A Stone's Throw Away - *complete* Pg 14 - 02/01 - Page 11

[Music Selection]

A/N: So this is hardly a drabble, so to say - exceeding in length, and in format so, so much! I'll call it a vignette, like an SS of sort, just 2 chapters though, and here's the first one.

Please make sure you hear the song linked above before/after reading the update; it inspires the title of this piece. The lyrics in the beginning are from it too - and the whole song fits GK so well.

Also, the sequence of events in this piece are inspired from a whole range of scenes from the show itself, with a generous dash of drama from my side. So its not really like writing out one particular GK scene - but merging a whole bunch of them in essence to make a new one - where the characters and their story is exactly as it was in the show.

And that's enough of my blabbing. Enjoy reading!

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A Stone's Throw Away

Sticks and stones make broken bones

Empty words make broken homes

But it's love that broke our hearts...

Exasperatedly he rummaged through his cupboard willing it to cut him some slack and yield but one wearable pair of nightwear to retire for the night. A search which was proving to be in vain, for neither was his mind into it, nor the worse than perpetual state of his dresser anymore obliging to his plight. Homecoming was an exhausted excuse now, he realized, for his neglect of routine tasks, which had exceeded even his own level of tardiness.

Despite the reminders from Paan Ba, and her.

Especially her, he guiltily conceded, for she'd lived too long with the notion of being responsible for his means and ends.

Kesar had only ever been the fast and furious 'engine' at the forefront. Driven singularly towards the goal ahead and unmindful of the clutter left behind.

Gulaal had always cleaned up after him.

And old habits die hard, if they ever do.

It was only last evening that he had walked into his room to find her having taken the liberty of tidying up for him; separating the clean clothes in a neat pile on one side, and retrieving the remaining worn linen from where they were flung carelessly all over.

An objective person would have expressed gratitude, or at least felt it. Kesar however had made a habit of taking offense to the very existence of Gulaal these days.

The perfect harmony, with which she had prevailed in his domain, doing his chores, had snapped his own fibre of fragile equilibrium. His had felt his chest tighten instinctively, but he would have suffocated before recognizing the nature of his underlying vulnerability. Instead, he had willed resilience to kick in for damage control. Walked right in to snatch his dirty laundry from her hands, before she had had a chance to fully perceive his arrival. Then even as she had hastened to recover, and fumbled in protest - both at once - he had marched over to the neat pile of carefully folded clothes, raised a contemptuous eye at her and with one cruel strike of the back of his hand undone her evening's labour.

That had stumped her to silence.

She had blinked blankly at the clothes that had fallen in a heap at his feet; before finally raising her eyes, to seek out his, and the disbelief in her gaze had a soul-searching quality about it which rankled him ineffably. Enough, that he had been egged into reminding her (in words embittered by this constant battle) to mind her own business and leave him alone. And with that he had turned his back upon her as if asserting his intention, but actually desperate to ward off her penetrating stare. For several quiet moments, he had been acutely aware of the palpable strain that had hung between them.

Then abruptly he had heard the familiar soft rustling of her heavy skirt behind him, a sure indication she had moved, and before he could stop himself he had turned right back around. To find her making her way to the door, with an uncharacteristic resignation about her. Her step had lingered ever so tentatively at the threshold, and he had held his breath unknowingly, waiting, almost wishing for her to turn around and appeal again to his sensibility, or conscience... or both.

But turned back she had not. The moment had lapsed as she crossed over and walked away.

Agitation had washed him afresh. In two bounding leaps he had reached the door and snatching the handles had slammed it shut with a startling echo that had reverberated in an uncanny resemblance of his frustration. And just like that, he had slumped against it, feeling inexplicably drained.

The perverse sense of triumph that he usually felt in defeating Gulaal had eluded him, and his emotions had built dangerously towards a breakdown. He hadn't when his eyes had begun to sting, and fill up, nor that his vision was blurred, until his retreating step had faltered over an obtrusive shirt on the floor. Mechanically he had kneeled down to gather the scattered clothes one by one, but then the image of her doing the same had flashed before his eyes, as had his irrational reaction to her harmless gesture, and a mad wrath had seized him again. He had hurled everything in hand, and everything in sight, one at a time, with a force that had sent things flying and crashing all over the room.

