Dil Jaanta Hai - Thread 2: Ch 21 (Pg 134) - Page 57

Granted they had agreed to be just friends. But he was damned if he was going to tolerate his wife wearing another man's mangalsutra!

"Yashji, please. Listen to me a moment" Arti said, catching hold of his hand. This was ridiculous and she had no wish to prolong this silly misunderstanding.

Her touch scalded him. But before Yash could react in anyway, Pankaj knocked and walked in, holding a shivering Ansh to his chest. "Arti, Yash!" he called and then stopped, looking from one to the other. He could feel the tension in the room, but he had no time to delve on it.

Turning to Arti he said, "Arti, Ansh fell into the tank as he was playing with the older kids. He is..." Before he could complete the sentence, the baby was snatched out of his arms.

Arti rushed to the cupboard and pulled out a towel. She ran back where Yash was standing, holding a dripping Ansh and she quickly wrapped the baby in the large towel. She took him to the bed and started removing his clothes. Yash went to help her and the two worked quietly together, intent on the baby in front of them.

Yash chafed Ansh's limbs, while Arti scrubbed him dry, unmindful of how rough she was, knowing the roughness would help the blood circulation. The dripping wet Pankaj saw the two working together and left, to change and to call the doctor. It had been barely a second, a second of unmind-fullness and Ansh had toppled into the tank. Pankaj had dived right in, intent on finding the baby and had managed to pull him out in less than one minute. But those few seconds may have been enough... If anything happened to Ansh he would not be able to forgive himself.

Ansh looked out at his parents through terrified eyes, his little body trembling in the cold, despite the thick blanket he was lying on now, with Yash and Arti scrubbing and rubbing him. Arti spared one look at his face and quickly looked away, her heart in her mouth, terrified at the potential effects. She could not lose him... she would not lose him.

Yash looked at his son as he rubbed him, the terror in his son's eyes driving him to continue rubbing, long past his aching muscles would have given up. No way would he let Ansh go. It was not an option. His son would live.

Pankaj Pankaj came into the room and touched Yash on the shoulder. Without stopping his task, Yash looked over his shoulder at his brother. "I could not get a hold of any of the doctors. We may need to take him into the hospital Yash."

The thought came to both at the same instant, and both Yash and Arti said together, "Ahmed!"

Arti looked at Yash then and nodded, taking over from Yash as he got up to call Dr. Ahmed Ansari. Quickly he filled in his friend and former client on the situation. He put the phone on speaker so both Arti and Pankaj could hear what Ahmed had to say. Pankaj noted down the medicines and left as soon as the call was over.

Their family doctor had finally called back and stopped by late that evening. Ansh's chest was clear, so there was no immediate need to take him to the hospital. But he would need to be under constant vigil through the night.

It was a long night. But neither Yash nor Arti missed their sleep. They constantly monitored his temperature, keeping cold compresses when necessary, preventing it from rising above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. He could barely swallow some fluids, and Vidhi made a weak, thin warm soup that Arti fed him through his bottle, one agonizing sip at a time.

Arti held Ansh in her arms as he slept fitfully - he was too restless if they lay him down. Around midnight, Yash took her place, taking Ansh from her and quietly insisting she get some rest. Within an hour she was back at their side, unable to sleep, unable to rest. They spent the rest of the night like that, taking turns holding Ansh, but neither leaving his side.

By morning his fever broke and when the doctor came to check him again, he gave them the all-clear. Finally, after nearly 18 hours the household was able to relax a little. An exhausted Arti dropped down next to the bed where the weary baby now lay in a deep sleep, and could not stop the tears that poured out her eyes. Yash stood next to her, looking at his son, his exhaustion drawn clearly on his face. He saw Arti's shoulders heave up once and then lay still - she was crying silently, he could not hear her at all. Remorse and a shared burden constricted his heart and he stretched out his hand towards her. But then he stopped. He could not... he could not touch her, not like this, not now, not till he knew what she wanted.

The next couple of days passed with the anxious parents still caring jointly for the weak, yet recovering Ansh. Each step to the path of recovery was a shared joy - when he slept for 30 minutes without being held, when he drank half a bottle of milk, when he sat up, when he laughed, when he called out to them and finally when he stood up, holding on to Yash's hands, his still weak legs wobbling under him, an anxious Arti hovering over him. They knew he was going to be fine when Payal came in to see him and he pushed her hands away, scrambling to Yash, staking his claim. The two cousins loved each other, but were always at logger-heads and Ansh's reaction was the most natural sign he could give them of his returning strength.

As Ansh recovered, the awkwardness between his parents returned. The stronger he became, the more distant they became from each other. Without the overwhelming worry for Ansh to tie them together, they seemed at a loss on how to deal with each other. Arti wanted to breach the gap but did not know how; and Yash was adamant about not broaching the subject.

Arti had managed to talk to Vidhi privately and tell her how the wrong mangalsutra ended up on her. Vidhi had looked at her in disbelief - "Of all the utterly idiotic things to do Arti!" had been her only comment. And Arti could only agree with her. She had removed her old mangalsutra the day after Holi, the morning when Ansh's fever broke; but before she could wear Yash's one, Ansh had cried out and she had rushed to him, the mangalsutra lying forgotten on the dressing table.

Now, she sat with the chain in her hand, fresh out of her bath, ready to wear it. And yet she hesitated. Not because she did not want to wear it. But because a part of her wanted to make a statement to Yash. She wanted him to put it on her...

She ran the chain through her fingers, sighing softly to herself, well aware that she could not ask him to put the mangalsutra on her - she had inadvertently blocked that budding comfort-level between them... Just then she heard a soft sound and looked up into the mirror.

Yash had come out of the bathroom and with her sitting in front of the mirror, he went straight to the side-table where she kept his chai nowadays. The sound she heard had been the clatter of the plate as Yash removed it from atop the cup and placed it on the table. He turned with the cup in hand and paused, his cup raised half-way to his mouth. What was she doing? Oh!

Arti could see his reflection in the mirror. Deliberately, she held the mangalsutra in her hand and holding his eyes with her own, placed the chain around her neck. As she struggled to clasp it, Yash kept the tea-cup down and walked over to stand behind her. She slid her hands down and lifted her hair, placing the long tresses over her left shoulder, leaving her neck bare to his view. Haltingly, careful not to touch her, Yash took the two ends of the chain and clasped them together.

He looked into the mirror then, straight into her eyes, as if seeking confirmation from her. Something in her eyes answered the unspoken query in his and he nodded slightly, as if in affirmation, then turned around and left the room.

Arti sat on, tightly clutching the pendant of her mangalsutra, a sheen of wetness in her eyes as she stared at her reflection. She tried to take a deep breath to slow down her racing heart - it felt as if she had been about to fall off a precipice and was pulled back in the nick of time.

She didn't know where they were headed, if their old friendship would be back. She did know however that today she had taken one step, one tiny step forward. A step into her future... into their future.