in one hand, she ran her other hand over his forehead to wake him up.

"Maan..." She called out to him again. This time, she had moved in closer and had whispered slowly into his ears. Her warm breath that stoked his skin had done the trick and his feet kicked unconsciously at the foot of the bed.

The discomfort and pain soared as she dragged him out of the hazed stupor he had been in for a while. What was he paying for? He bawled mentally. He felt there must be involuntary and quite invisible spasms around the part of the body above his midriff, for the stinging and shooting pain was growing every waking second. His sight cleared up as she slowly drew into focus and he saw a very edgy Geet next to him, still covered up face upwards, her eyes antsy and dull under pressure. Surely, he had only dreamt up that vision of a goddess

"Argh! " he yelled while he moved against the pillow almost instinctively when she had jilted him.

"Drink this Maan...I want you to be watchful and you need some strength for that" He pulled himself as she supported him with her hold on his far shoulder and brought the hot semi-liquid drink to his mouth. There was nothing that could make him vigilant - even for the life of him - as the blinding soreness raged his torso, but he didn't care to explain it to her. He quietly obeyed her instruction without another word.

"Maan...I'm going out, Pinky will be with you. Just keep both of you alive by the time I come back" He looked up at her curiously pausing as he gulped down the slush. She looked irritated and of course he didn't know why nor did he get her gall sarcasm. He didn't have it in him to find out either.

"Don't look at me like that...I know I look stupid making that request in your condition, but just do it alright...at least try" The warm carbs gave him the much needed vigor. Perhaps that is what he required to feel better and drank up another mouthful, while he rested back on her shoulder.

"What is this about? Why do you need to go? I thought they don't send you out" His voice was a hoarse whisper, struggling to utter words audibly instead of a painful grumble. He had quizzed her amazed at his own ability to rile her with questions and she looked the part too. He looked up anticipating an answer, as his forehead scrunched up partly from the gnawing tenderness and other due to his keen interest. There were other questions he had wanted to find out answers for some instants ago and now all that he was concerned was about her going out? Really now?

"They know what they are doing...Pinky is the safety deposit..." Her voice mellowed at that "My undeclared daughter...I took her in after her mother died of AIDS" Gory details they were as she made sense that she had given more than what was necessary. This was bound to happen, the blabbering and loss of control were only side effects compared to the full-scale impact he had on her when he was this close. Not that she had degrading intentions - no woman can when he suffered like that - but she wanted to do more to pacify his pangs of pain.

He looked up at the mention of the very word that claimed more lives of woman in her profession than anywhere else. Her eyes glowed with pride and a deep sorrow he didn't comprehend. It was a mixture of emotion laced more with maternal instinct; a kind he was not exposed to. He skipped the topic and delved further into what had originally piqued his interest.

"Where are you going? You don't have to tell me if you think it's not appropriate" He said with the same previous tone and difficultly.

"Hospital"

"Why? Are you ok?" She looked displeased and he was jerking up at her response. He hoped she was not going to risk anything for him. But that did not even make it as words, did it? His first instinct was to fear for her.

She didn't like it that he was suddenly delving into an area that reminded her how very different she was from other woman he knew. She wanted him to shut up and perhaps even for her to leave early.

"Haan...I'm well" she managed a word out her displeasure.

"Is it a medical camp of some sort?" He asked, not letting go, growing stubborn with her persistence to stay indifferent. That had done it for her and so she went off in a tirade.

"This is routine Maan. I get it done every time I can...You know I have to stay alive if not for this nation or even for this basti, but at least for Pinky. I can't just die on her like her mother did...leave her alone...abandon her" She didn't even know who she was talking about towards the end. He was taken back, but remained silent noticing her tears that welled up around the corner of her eyes. He honestly didn't mean to intrude, but her annoyance and vexation gave away it was not about that either. He opted silence as guilt overtook him.

As she saw the tear drop slide down her jaw and plop on his cheek, she rushed out, handing him the tall glass in a heated haste. She calmed herself down in the bathroom and brushed aside all the thoughts and crossness that she felt with everything around her. Coming back into the room in the same pace she had left, she announced that Pinky would be joining him soon and that she was locking the door from outside, given that Pinky had her own key. After that she stormed out in lightening speed...far far away from him was where she wanted to be, where he would not enter any part of her conscious mind, even if that meant the black hole itself.