It was some tens of minutes before he had finally exhausted all his fury, and expended the last trace of any energy within him, sinking to the floor like a victim of his own storm. Sitting amidst the destruction left in its wake, devoid of any will to gather its pieces. Sometime during the wee hours he had succumbed to a fitful sleep, lonely in his room, and life.

A persistent knocking on his door had woken him up this morning. Groaning at the disturbance he had somehow managed to raise himself to his feet, swearing to physically harm whoever it was, even as he had caught his own unsteady step twice over the clutter, before making it to the door. Then just as he had reached for the latch, rubbing his eyes roughly, they had hurt from being excessively dry, from all the crying, and just like that events of the last evening had come flooding back. It had caused him to withdraw his hand in uncertainty, before asking who it was.

When Talli had replied from the other side, Kesar had been hit by simultaneous waves of relief and disappointment. Barely keeping his souring mood from reflecting in his voice, he had sent off Talli with a terse response, without opening the door. Then he had turned around and wearily taken in the state of his room. Hastily he had set off to clear the space, if for nothing else, than appearance sake. Sweeping a miscellaneous collection of broken things under his bed, and compressing all the clothes, clean and otherwise, into one big pile to fit inside the cupboard. So that by the time he was done his room had at least ceased to look like it had been hit by a tsunami. Then he had scurried off for a quick shower and changed into a pair of oddly matched shirts; before stealing out of the house without a word to anyone, determined to avoid any encounter with Gulaal.

He had walked at length to the family kaarkhana from there, leaving the bike at home, lest he gave away his unannounced departure. Once there, he had wasted no time leaving a message with a senior employee about heading to the city for some materials, before taking the spare jeep and driving away.

The first half of the day he had drowned himself in work. But when all that was done and there was nothing else to distract himself with anymore, he had driven back, taking a detour on the way to the secluded village pond, his usual refuge. There he had spent hours brooding. Confessing the dilemma of a decade before the abounding nature that had been sheltering his solitude and secrets; confronting it with the conflict over his volatile equation with Gulaal; seeking some clue about where all this was headed...

Her continued infidelity, his continued vengeance and the wall of pending justice between them that grew increasingly impenetrable, day after day...

By the time night had descended upon Talsagra, Kesar - hours later, none the wiser – fatigued in body and mind had made his way back home, intending to keep his return as quiet as his morning escape. Stealthily, he had retraced the path, leaving the jeep at its spot and keeping a low profile as he walked back the rest of the way.

It wasn't until he had entered the privacy of his room and sighed heavily in relief to have made it unnoticed, that it had abruptly struck him. How preoccupied with his agenda to avoid Gulaal, he had overlooked the fact that she had in fact kept just as strictly out of his way. It could hardly have been a coincidence that she had neither caught him leaving in the morning, nor returning back now. Of the couple calls he had received from home during the day, neither had been from her. Not a word from her in fact.

He had grown to recognize the oddity of these instances, more certain than ever, of Gulaal's obvious intention. It had been a final blow to whatever resolve had survived in him after the travails of past 24 hours or so.

It was hence that Kesar currently stood shuffling through the unkempt contents of his wardrobe, unable to shrug of the gnawing despair of it all.

Confrontations had become a feature between them since his return. Why then would she have taken last night's encounter any worse? It didn't matter that she was finally abiding byhis wish to be left alone. It didn't matter that he had himself sought to avoid her all day. There was just no logical explanation anymore that could convince him that she had been keeping her distance all day because it was what he had wanted!

How could she! He'd obstinately stayed away from her for a whole damn decade – had she quit trying to seek him out then? Why would she comply now! He was always telling her to keep away from him – so what!

He was Kesar. Her Kesar. She was Gulaal. His Gulaal. That's how it always had been.

He had thought old habits die hard. Perhaps sometimes, they really did.

Kesar inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes tight, then opening them again to focus for the nth time on finding himself some nightwear. Trying to swallow this feeling of being an outcast in his own life, ignorant of what it was that he really wanted anymore.

And precisely that moment, concurring with his sense of self-oblivion, his room, in an uncanny reflection of his state of mind, was plunged into a pool of darkness.

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ps: Anything confuses you, please do ask me to explain. Also, I'm done with the second chapter, but I'll post it only once I'm sure that most of you, if not all are done reading this one - trust me, you don't want to read it in a go, because it leaves no room to speculate.

SOOO - Read and Review fast! And 'Like' for attendance please 🤓

xx

JZee

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