Concealed beauty - FF - Ch.4, p.8 - Page 5

03

"Shit! I'm really sorry, sir!"

Yuvraj bent down, grabbed the old man's shoulders and helped him get up. Inwardly, he cursed himself for his carelessness. Being lost in thoughts was nothing new to him, at least not since this past week where he had been doing nothing but losing himself into his own mind- it was as if he was walking through the world in a haze, his own thoughts surrounding him like a safety blanket.

But, damn. He hadn't realized how bad it actually was. If he hadn't snapped out of it as soon as he did... he would have probably caused that poor man more than a little fright. This trip was supposed to help him clear his mind, not make him commit murder.

"I really don't know what's wrong with me," he rambled on while he picked up the flowers that were scattered on the street. "I wasn't watching..."

"Driving and not keeping an eye on the street? I hope you're not suicidal, son."

Surprised, Yuvraj straightened up and turned back. There was no anger in the man's voice, nor any form of accusation - he seemed more amused than anything else! And truly enough, he was smiling warmly at him, a tint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. Now, that was unexpected. "I, uh... no, I mean... Aren't you upset, sir? I could have killed you!"

The man chuckled lowly. "And you feel bad for it, so, no harm done. Besides, death will come when it will come, why should I worry about near-death experiences?"

Yuvraj couldn't help a quiet, disbelieving sound to escape through his lips. How often did it happen that you met such strangers? Anyone else would probably have been at his throat by now, threatening him with a court case. "Nonetheless, I'm really sorry, sir." He handed him the yellow roses and looked back at his car before examining his surroundings. The street was completely empty, not a soul around. Yes, he knew why he had chosen this area to find some piece of mind. "Maybe I can drop you off somewhere? It's the least I can do."

For a moment, it seemed like the man was going to refuse the offer, he was hesitant, but after contemplating he nodded slowly and walked around the car toward the front seat Yuvraj was indicating. "It's not very far." He pointed down the road. "Just at the foot of the hill."

Frowning thoughtfully, Yuvraj, too, got into his car and waited patiently for his co-driver to put his belt on. Granted, he hadn't done much besides wandering through the forest that surrounded this hill but what was there at the foot? There wasn't any building or really anything there. Well, that was aside from... "I've only seen a graveyard down there," he said slowly as he started the car.

"Hm, how about you tell me your name first?" the old man suggested. "Then, I won't feel like I'm talking with a complete stranger."

Exchanging names wouldn't change the fact that they were strangers but if it made him feel more comfortable. "Err, Yuvraj."

"And I'm Sulayman," he received in return. "And yes, there's only a graveyard at the foot. I'm visiting my wife."

Yuvraj almost hit the brakes, not sure what shocked him more- the indication that Sulayman's wife was dead or the causal way he had said it in. Well, not really causal, he sounded content, pleased even to visit his wife. "I, err, I am sorry."

"Oh, it's fine," Sulayman laughed and out of the corner of his eyes, Yuvraj saw that he was smiling sincerely. "It happened many, many years ago."

A little uncomfortable, Yuvraj cleared his throat. "And that makes it any better? I mean, I guess you loved her?"

An awkward silence hung over them, making Yuvraj nervous although there was no need to be. He didn't like to talk about such a sensitive topic - he had never been that good with emotions and comforting others. What if he had said something wrong? Or if he unintentionally hurt the other?

"With time," Sulayman said, "the pain becomes lesser and the beautiful memories stand out to us. Or to me, at least." After a moment, he added: "What's left are good memories and... regret. What Ifs."

Yuvraj knew that it wasn't any of his business but he couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity stir in his chest. It wasn't like him, not at all, yet... "Why?"

Sulayman lowered his gaze, looking intently at the flowers in his lap. For the first time since their short encounter, the man seemed sad. Almost bitter. "Our marriage started out, well, complicated. Unwilling. Though, it did get better and we shared many beautiful moments with each other yet, I... I never told her I love you. I'm sure she knew it but still... not saying it out aloud is something I'll regret till the end."

When Yuvraj stopped the car just after Sulayman had finished his sentence, he felt numbness spread through his veins. To their right, there was the huge gate opened that lead toward the graves, but Sulayman didn't get out immediately. Instead, he turned toward Yuvraj and patted his shoulder, though whom this gesture was supposed to comfort Yuvraj had no idea.

"I always remind everyone to never forget to say what you feel for your loved ones. It could always be the last time you get the change to do so." With that said, he got out, a radiant smile on his lips. "And never forget to cherish the moments you spent with them. Anyway, thank you for the lift, son. May God bless you!"

Even long after Sulayman had left, Yuvraj was sitting in his seat unmoving, staring blankly at the empty street in front of him. From what he had understood, Sulayman had had a lovely relationship with his deceased wife even though their beginning had been bumpy. They had shared beautiful moments with each other yet, the man regretted to never have voiced his feelings.

And what about you? A vicious voice from deep inside him muttered. For Suhani, your whole marriage was a lie. What did you give her and what memories have you left for yourself?

No, he- "I can't think like that," he muttered to himself. If he thought like this, if he wondered about what memories of Suhani and their marriage he had left for himself, it was as if he was giving up. One thing Yuvraj had definitely no problems to admit was: He missed Suhani. He missed her non-stop chatter, he missed her teasing, he missed her presence all around him.

