What must have been a long seven hours seemed as a stretch of blur and his thoughts were merely still, almost translucent in that state, if he could discount the times a spur of concern surfaced to check up on her in the seat next to him. He acted on those freely when she either slept or gazed outside, unintelligible to him, what of the zipping car or truck or a passing town consumed her attention in whole, without another tear drop through the rest of the way.
It was late afternoon when they made it back to the city and just when he was nearly close to expressing a sigh of relief at their safe arrival, she collapsed without having shown any former signs of exhaustion. He'd been right behind her, waiting for the elevator at the garage level, when her head lolled back and he caught her, steadying by her forearms, taking her weight onto him and have her lean against his shoulders. Neither Meera or he reacted much to her fainting, as if they had known it all along when she'd only survived on nibbles of cereal bar since the previous morning. When the elevator arrived, he had but little choice to carry her in his arms to their apartment.
That instance, though she had drifted far, far from him, he couldn't help his pondering that may be there was more to how her hand nestled against his chest and before he could take comfort in the rumination, he adjusted her weight in his hold and her hand slid right onto the curve of her waist
Just as always, he thought, fate was ill-disposed towards his little nuggets of solace before they took any form.
As he laid her on the bed, his phone rang and he knew avoiding his Daadi's call anymore than he'd already done only meant trouble. Telling Meera that he will be back soon, he left to attend to his Daadi's woes first.
When he usually refused to answer much of her inquiries about his long disappearances at work, he knew this time had been the longest and there was no getting away from her. Assailed by guilt, he came up with a few convincing answers to put Daadima's concerns to rest and later, shut himself in his room for a hot shower and a change of clothes.
He left just as soon as he'd come into the apartment and much to his Daadima's inquisitive stares, he ambled past her in old jeans and a shirt, rousing her untold suspicions again. But, all that evading seemed pointless when he noticed Yash shut the door of their apartment, even as he got out of the elevator.
"They both crashed, MK." Yash said, twisting the lock after him, "That tells me you should too"
"Yeah! I was about to," he hesitated to ask after Geet, but Yash saved him the trouble and told him just what he wanted to hear.
"I got them both some idlis from Saravana Bhavan. Geet didn't have much of an appetite, but what small bits she managed will at least keep her from fainting again. And..." Yash drawled, his eyes giving away his gratitude before he could put it into words and eventually placed a hand on his shoulder, "Thanks! MK...Thanks for everything. I was able to sleep last night only because you were with them."
"I know," he said nodding,"Don't mention it," and they parted for the night.
That October evening, there weren't any lights outside to keep him awake as the night clouds rolled in and the fatigue too must have bundled him into the thick of slumber in no time, but it was something else that kept him up from letting his eyes shut, despite the languor his eyelids accrued with the passing hours.
In the end, it must have been a compromise with the disquiet inside him, for when his phone buzzed a short second under him - he had rolled over it when he'd fallen asleep - it felt as a zap in his semi-sleep state. A haze, at first; he found the phone and sat up with a sudden surge of life in his eyes, when he saw that it was a missed call from her. He called her right back though it was close to midnight.
"Geet! Where are you?" being his first question and his nerves went taut when the background noise was unlike what it should be, had she been in her apartment.
"Chath pe..." she said, her voice a meek whisper, "Can you come over? I want to meet you..."
He didn't need her to tell him what she meant by Chath and he liked that she referred to it as Chath - instead of sit-out - making it more personal, when the common area was impersonal at best.
"I will be there...Give me two mts," he said and he heard her 'Ok' before the line went dead.
He made quick work of the buttons as he made it past his Daadi in the living room - her eyes narrowed at him as if he was a prisoner on parole who was up to no good these few weeks - in a slack pace which could only be contrived.
As the elevators doors opened at the Gym floor, he identified the sound that had drowned out her voice as the whoosh of the winds that seemed to have suddenly gone rogue, shedding all of its gentleness from that same evening.
