Dil Jaanta Hai - Thread 2: Ch 21 (Pg 134) - Page 74

Everything Vidhi told her left Arti restless….restless and sad. Grief she knew well, it was an old acquaintance, nay, an old house-mate. But the guilt – she could only imagine the guilt the Scindias felt, especially Yash. Her heart wrenched in sympathy for the family…..now her family too, she realized with a start.

Her overhwleming thought and care was for Ansh though. What a start to his life, Arti thought as she stood looking at him while he slept. Deprived of his parents' love, even though they were there…..At least her claim to being an orphan was genuine – she didn't even know her parents, she had been abandoned as a day-old baby. But Ansh had been surrounded with family – and yet, he had been an orphan.

Arti clenched her fists as the years-old hurt of being abandoned raised its ugly head again. No more. Ansh would never be abandoned as she had been… as he was those first few weeks. She would make sure her son had his parents' love, their care, their attention.

Yash walked into their room later that night. He had dropped them home after the barsi and then left, without a word to Arti about where he was going. She had been intent on finding Vidhi and his leaving without a word had not bothered her. Now, for the first time, she looked at him, really looked at him, taking in all the details of his weary, disheveled appearance.

His craggy face was drawn, even more gaunt than usual. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair stood on end as if he had raked his hands through it. He was still wearing the white kurta-pyjama from the morning, but the pristine white was now stained and crumpled. His exhausted face and bleary eyes told their own tale.

"Yashji?" At the soft enquiry, he looked up at her. And her heart melted at the lost look in his eyes, a look she knew well, one she had seen reflected in her own eyes since childhood and which had returned with greater intensity after Prashant's death.

Knowing he barely registered what she said, she went to him and held his arm tightly, "Yashji? Have you eaten anything?"

He looked at her blankly and then his eyes slowly focused on her and he shook his head.

She pushed him towards the bathroom, opening the door, turning on the shower for him as he still stood dazed, looking down at the floor. "Yashji! Listen to me. Take a shower. Can you do that?"

He looked at her again, "Shower?" and then he turned his head to look at the streaming water. "Yes."

Arti nodded briskly and walked out of the bathroom. By the time she came back with a tray carrying dinner for the two of them, Yash had showered and come out. He looked better, but not himself yet.

Arti forced him to sit down. She served the dinner out in two plates and put one in front of him. He fiddled with his spoon, pushing the food around and after a moment Arti took the spoon away from him. She held his cheeks and expertly applied pressure to the two sides of his jaw, forcing his mouth open – a trick she had learnt as a teenager in her orphanage when she helped care for the younger children.

Yash's eyes snapped into focus as he felt his mouth being forced open. He took the first spoonful Arti gave him and immediately took the spoon from her. He ate the rest of the food himself, careful to avoid her eyes.

When they were done Arti picked up the dirty dishes and put them on the tray. As she started to pick up the tray, Yash cleared his throat. Arti looked at him and then straightened up, waiting for him to continue.

"Err…Artiji. I am sorry about this morning. I left you and Ansh here without a word". Yash looked better now, his color was coming back and while his eyes still had a lost, bleary look in them, at least the dazed, unfocused expression was gone.

"That's ok Yashji. You left us at home, not at some random spot. And you needed some time", she shrugged, "It's understandable. But, if you don't mind me asking, where did you go? You were gone a long time….."

"I went to Sanchi Stupa".

Arti was surprised, Sanchi Stupa was nearly 30 miles away. Definitely a tourist destination, but remote.

Seeing Arti's surprise, Yash said, "It was one of Arpita's favourite places. We used to go there often….. But after her death, I never went there again. Today after the barsi…." He trailed off.

Arti nodded, she did not need him to spell out why he had felt that overwhelming need to go to Arpita's favourite place. She understood only too well.

As she picked up the tray again, he said, "Artiji, I have to go."

"Now? Where do you have to go so late at night Yashji?" Arti could not help but ask.

"Will you stay with Ansh? I have to go to my studio. I…I will probably be a while" Yash asked.

Arti knew the studio was at the back of the house, taking up the entire length of the house. She had walked past the doors of the room but had never entered them. Now she asked, "If you don't mind Yashji, can I come with you? Can I see the studio?"

"Ansh?" Yash asked, not wanting his son to be alone through the night.

"I will ask Vidhi to take him with her", Arti replied. Yash nodded and as she bent to pick up the tray for the 3^rd time, he lifted it and carried it to the kitchen for her while she informed Vidhi. From the kitchen they went straight to the studio, Yash walking fast, taking long strides. Arti stayed a few paces behind him studying his back. She could read how his mood changed as he neared the studio….his tense shoulders relaxing as they walked away from the kitchen and then bunching up as if strung together as they came to the studio doors.

