One Shot
That day. That moment. Those people.
It's funny that all people want is magic and when it actually comes to them, they either don't recognize it or refuse to believe in it. All he wanted was to make HER feel the magic that she bought him and show her how grateful he was to just be with her, All she wanted to do was to just spill those three words which would bring the man himself to her and stay close to him for as long she lived, she couldn't hope for forever, it didn't exist. A realist like her would know but what reality exists when a woman is in love?
What they both felt was nearly paroxysms of love for each other, so uncontrollable sometimes that it engulfed them as a whole and united them as one, even if in imagination. If she could, she would have Googled every book that gave tutorials to shy people on how to express love for an equally shy person. Come think of it, she could do it on her own very well. She had made a list of what could nearly impress her man. What did he like? What could she do that was fun and she won't end up making a fool of herself? What could she try that wasn't fatal to her own life and would manage her to win what she most desired, his heart? The answer came down to just one: Cooking. There was just one problem- The answer to all the above mentioned questions with cooking was a big YES! He loved cooking, she would end up making a joke on herself, It was fatal to her life and she could choke on the gas and the smell of spices or overcooked sugar. But, would it manage to win his heart? Hell yes.
Chaturi's scream just woke him up from his slumber. After pondering so much on his love, his head decided he needed some sleep but then again, was it possible with Chaturi around. Her name, opposite to her personality, had guaranteed a life full of adventures around. Chaturi was doing nothing but screaming her lungs out for an equally useless rat in the house.
He then became aware of the notebook in his hands and his handwriting sprawled out in front of him like scratches on a car. He was learning the English alphabet for HER. He could show that the crafty artisan could also change for her, the way SHE did for him and the family. It was nearly the big day, or rather the big night. Showtime for his hard work. He had to quickly hide the notebook lest Chaturi the great saw it and blabber it all out in front of Bhabho or worse, His love.
Later that night, SHE had called him to his own sweetshop, finally doing what mattered the most. She had very creatively presented to him her own handmade Jalebi that he loved, only the design was different, it spelled his name. Suraj. And HE, who thought his own gift would be special, was so touched that it rendered him speechless, motionless and stilled his eyes to her face, for a very long time. When she blushed and asked to reveal what was in his own hands, tied at his back, he couldn't think of a reply and muttered that it didn't matter anymore. Soon when he could no longer hide it, he showed his notebook to her and said- "Every word here is true." His own broken English, his handwriting had made the page so alive that she kept touching the words imprinted on the paper as if it could magically come alive and speak to her.
It was written- Sandhyaji is my beautifull vife.
She gaped and a lone tear escaped her eye, she didn't even bother correcting his spellings which in a normal situation she would have done, she corrected just one word and articulated -"Sandhya. Its Sandhya for you, it always will be. Sandhyaji makes me feel that we are standing there, just from where we begin our journey. I believe that we have travelled quite far from there, haven't we?"
He just smiled. Words weren't necessary anymore. He pulled her in his arms and she knew. It's a universal truth. Sunrise and Sunset. Different natures but never apart. Near and Far. Disjointly joint. Inexistent without each other. Suraj and Sandhya.
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