In Search -Powder FF (Epilogue up) - Page 14

Chapter XIV

The cup crashed to the ground and the murky brown liquid splattered across the floor. It was surreal, Brinda observed. Had she known it would turn out this way, she'd have never hoped…she'd have never loved. She would have settled with Vaibhav and buried her heart along with the past.

Usmaan Sir did not utter a word. He leaned back on the wall, looking at the two people in front of him. He had known that this would have happened one day or the other. He'd been tempted to transfer Mahendra to another department as soon as he arrived, but his regard for the girl in front of him stopped him.

Mahendra looked crestfallen. It was exhilarating, coming back to Mumbai, but it was now in the best of her interest that he take this step.

He was going to voluntarily resign from the force and vanish into the oblivion.

There was no other way for the things to turn out.

How could he hang around this department when he had been charged of corruption by its very own officers? How could he be so selfish and self centered to draw shadows of dobut on Brinda and Usmaan Sir's exhalted characters.

They had pure, plain images. Nothing like his, stained by doubt and tattered by ill repute.

His stay in the department meant that Usmaan sir had some hand in the whole thing that had taken place two years ago. While there would be nothing in the public media, but it may lead to speculation on the higher rungs of the government.

Similarly, if something transpired between him and Brinda, it would be plain that she had lied to get him out of the country, as opposed to the vehement denial of it by the department on Bose's behest.

"Yes Brinda, I have to resign. I have to go."

Brinda did not look up. Instead, she sat on the chair for a few more minutes. Mahendra's eyes dimmed as he watched her strong, resolute figure. It was cruel, no doubt to tell her this in front of Usmaan sir, but it was necessary. Doing it alone would have prompted confessions from them, something that Mahendra did not want to deal with right now. Or rather, never.

Brinda stood up. "I'll send in some one to clean this," she said and walked out.

His face fell. He looked at Usmaan to find the older man watching him critically.

"Tumhe use aise nahi batana chahie that, Mahendra."

He did not reply. What could he say? He nodded and left the room.

When he came into the outer office, her cubicle was empty. He bounded down the stairs, to find her on the curb, waiting for a taxi. It was just like the times in the past.

"Brinda please! Suno toh!"

She just turned in the opposite direction and started walking, her hair flying in the wind and muttering a string of profanities under her breath.

"Brinda!"

She kept on walking. He chased after her and yanked her arm. With blazing eyes, she eyed his fingers on her arm.

"Hath chodo."

"Kyat um meri baat sunogi?"

Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help feeling that this was right. His hand on his arm – it felt right.

"Hath chodo," she repeated, but the fight had gone out of her voice. It was tinged with sadness and despair.

"Brinda please."

She inhaled deeply. His wavering voice broke her heart.

"Kya?"

Her voice was soft and he could barely hear it above the din of Mumbai's night life.

"Kya hum baat kar sakte hain? Please."

She stopped the smile that was about to break out on her face. Mahendra never used so many 'please' in a single conversation.

"Theek hain."

He motioned her to a bench that stood on the pavement. She marched upto it, and he followed her.

Try as he might to avoid it, he had to do this. He had to tell her what he felt.

After all, it was now or never.

Reopened on the request of the topic maker

Thank you, Pari.

Chapter XV

She watched him with her characteristic earnestness and he could sense his resolve wavering. When no further reply was forthcoming, Brinda decided she had had enough. So she got up, and decided to walk away from him, and his life.

"Jab tum pehle office mein aayi thi, I didn't know what to do with myself."

Her feet stopped out of their own accord and she half turned, listening to him. His face was swathed in darkness and light, and he spoke on, in his low, deep voice.

"Tumne mujhe chauvinist kaha, and though it irked me, I found it funny. Jab hum Chambal mein gaye, tab mujhe pata chala ki ye sirf dosti nahi hain shayad. Aur jab tum rajasthan gayi, tab mujhe ehsaas hua, ki haan, main theek tha. Mere liye, ye sirf dosti nahi thi."