She entered the room to find an artist's dream. Every tool, brush, colour, implement that an artist could want was there, neatly laid out in its place, yet easily accessbile. She wandered through the long room, inspecting each cubby, box, table, admiring the the care with which everything was kept.

Yash went straight to the table where he kept the clay. He added water and kneaded the clay, softening it to the desired consistency. Then he took some and started.

By the time Arti wandered back to Yash's table he was fully engrossed. Completely oblivious to her presence, he continued working. She stood where she was, fascinated by the quick, deft movements of skilled fingers and watched mesmerized as the soft lump of clay was transformed into a beautiful human face. Yash did not have to harden the figure-head, or colour it – even in its current wet form it was instantly recognizable as Arpita. He did not stop till he had mouled the whole face, re-creating every crevice, dimple, arch from memory.

When he was done, he sat back and looked at his handiwork. And that was when the dam burst. The dam he had controlled for one year……

Arti watched as the man seemed to crumple into himself as tears poured forth. After a while as the silent tears continued she went to him and gathered him to her. He took an audible breath and latched onto her, finding the nook of her neck.

Arti just held his trembling body, not saying a word. She stroked his back gently as his fingers dug into her shoulder blades. Her mucles hurt, he held on so tight, but she let him without a whimper, instinctively recognizing his need for an anchor.

After what felt like hours, the trembling lessened and then stopped. Yash looked up and realizing his position, shifted back slightly. Arti's saree was wet from his tears and her shoulders hurt. She rotated her shoulder trying to get the kink out and Yash moved back slightly more as he stood up. His hand brushed against the clay figurehead and part of it crumpled, the flakes falling onto the floor.

He heard Arti gasp, "Oh!" and turned his head to follow the direction of her gaze and saw the figurehead that was now unrecognizable. A great sadness filled his being, but the tears were spent and his eyes remained dry. He traced the only remaining part of the face he had carved from memory.

"You can fix it Yashji. Remember how you had fixed the doll figures for us?" Arti saw the sadness etched on his face and said the only thing she could think of.

Yash shook his head. "No. It would not be the same." And saying so, he scooped the clay up and put it back in the pail, running his hand through the mixture till the figure had mixed back into the clay and no lumps remained.

They went back to their room, stopping at Pankaj and Vidhi's room on the way. The lights were off and they silently agreed not to disturb the other couple. As they lay down in bed with no Ansh in between, Arti realized that the earlier awkwardness was gone, at least from her side. Yash was some one who needed to be loved and cared for as much as Ansh. That was something she understood only too well. She did not know about love, but taking care of him – that much she could do.

And when in his sleep Yash reached out, as he did every night to hold Ansh, she let him hold her instead, and she too drifted off to sleep.

They never spoke of that night.

Yash woke later than usual the next day. When Arti brought his usual chai he held out his hand for the cup but she shook her head and nodded towards the balcony. He opened the door and the two stepped out. The early morning was cool, the sun's heat still muted while a gentle breeze blowed. The fragrance of jasmines suddenly filled the air and they both took in a deep breath.

Arti put the tray down on the table and sat down in the jhula. Yash walked over to the railing and leaned his elbows on it, looking down into the patch of flowers just below. He could still see the fresh morning dew on the white buds, glistening as the sun's rays broke through the morning clouds. He sighed and turned back. Remembering the tea he went to the table and picked up the remaining cup. Arti patted the empty seat next to her and after a momentary hesitation, he sat down.

They sat quietly, sipping the tea. After a moment, Arti wrapped her palm around the warm mug and leaned back in the swing. "I had a swing on my terrace garden in Delhi and this was my favourite way of waking up. Take a few minutes to sit on the jhula, drink my chai, and breathe in the fragrance of my flowers."

Yash smiled slightly, grateful for her choice of topic that was completely unrelated to him. "It is very pleasant. You should do that here too, you know."

Arti smiled to herself, She already did!

Yash continued, "I remember your garden. You had a lot of plants on that terrace."

"167" Arti stated.

Yash looked at her in surprise, "You know the exact number?"

She shrugged, "I knew each plant too."

"What happened to them? Who cares for them now?" Yash asked, curious for the first time about any aspect of Arti's life.

"My landlady cares for them. That is….if they are still alive". At Yash's raised eyebrows, Arti grimaced slightly, "She has a black thumb".

"What do you mean?" Yash asked.

"She just has to touch a plant and it will die." Arti let out a sigh, "I don't know if my babies even made it through the first day with her. I tell you, if our garden here is plagued with weeds, we should call her – she is a plant killer!"

Yash laughed out loud and Arti smiled, glad to see the tension wash away with the laughter. They continued in this vein till Ansh came running in, calling out in his sweet baby voice, "Mumma….Mumma….Mumma."