At home, he had felt it, too, but with all the stress there, his mother and Sharad being angry with him, Soumya irritating him and everything, he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything. But here, these past few days, away from home and the stress, he had felt it more intensely - the hole in his chest. Something just missing. It almost hurt physically.

Maybe, he had lost Suhani. Maybe she didn't want to see him ever again. But... looking back at the entrance to the graveyard, Yuvraj bit down on his lower lip and tightened his grip around the steering wheel. He had to try, at the very least. Tell Suhani what she meant to him. Try to get her back.

Giving up was after all something Yuvraj had never learnt to do.

*

"Papa, please. I don't want to talk about it, not now." Not ever.

"But, Suhani..."

Suhani turned her head to the side and closed her eyes tightly. Her father removed his hands from her shoulders and sighed dejectedly. She hated it to behave like this, to be rude to her own father but... she loved him, she loved him a lot. But this didn't change the fact that alongside Yuvraj and all the other Birlas, her father had lied to her, as well.

She had thought that she only needed some time to cope with her father's role in this whole game. That eventually, she would be able to look at his face without her chest aching too much. But... days had turned into weeks and still, she couldn't even think about forgiving him. She couldn't barely sit in the same room as him without wanting to bolt out of the door.

The tension between them, whether they were exchanging meaningless pleasantries or indulging in uncomfortable silence, was a heavy weight on her. Sometimes, she just wanted to let this weight bury her deep beneath it where she couldn't feel anything.

"I know what I did was wrong," Pankaj said quietly. "But I did it for you. For your happiness."

"How could you believe that I would be happy living a lie?" she asked, her voice quivering dangerously. "And how could you sacrifice someone else's happiness for mine?" Yuvraj might have wronged her by letting her believe in an illusion, but still her father had been unfair to him, too.

"A father's love can be very selfish," he murmured, so quietly that she nearly missed it.

A bitter retort was already on Suhani's tongue but she bit down on it and swallowed her reply. No matter how angry she was, she simply couldn't hurt her father any more - he was suffering by her rather cold attitude, she knew it, and wasn't that enough?

"Suhani-"

A soft knock at the door cut off whatever Pankaj wanted to say and made them both look over the room. Aman was standing with one foot inside and one still in the hall, a tray in his hands and a hesitant smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, am I disturbing?"

"No, not at all!" Suhani said hastily. That was her chance to escape this awkward moment - and besides, she had already been wondering why she hadn't heard anything from Aman, today. "Come in!"

With a still hesitant glance toward Pankaj who stood up from Suhani's bed, Aman entered. "Your mom said to give you this soup."

Pankaj looked between the two of them and forced a smile on his face- Suhani could tell easily that it was forced. "Well, I'll leave you two to it, then."

As he left her room, Suhani let out a relieved sigh. Was a little space and time really that much to ask for? She was sure that with time everything would be better. Not as it used to be but... just better than right now.

"Here." Aman sat down next to her and placed the bowl with the soup carefully in her lap. "I thought that today, I should visit you and see for myself whether you're really doing better."

After that night when Aman had found her sitting in the rain, Suhani had become sick- fever and a nasty cold. She hated it to be sick. But this time, it wasn't that bad- she found distraction in the messages Aman sent her throughout the day, whether it be asking for her opinion about one of his sketches, sharing random quotes with her or telling her how he had failed preparing food for himself. Being someone who was so used to personally talk to people to get to know them, Suhani was pleasantly surprised how easy texting with Aman was - they had known each other a little over a week but she felt as if they had been friends since years.

Though, it's probably better that we hadn't, she thought grimly. My childhood friends love it to change colors - and break my trust.

"Suhani?" Aman's gentle voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Staring into his eyes, seeing the sincere concern brimming in them, Suhani couldn't help but smile. Swallowing a spoonful of soup, she nodded. "Yes, of course, No fever and the cold's also gone!"

Aman tilted his head, smiling crookedly. "That's not what I meant. You looked out of it, for a moment. And your father... were you fighting?"

How does he pick up on these things? "I, err... It's not... well..."

Aman furrowed his brows and looked around the room before focusing back on her. "I'm planning to go on a photographing tour through the city, in a few days. Would you mind accompanying me?"

Surprised, Suhani leaned back. He had... just changed the topic. Because she was uncomfortable with it? This all seemed so surreal to her. She met this stranger on the street and found such an amazing friend in him - how could this be even true?

"So, will you come with me or am I not worth you company, your Highness?" he asked again, a teasing undertone to his words.

"Don't be stupid!" she laughed. "Of course, I will!"

"Great! Also," he added, "there's this exhibition coming up. They were looking for a good catering and I suggested you."

Suhani choked, her throat burning from both the soup and her coughing. Aman was at her side, taking away the bowl before she could spill anything. "Woah, careful! Are you okay?"

"Are you serious?" she ignored his question and turned towards him. "I'm not even a professional cook."

Aman put the bowl on the nightstand next to the bed and shrugged. "I got a taste of your cooking skills on that first morning- you're amazing. Why haven't you ever thought about taking it up as a profession? Open your own restaurant or something?"

Because I never really considered it. She loved cooking and baking but... if she took it up as a profession, wouldn't it lose some of its charm? That has always been her concern and the one reason why she refused be become a cook. Though... it was worth a thought, wasn't it? And maybe she needed distraction from her life. Something to do. To feel free and independent.

"I will think about it," she finally answered - and Aman gave a blinding smile in return.