A very Merry Chirstmas to every one and esp. to those who celebrate it
Part 4
Geet we will help you to get ready."
Geet hesitated when she took the dress from Meera's fingers.
"Why don't you use the guest room, Geet" Naintara said as she relived Geet of the dress and led her towards a door on the other side of the room."You can freshen up a little from the taxi ride, if you need to."
Geet sent her sister a grateful look and did exactly that.
Part 5
As Geet took the dress from Naintara and entered the room she felt nostalgic. This was the same room where Rajji had come running into her arms when she was ten. Geet did not remember her mother or father even though she was four when they had left the three children orphaned. She had looked after Rajji like a mother hen maybe going aboard a bit and bossing around.
As she made her hair into a hairstyle which would suit the dress she could not help herself from the thoughts of the past.
The wistful thoughts brought a longing in her to come back to her home but it would be a regretful decision as coming back would bring back the melancholy, the dejectedness, the dismal and depressed memories of those long ago back which she could not forget even if she wished.
All the while thinking and being philosophical she kept on getting ready, wearing her jewellry, her dress but her mind was being insightful and perceptive today, remembering the reminiscences, the incidences, the thoughts which she had recessed in some corner of her mind. The running around the woods, with Rajji following her, the time when taiji would scold and she would sulk refusing to eat anything. The way Nayani di would bring food for her hiding it from taiji and feeding her with her own hand.
Or
Please see the video before you read the part as the video perfectly describes the feelings of Geet
It's a beautiful video and the credit goes to dangelz
She was still in her reflective thoughts when she heard a soft knock on the door, she hurried to finish zipping up her kurti before that someone knocked again. But before she could button up her kurti the noise of the door opening made her realize someone was standing at door and that realization made Geet shake, shake right down her knees. Even before she could look up she knew the eyes that would meet hers in the mirror would be those of Maan, Maan Singh Khurana. As their eyes met in the mirror she was astound even though she had sensed him.
Aankhon Ki Gustakhiyaan
Maaf Hon
O Aankhon Ki Gustakhiyaan
Maaf Hon
Ek Tuk Tumhein Dekhti Hain
Jo Baat Kehna Chaahe Zubaan Tumse Vo Ye Kehti Hain
For a second, none could move but then he bowed his head seeing her not yet dressed fully making Geet realize she had not worn her duppatta and her buttons were open. She hurriedly took her duppatta and turned away from the mirror trying to do her buttons not realizing she was giving a perfect view of her back and the efforts she was putting in doing up her button. While doing up her kutri's buttons she kept on thinking, 'What as he doing here? Why did he come? What as the need for him to come in front of her now?' she just wanted to leave from there, 'How will she be able to behave normally in front of him? Will she be able to control her emotions in front of him'
Aankhon Ki Sharmohaya
Maaf Ho
Tumhein Dekhke Jhukti Hain
Uthi Aankhein Jo Baat Na Keh Sakin
Jhuki Aankhein Vo Kehti Hain
Aankhon Ki
Aankhon Ki
Gustakhiyaan
Maaf Hon
'Why was he so quite? Why was he not saying anything' as she tried to cross him on the threshold of the door she could not stop herself from glancing at his face trying to get a glimpse of any emotions on his face. 'why was he not apologizing, did he believed what he did that summer was correct and acceptable.'
Kaajal Ka Ek Til Tumhare Labhon Pe Laga Loon
La la la...
Haan Chanda Aur Suraj Ki Nazron Se Tumko Bacha Loon
Hmmm...
Oh Palkhon Ki Chilman Mein Aao Main Tumko Chhupa Loon
As she climbed down the steps and walked into the hall the memories of the day that long ago summer, flashed like a film in front of her eyes.
High in the hills above the village was an area which had long since been abandoned. The small house that sat on the edge of woods remained neglected and tattered forgotten by everyone.
Well, almost by everyone.
