Chapter 49 - One Step At a Time
Maan watched in silence as he observed Geet poring over the notes he had created for her. She rocked back and forth, her head rested on her knee, while she absently tapped the knee of her other leg that was tucked under her.
He had watched with hidden amusement as his staff had thrown shocked glances at her and then him. It was out of character for anybody to be in his office, when no one had ever been reserved the right of entry. He didn't care in the least, but a part of his mind did wonder what had brought about this lax in the rules. Another part knew the answer, but he feigned ignorance.
What was worth focussing on was, that Geet needed his help. As it was, she was only there in the mornings, and soon those too would be gone. An empty feeling expanded in his chest, at the thought. He knew why she would not visit the office, often. Handa Constructions was in need of its heir ' and right now, the heir was in need of help.
It had been a fortnight since Maan had beaten up Adhiraj. It had been a fortnight since Geet had stopped speaking to her family. It had been a week now, since Mohinder Handa had been hospitalized.
When he thought back now, it had been the classic emotional blackmail. Mohinder Uncle had fallen ill, Geet had rushed to the hospital. He had reached an hour later. As he had taken in the details from the doctor, he had been puzzled over Geet's glumness. But, his anger at Mohinder's request had been quickly doused by Geet's confession, that she had agreed. She would take over Handa Constructions until Mohinder recovered.
He had tried speaking to Mohinder about unfairly taking advantage of his situation ' but he had realized there was little he could do , once Geet had made up her mind.
He sat now observing her going through files and comparing the notes.
She'd occasionally ask him the purpose behind an entry and the meaning of a particular highlighted section.
The fact that she'd turned to him for help, despite the knowledge that he disapproved, meant more than anything else to him.
*********
"One , two, three, step forward, turn; one two three, step forward side turn. Anisha, bend forward, Again...".
It was late evening and the last batch of the day was running through its practice. Isra called out the count to the latest number as she guided the dancers through their steps. Farhan was the only one around giving her company. The fatigue showed on their faces as they went through their routine work.
She wiped a trail of sweat and turned to look at the digital clock set into the wall. It was nearing 8 pm and she still had to learn the choreography for the latest track. Vicky had called to say that he'd be joining them at 8:30, so that meant, she only had half an hour to learn the routine.
As she dismissed class, she grabbed a wet towel and covered her face with it, letting the couch pull her into its squishiness. She felt a weight settle next to her and lifted the towel to see Farhan leaning his head behind on the headrest. He rarely showed signs of fatigue. It surprised her. Sensing her gaze, he turned his head, to look at her and then smiled in his own quiet way. Her breath caught in her throat, as she saw the softness in his eyes.
She smiled back, but then sat up, suddenly feeling parched. He had seemed to notice her movement and was looking at her questioningly.
"S- s- soda?", she asked, nervously. She fled the moment she saw him nod.
******
She had returned with just one soda and had offered it to him. That he had shared it with her, had unsettled her. Nevertheless, she had gulped it. He saw her pull out an impossibly large chocolate bar from her bag and offer some to him. He could see that she was dreading the choreography she had to learn. Her eyes drooped from exhaustion and her shoulders hunched up near her neck. But learning the choreography was imperative, and so he gave her a five minute break and then headed towards the smaller studio.
Luckily the song was a peppy number. The kind that aimed to spring one's mood. It had ridiculously lyrics, bordering on scandalous. He smiled absentmindedly as he dwelt on some bits of the lyrics and the beats. She still had three minutes to go, so he warmed up by free-styling. It had been a while since he had danced to film songs. The drama in each step made him roll his eyes, but he acknowledged at the same time the effort it took to portray the songs well.
She entered when he was half-way across, and joined him, mimicking his steps. As they came to a stop, she pulled out the 3/4th eaten bar from her pants and lifted it to eat some more, when his shocked look arrested her movements. It was clear that he was astounded about the quantity she had gobbled. Embarrassed, she offered some to him, which he mutely refused.
Five minutes later, the chocolate, an unwelcome reminder of discomfiture, lay on the table disregarded, as he began teaching her the new routine. It was a difficult one to a highly popular number. He saw the pleasure erupt in her eyes as she recognized the song and followed his steps. They were three steps into the routine, when he saw her break into a smile; the like of which he had only seen when she was lost in the song. Her eyes never left his movements as she struggled to catch up to the routine in the time limit. It left him vaguely relieved, as he realized that his gaze had been glued to the transition of emotions left open on her face. The laugh that flit on her face, the tuft of hair that flew about when she jumped, the undistinguishable frown that appeared when she couldn't get a ball change, or the excitement when she did a part correctly.
So engrossed was he, that he missed how she placed her foot for the turn and almost missed her fall. He turned swiftly to catch her around the waist and held her tight in arms, as she popped open the eyes she had squeezed shut. Her shock gave way to relief, and she twisted in his arms to take stock of their position in the mirror behind them. He watched with bated breath as she looked dazedly at the mirror and then looked at him, with an amused smile.
"So filmy...", she said.
That did it!
Before he could control himself, he had thrown his head back in silent laughter, letting go of her. A dull thump and a muffled sound reached him, as he turned back to see that she had fallen on her behind, this time around.
Still laughing, he moved to help her up, ignoring her embarrassment, this second time around.
********
Three weeks!