She was close to the sit-out entry, although, to the side of the wall with her hands resting over it. He'd hardly stepped outside the lobby when an abrupt downpour began, wetting them to the bone in seconds. Shit! An umbrella...
Her stillness, in spite of the large drops that fell from the sky, wouldn't let him go back for an umbrella, nor could he any longer be persuaded to take cover from the pelting rain. The grey aura that the night lent to her aloofness was in itself a draining sight on him and he took a few quiet steps towards her and leaned on the parapet wall. Another minute went by before she realized his presence there and it was also then, she seemed to become aware of the rain she'd been standing in.
"Oh!...Maan," she tipped her head back and cast a look at the sky before she shifted her eyes to him, "I'm sorry...Let's go...I wasn't aware..."
"It's fine," he raised his voice to be heard over the splat of the rain, "We are here now. Are you ok?"
She nodded. "I just wanted to say thank you. Or may be I can't ever thank you enough for all that you have done," she said, as her voice sounded hushed, an untoward tremble in it, "I didn't know how it happened, but Meera told me that you had to carry..."
"It's ok and I would rather you not bring it up another time, or buy your way into getting me those taffies that threaten me into taking a dentist appointment"
"You ate," she said and her lips caught a smile.
And it was disbelieving the relief that spread through him seeing her smile for the first time in days, albeit it was short-lived when her body shuddered from the smile and gradually transformed into full-blows sobs.
"I'm sorry," she said wiping her face as thin streams of rain water mixed with her tears, "It seems, these days, I smile only to end it with a good cry. My laughing and crying are like twins joined at their hip; one follows the other closely."
Her lashes were thick with raindrops as the rain gentled its course and she turned away to sit on the pool chair. Running a hand through his hair to keep them from falling over his forehead, he followed suite and sat a little father from her on the same chair.
He leaned towards her, his elbows resting on his knees, "As long as you are still smiling first, it works for all of us..."
She faced him and the manner in which she silently sniveled told him, that her sobs were receding back to the rawness that ever stood ready of showing itself out.
"Take a few days off, if you think that will do you good. Cry your heart out; no one will stop you," he said and she tucked a wayward strand behind her ear, "But you will be at the office the next day after that. I have some interesting work lined up with Scott for you..."
It was as though the rain too had a place in their conversation that night, rising or falling in its cadence, and neither treated it as if it was anything that needed to be taken shelter from.
Once again, she gave him a weak nod of agreement. He saw, she was drawn into something in that instant and he observed she'd shifted ever so slightly to mirror his posture and in-turn had leaned towards his too.
A lightening crackled far in the horizon and in that flash of light, it came clear to him that her eyes remained fixed at his joined hands. In that same moment of realization, he sensed her hand slide through his palm and she threaded her fingers with his. Uncertain, she met his eyes, but his gaze could only take in her hands laced with his, her fingers light in their hold
Almost, half in doubt, half needing the same, her fingers stirred, ready to pull out, but that was nearly unthinkable in some way and he pulled back on them, pressing each of his finger into the back of her hand, and her clasp remained, slowly settling into the curve between his fingers. Her shoulder moved a bit forward and as if it was the only natural thing that could follow, she placed her head on the edge of his shoulder and closed her eyes, drawing in a breath as she did.
And he couldn't tell who drew more comfort off the other then, like a long wait had ceased to be.
He hadn't seen that moment in the making, but with its coming into being, it appeared as though the knowledge of it had awaited out, under the surface of such moments he had held her hand - but never quite like this and this one would never compare to all those that had gone by or those that might be of the future. Unlike the others, this one fragment of time had its own place without bearing any existential qualms as they did.
That and the murmur of the things which flitted across his mind- nascent and yet evanescing at their occurrence. A rustle; a close; a quickening; a move of her finger; the beat of a pulse; a drip; a touch of the wind; the sound of a breath; a blaze of light; the shower that turned a drizzle; the blue of the night and the gray of the time.
Amongst it all, there was also him. And there was her.
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