Just as the sun's heat began to wane as the white light of the noon began to mellow into something closer to gold a teenage girl appeared, walking along the dirt track that led to the cottage. She looked over to her shoulder every now and then to make sure no one was following her, when she felt no one followed her she almost ran to the farmhouse, a beaming smile on her face.
She was on the way to being pretty, a bud just beginning to open, with long dark hair that hung almost to her waist and a pretty flawless skin. When she stopped smiling, there was a fierce intensity to her expression but as she seemed to be joyfully awaiting something, that did not happen very often. She rested in the shade, leaning against the doorway of the decrepit cottage.
Aa...
Khayaalon Ki Ye Shokhiyaan
Maaf Hon
Har Dam Tumhein Sochti Hain
Jab Hosh Mein Hota Hai Jahan Madhosh Ye Krti Hain
Aankhon Ki Sharmohaya
Maaf Ho
After not more than ten minutes a sound interrupted the soft chirping of the crickets, the gentle whoosh of the wind in the branches of the tress. The girl stood ramrod straight and looked at the track. After a couple of seconds the faint buzzing that an untrained ear might have interpreted it for a bee or a faraway tractor became more distinct. She recognized the sound, the engine of the Enfield bike made and her smile returned at double the intensity.
Her patience ran out. Instead of waiting in the doorway looking cool and unaffected, she stood up and started running. As she turned the corner of the house she saw him jogging towards her, wearing a grin on his face which turned into a dazzling smile after seeing her. The bike stood some distance away. Her leg muscle lost all tone and energy and she stumbled to a halt unable to take her eyes from him.
Finally he was standing right in front of her, his dark hair ruffled by the wind and his honey brown eyes warmed by the residual laughter that always lived there. They stood there for a few seconds, hearts pounding, and then he gently touched her cheek and drew her into a kiss that was soft and sweet and full of promises. She sighed and reached for him, pulling him close. They themselves did not understand how they ended up back in the doorway of the old-half-fallen down cottage, with her pressed against the jamb as he tickled her neck with butterfly kisses.
He pulled away and looked at her, his hands on her shoulders, and she gazed back at him, never thinking for a second how awkward it could be to just stare into another person's eyes, never considering for a second what a brave act it was to see and be seen. She blinked and smiled at him and his dancing honey brown eyes became suddenly serious.
"I love you, Geet," he said, and moved his hands up off her shoulders and onto her neck so he could trace the line of her jawbone with his thumbs.
"I love you too, Maan" she whispered as she buried her face in his shirt and wrapped herself up in him.
Ye Zindagi Aapki Hi Amaanat Rahegi
Ay Hey
Dil Mein Sada Aapki Hi Mohabbat Rahegi
Ay Hey
In Saanson Ko Aapki Hi Zaroorat Rahegi
Is Dil Ki Naadaniyaan
Maaf Hon
Ye Mere Kahan Sunti Hain
Ye Pal Pal Jo Hote Hain Bepal Sanam Toh sapne Naye Bunti Hain
With a sudden jerk when he pulled her, he brought her out of her daze and into the present. Geet hasn't actually believed that a person could literally be frozen with surprise, too late she discovered it was perfectly possible and she found herself suddenly incapable of speech. When he slowly turned her and moved her plait on her shoulder giving him more access to her back, she felt as she was in a dream and he was the same Maan of all those years ago.
Aankhon Ki
Aankhon Ki
Gustakhiyaan
Maaf Hon
Sharmohaya
Maaf hon
His hands softly touched her back to do up her buttons, a shudder passed through her making her realize the intensity of her want. As she turned and looked into his eyes she realized she had not forgotten him one iota, he was as ingrained into her being as a bee's sense of flower, nectar for the birds, seeds for the soil. He was the consciousness of her mind. The sprit to her soul.
When she tried to utter a word he placed his hand on her mouth stopping her from saying anything.
It was the feel of his skin on her mouth which brought her out of her stupor and she slapped him.
Edited by crystal-rose - 13 years ago
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