It had been three weeks since he had spoken to her. His patience was running thin, but there was little he could do. He had followed her home again. And he had seen her mother open the door. He didn't want her to face problems, and so had stayed away. That had been 3 days ago. Work at the studio had stopped him from indulging in such borderline nefarious activities. He wondered how she didn't realize that the same car followed her that often. Well, at least he could rest assured, that he had a choice in an alternative career.
He followed her again, today. She had stepped out of the cab slowly. A depressed air hung around her and he could feel the gloom even at a distance of 500mts. He waited for her to follow routine and ring the bell. However, the moment she saw her pull out a bunch of keys from her purse, he had unlocked his seatbelt and made his way to her door.
When she opened the door, she didn't look in the least surprised. She let him enter, without a word, like she had been expecting him. He took a seat taking in the house. The furniture had been moved and things had changed. It seem tidier, less comforting. The warmth had disappeared.
As she re-entered the room with two mugs of coffee, he observed her quietly for the first time. A defeated look had taken over her stern features. She refused to look at him, as she puttered around putting things back in place. Her hands shook from time to time as she pulled out files, or switched on her laptop.
He watched her every move like a hawk, acutely aware that she knew he was watching, and was still ignoring him.
"If you don't want me here, you only have to say it", he said quietly, eyeing her back.
She stiffened.
"You shouldn't be here, it's not good."
"Why?"
"Why should you be here?" she asked in return.
"Have you forgotten it this quickly, or would you like me to say it again and again?"
"No".
"No, what? Explain yourself, please".
"No, I don't want you to say it again", she said, a cold air surrounding her suddenly.
He walked to her suddenly and turned her around. "Is it because you don't reciprocate?", he whispered, his eyes wide with apprehension.
"Vicky,...stop", she whispered back.
" No Meera, I can't take this...answer me!!", he shot back, his hold on her arms tightening, sharply.
With sudden strength that belied her petite frame, she pushed his arms away.
"You don't get to dictate terms to me. You cannot tell me what I must do or not", she yelled. " I'm sick of being at the receiving end...I get to decide if I want to say something, eat something, cry when I feel like, say what is on my mind. Not care that the other person disagrees...Who the hell are you to tell me how to feel, to interfere in my life? Everything comes back to you, doesn't it... I'm sick, sick, sick, of doing what you want me to be.", She threw the pillows on the chairs on the floor and dragged the table cloth off the table. The decorative bowl followed and made a resounding crash. It seemed to wake her up from her anger. She looked up, chagrin colouring her face. When she saw the look in his eyes, all the fight went out of her. She slumped to the sofa and leaned back on it, not caring if he was around or not.
It was an hour before she sat up, wiping her tears, taking stock of the room. It seemed to be what he was waiting for, because he stood up, and said briskly.
"Come on, freshen up. I'm taking you out." A cheeky grin flashed back at her livid eyes, challenging her to get out of her seat. But before he could do anything else, the fire died out of them, and she stood up resignedly.
"No, Vicky", she said resignedly, all fight having gone out of her.
He looked at her for a minute, seemingly lost in thought.
"So be it", he said to something that crossed his mind. Walking to the table, he picked up the keys she had placed there and pocketed them. Then, turning her walked up to her quietly and picked her up from the couch and carried her out of the door. He held her struggling form firmly and stood her near his car.
"You will have your way Meera. I'm not making you do anything you don't want. Walk away from it all for a bit... you want to live for yourself? Let's start now!". Saying this he opened his palm outwards to her. She looked at him disbelievingly for a while. Then slowly and hesitatingly, put her hand in his.
************
" I don't understand Geet, what the problem is. So what if somebody said something or crack a joke on me. Are you going to let that stop you from doing this?"
She had walked into the office earlier than usual. It was precisely that, which had allowed her to overhear what she did. True to the saying , she had not heard anything nice about herself...and had frozen on hearing what she did. It had angered her and embarrassed her no end. Her feet had moved wilfully to shut the gossip, but reason had stopped her. It would have done no good to say anything. It would have only encouraged gossip. She had turned to walk away, a burning feeling in her chest.
It had been a week since she had visited Khuran Constructions, and she had only witnessed fear and respect for Maan. Nobody had dared raise their eyes up to face him. It was her presence that made the staff bold to speculate and ridicule him, to poke fun at his guidance - and she couldn't tolerate it. Resolutely she had walked up to his office and knocked.
She argued back now...
" You don't get it Maan. It was so insulting... You're being degraded because of me! I can't stand it."
Maan opened his, a retort ready on his tongue, when his words died in his mouth. He stared at her, taking in her expression and then sighed inaudibly.
"Geet...", he said gently. "How is it that you of all people have this response to silly office gossip? You never gave a damn about anyone. I used to get into the gossip pages every third day, back in college. And I'm sure Vicky does so every other day with the Who's Who...but I can't let that stop me from doing what I want with my life. And neither can you. You have bigger worries to worry about. "
" No way, Maan. I know you'll sacrifice everything that you have to do to help me, but I have to learn to do some things on my own, too. And so I've decided...", she took a deep breath and continued, "... that I'll start going to Dad's office tomorrow onwards. I can't hide away and shirk the work there, forever."
There was a fierce determination on her face, one like he had never seen before. He swelled in pride. He wanted to tell her how proud he was of her, to hug her and tell her he'd be there no matter what. But, he stood silently, watching her gather her files and bags.
There still was time for that to be done.
Hey fellas,
Sorry about the typos, if any. I would love to read more comments. Do respond.
Love
Edited by mechantefille - 13 years ago
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
83