She bowed her head. He mirrored her sentiments, after all.

He walked upto her, and looking at her in the eyes, he said slowly, clearly. "Main tumse pyar karta hoon'par'"

She snorted derisively. "Par'Par kya?"

"Tum ye job pasand karti ho. Tumhar Mumbai mein ek jindagi hain, jo mein tumhe chodne ke liye keh nahi sakta. Isi liye, Brinda, isi mod par humari zindagiyan alag hone wali hain. Par main chahta hoon, ki tumhe pata ho, ki agar halat kuch aur hote, toh shayad humari zindagi alag hoti."

She smiled, her eyes watery. She wasn't going to cry. It had been accursed from the start. A guy with a slum upbringing, a girl with a sheltered Malabar Hills life. Him, with his street smarts and gun-happy attitude, and her, with an expensive college degree and polished English. Him, with his chauvinism and her, with the tendency to take even the most innocent responses as an affront.

And him, with a bribe charge over his head. And her, the officer who had arrested him.

It was never meant to be. But that hadn't meant that she wouldn't lose her heart to him. They had no future. In some other lifetime, perhaps.

It was time to clear the air, and come to closure. Her life awaited her. Her parents, her job, and'Vaibhav. She decided to try and forget him, and make a satisfactory, if not a happy life with Vaibhav. And he would do the same with some other girl.

"So, this is it?"

Weeks of tedious assignments, late night coffee and banter, encounters and interrogation and a frenzied quest to end Mumbai's biggest drug dealer's racket, it had come to a goodbye on the very streets their relation had begun.

She hugged him briefly and left with him their dreams and hopes that would never be. He reveled in her scent and the feel of her in hiss arms for a while, imprinting it on his memory and willing himself to let go.

He kissed her once, as a mark of the brief time, when she was his and he was hers, and so that she would remember it forever.

They disentangled, and turned, back to their lives and the long walk home.

Nicely written Pooja..

Epilogue

Twenty eight years later

Brinda bent down, a final salute to the man who had shaped her career and been a life-long inspiration. Usmaan had finally departed – as a satisfied but a tired man. There was nothing more in Mumbai now. She had resigned from the job years ago, before the birth of her daughter, who had made a new life for herself in Australia. Vaibhav had tried to make their marriage work, but she had failed to, and they were no longer shackled to each other. He parents had died years ago and she had not bothered to remain in touch with her relatives and the co-workers. She liked her solitude.

She got up, when her eyes rested on a man across the room. It couldn't be.

"Mahen?" she said softly, walking up to him. His smile was devoid of the cockiness, but was still playful. "Brinda," he said simply.

It was almost ironic. It was Usmaan, due to whom they had met. And again, the man had been the reason for their meeting, after all these years. They took their leave and walked down the road out of habit.

"How are you?" He asked, gently.

She just shrugged. "I'm fine. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. It's been what, twenty-"

"Twenty eight years."

"Did you…do you…have children?"

She smiled. "A daughter."

"And…Vaibhav?"

She turned to him. "Aaj bhi personal questions na puchne ki tameez nahi hain tum me Mahen!"

He laughed. "Apnon se kya chupana Brinda?"

She had to smile at that. "Divorced. It's been almost thirteen years."

He looked pained. "I…didn't get married."

She looked away. It was too painful to talk about the past that could have been.

But there was no restriction on the future, was there?

"Mahen?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?"

Hi pooja,kaise ho?Samajh nahi aa raha kya likho, itne dino baad comment kar rahi ho.Clg ki vajah se itne dino se comment nahi kar pai.
Mahida apne apne raste...Last hug...Ek dum perfect ending...Kyuki asli maza toh tabhi hata jab hero-heroine mil pate.Na mil pane ka dard...Aur yahi to sacha pyaar hota hai...Jab do log mil nahi pate...Na kabhi milenge.,fir bhi ek dosre se pyaar karte hai...Mahida...Never meant to be...
I miss those old days...Woh feeling jo mahida ko lekar hoti thi n our powder form frs