Originally posted by: indi52
episode 63 
"time takes it all, whether you want it or not, time takes it all. time bares it away, and in the end, there is only darkness. sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again."
~~~ stephen king ~~~
he is not in a good mood. his face is closed, taut. his movements a bit jerky. something is on his mind. the phone rings. a terse, "hello!" then an angry, "agar conference cancel ho gayi hai, toh mujhe itni late news kyun mil rahi hai!" why am i being told so late that the conference is off?!!
tense music in. he throws down the phone, leaves office.
driving home, a call to lavanya. she tells him she's in the kitchen, cooking, sounds hassled. phone rings again. "hello." it's the caterer. all is good, but, "sir,uss khushi kumari gupta ka kya karna?" what to do about that khushi kumari gupta?
in a flash, a storm gathered, lightning streaked the sky; just one look in the eye and a jaw muscle had to move, that's all.
"tumhare paise mil gaye... baat khatam." you've got your money. end of story. the last two words spat out, rasping, cutting into the night. baat khatam. he throws the his blue tooth. end of story ... enough of this girl, but arnav singh raizada ko kissi ladki sa koi faraq nahin padta, so why does she bother him? why?
flashbacks start. on asr music. fast, furious, energy, angst, burst, heat, light. she hits him in the guesthouse, mad at him, pushing him back till he takes hold of her hands and turns her and pins her against the wall...
he saves her in the rain, both in a clinch swiveling away from the oncoming car... the car speeds...
cut to present... he slams on the breaks. jaws clench.
cut to memory... she's trying to run out of the store room, he races past her, slams the door.
back in the here and now... he gets out of car, shuts the car door with a controlled angry bang.
he's tormented, irritated, angry, "uss ladki ke baare mein sochna band karo," he admonishes his wayward mind. enough.
in a not to be messed with mood he walks into the house. a neatly wrapped gift in hand. perhaps a gift for the girl whom he can't give what she really wants. his love. anything money can buy, arnav singh raizada is able and ready to give. but that priceless feeling... alas no place for that in his life.
but who will tell the music that? and the confounded breeze?
the moment he walks in... do me so do, la la la la... and a waft of breeze rising. he feels it... 
she feels it.
mehsoos is not in a mood to be messed with either. an interlude between the two, while standing by themselves. this is awareness, a gift in itself; and it comes wrapped with music and air.
and as if on cue, the lights go off. he's tense as h,
she's scared, now that we know how scared she is of the dark, a claustrophobic air.
he is in the thick of that sensation... "woh yahan nahin hai. it's impossible." she's not here, it's impossible. (and why did i get the feeling that's not barun's voice.)
"hey devi maiya," she prayed.
he strode in and headed toward the kitchen where lavanya had said she was. absolute asr, hot, brusque, in command, stylish as anything.
"lavanya tum phone par bahut upset lag rahi thi... sab theek hai na.." he walks in asking after la's state of mind.khushi is there alone, facing the counter, shock registering on her face at his nearing voice.
no time to waste, he goes right up and touches her shoulder.
in that second he knows, no this is not lavanya.
hey hey... hey hey, their song replaces the forceful asr signature. a mix of joy, surprise, anticipation in the music, in complete contrast to her terrified expression and his widening eyes, truth descending upon him. yet a moment is stolen from all the anger and fear, and it is sublime. a pause where they let the music say things, feel things, and just are two people in a moment.
as though turned to stone, he stands still.
she turns. the lights come on.
music changes cadence... tense, rising. he sees her. she's nervous, scared.
his expression thickens to a snarl almost, he pushes her away. away from him. "usske baare mein sochna band karo." he is not giving in. what is she doing here. what? why? why is she always there. in memory, in the here and now? when all he wants to do is get rid of her from his being?
"di! di!" his voice rings out, angry, a whole outburst packed into two syllables, demanding an answer.
la walks in, "asr, tum itne jal-" "lavanya, tum beech mein mat bolna!" he shuts her up. rough, no nonsense, enough messing with his mind. and yes, this voice with zizz, rasp, energy, grain, this is barun sobti, no one else. the stinging stress on "tum." he's had more than enough of everyone and everything. even di gets a harsh yell, no one shall be spared.
la is fazed. khushi looks horrified, what will the rakshas do? he turns his face toward her and just one word as he lets his breath out. "out."
a tense exchange of looks. his eyes growing more furious, body stiffening.
"i said out!" caution to winds, full throated shout.
she looks at him, stricken, expression growing dense, packed.
at tear drop point.
no one said love will only make you smile.
"everyone is a moon and has a dark side, which he never shows to anybody."
~~~ mark twain ~~~
they have found each other again and again and again in darkness. like the brightest light ever it has shone the way to love. that first time he held her, he came out of the dark on a night of cloud burst and chaos. when he called out her name the very first time, it was pitch dark in that guest house, a storm tore through the hour, and she'd looked at him with eyes that saw other planes, universes, galaxies, he'd returned the look and gone with her for an eternity to unknown lands. diwali, the darkest night of the moon, amavasya, when they felt that naked, guileless passion and lit up the night. in their darkest hour, sitting far away from each other in quiet unlit corners, they heard each other from afar and spoke from their hearts, can you hear me... tum mujhe sun sakti ho? hamesha.
why this facility of the dark? perhaps when one sense closes down, the others sharpen? and help us fare inward, touch our inner world, which is essentially without light: a quiet, calmsort of dark? really, there's no 100 watt bulb inside, is there. what's around my heart? my gut? my mind? feels like those pictures of space, an ocean of darkness.
there was no light again when she finally let him make her his own, and made him hers forever, clad in black, the colour of dark.
so, scary and terrifying as these moments and those that come may be. they will surely find each other, that's really the agenda of the dark.
Cricket
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