OS: Yesterday and Tomorrow: Rebirth--NEW! (Friday, July 26th, Pg 16)

AUTHORS' NOTE:  The Yesterday part is like a snapshot into the past, a parallel story line of what might have happened after Paro was taken into the BSD Headquarters by Rudra after the Baraat massacre. I'm creating a different next chapter in their lives. This series's topic is Rebirth. We will see how new lives are born, and how people are reborn, both in the past, and in the future.

Tomorrow shows what might happen in the future, after everything is settled. Basically you'll see the same "idea" before and after!  This tomorrow is on Rebirth.  If you are a reader of this series, you already know (from Tomorrow: Forgiveness) that Rudra and Parvati have twin sons in my future, and that Paro escapes an attack by Laila and gives birth to healthy boys in the future.

This story takes you back to the beginning of her pregnancy, just after Rudra and Paro find out they are going to be parents. I believe that the Jallad of my series would be as unable to instantly accept being a father as a fish would be unable to do it if you asked it to fly. But this time, I wanted Rudra to be a better man, without Paro guiding him to his Re-birth. Read on! Who gets re-born in Rangrasiya --yesterday, tomorrow? Find out! 

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     YESTERDAY AND TOMORROW: PART 12 (RE-BIRTH)      

TOMORROW- PART ONE: The world collapsed into itself, telescoping into just one point of light. Bathed in that eerie light sat just one creature. His wife. Sitting before him, her hands twisting in her lap, the way they did when she was anxious, when she was agitated and trying to hide it from his all-seeing eyes. The world pinpointed into just that luminous face, the huge eyes slightly damp, the forehead creased into waves of cream as she frowned slightly into his face. He found that he could not speak. He decided that right now he didn't need to speak, anyway. The entire world had concentrated, changed-- and a man needed a few minutes of silence to adjust to this new reality before him. He watched her now with a renewed intensity even he did not know he was capable off, not hearing anything that was actually coming out of her mouth.


He watched her cheeks heat with effort as she waved her hands in front of his eyes, trying to break their glazed expression. He sat, just looking at her lips as they moved into ovals and compressed into lines, as they stretched and formed words he could not hear. He watched her as she reached forward, finally, to cup his face into the warmth of her palms, as she lay butterfly fingers softly against his cheeks. A muscle against his mouth twitched at the glorious contact, but his eyes never left her face, never blinked. Like a swimmer reaching the surface, his consciousness finally broke through to the surface through his shock, to wake up in his new reality.


Paro's soft voice asking if he was alright, asking if he was upset with the news washed over him as he struggled to understand what he had just been told. He turned away from her, breaking the union of her hands to face the man in front of him. Another voice finally filtered through, as in the background the doctor hesitantly repeated what he had said four or five times already, to the shell-shocked army-man in front of him. "Major Rudra Pratap Ranawat...I hope you understanding what I am trying to tell you, Major. Please respond--Your wife is getting concerned by your silence, Major and frankly, so am I. Your wife is pregnant. Two months along. That's why she has been feeling ill. Congratulations, Major. You will be a father soon."


Paro glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. After the fourth time the news was repeated, the Major had shaken off what was clearly shock, and focused on the doctor's words. In a totally dead, emotionless voice, he had asked about follow-up visits, arranged for pre-natal tests, discussed diet, exercise and vitamins for Paro. His training had kicked in, as he flipped open his evidence pad from his pocket, taking minute notes and nodding seriously at the incomprehensible medical jargon the doctor was spewing to them both. Paro had watched the Major as he approached the next few months with the grim determination of a soldier planning an enemy mission.


She sat, almost forgotten, while the two men discussed the life growing within her as if it was an operation to plan out meticulously so as to avoid potential disaster. Dates to watch for, changes to note, visits to the clinic, what to feed her, when. As if she was a battle to subdue and win, not a new mother to cherish and love. Not a word of joy, not an expression of delight on his face. Just...planning.


Rudra grabbed her wrist to take her back to the Haveli with the exact same pressure he had used when he had brought her into the Doctor's office this morning. Now, his grip felt cold, clammy with sweat. Paro did not resist his hold, but for the first time, it brought her no joy, just simmering anger. This morning, his eyes had been warm with concern, as he had winced in sympathy while the needle took her blood. He had been so loving when he had scolded her for hiding her nausea for two weeks. But now, he avoided her eyes as he buckled her into the jeep. 


Something within her, something new, tender, something fierce and protective bloomed at this moment, as her husband did not speak to her as he drove her home. Paro had been feeling almost weightless, torn between joy and fear. After the news had been broken to them, the doctor had left the room to give them a few minutes of privacy. She had knelt before the Major, grabbing at his hands, almost desperate to connect with him as she absorbed the heart stopping reality. A child! Their child! She knew nothing about being a mother, nothing about seeing to a baby! Did he know anything?? Why did he not speak? 


She needed..she did not know what she needed. But she needed him. What he should be feeling, what he needed to show her to help her through this hour of change, she did not quite know. But it was not this silent, almost blank acceptance. This grim, unemotional planning. She needed reassurance, love, joy, delight. Fear, anxiety, hell, she needed his terror, at the unknown, to mirror her own worries, her own terror. But he had lifted her to her feet, then dropped his hands from her shoulders as if burnt from the small contact. She had tried to cup his face into her hands, tried to draw his eyes into her own. To share, to connect. He had looked over her head, asking if she felt well enough to go home now. His voice had been hoarse, but not with love, or tender emotion. Rusty, hard.


Stung, she had opened her mouth to scold, to plead, to cry. 


But as he turned away from her pleading face, collecting their medical file, she had closed her mouth, and stepped back. She would not beg, she would not stoop to asking if he was happy. The uncertainly gnawed into her, brought ready tears into her eyes as he led her quietly to the jeep. At first, as she sat silently, her hands twisting in fear, she thought, for panic stricken moments---what if... ? What if he did not want this? They had never spoken of children, what is he hated...? The anxiety flooded her throat, tasting like soured milk and salty tears. She almost turned bury her face into his chest as he started the jeep, as he avoided her eyes and started driving them home.


She almost begged him to speak, to hold her, to tell her what she wanted ...no..what she needed... to hear from him. To tell her that he was happy. They would go through it together, as partners, as a team. He knew for a fact that they would be fine. That this was a precious gift, something Bholenath had done to bless them both. But even as she turned to lay her hand over his, she stopped herself. 


For the first time, Paro listened to more than just instinct. Everything had changed, within the last fifteen minutes. She could not keep doing this. She would not be the one to always reach out. Be the one to always reach for his arms, to cajole him, to force him to accept things after they happened. This time, she would not make him give her his understanding, his support. He would have to come to her. He would have to be more than a wounded child, an unreasoning Jallad. 

He was going to be a father to their child soon. She could not do this forever. His healing--- it had begun with her, but he had to see it to the end, for himself. A child changed everything, and if he did not understand that it was time for him to realize his role, to accept it---well, she would not force it onto him. Things were different now, another life needed her now...and she had to accept this, even if he did not.  


Rudra delayed on the drive home as much as he could. He knew he had missed a vital opportunity this afternoon. He had done something wrong, not reacted like he was supposed to, or perhaps, reacted wrongly. He had made a mess of things, somehow, though he was hardly sure what exactly had done the damage. After the initial bone-shattering shock, Rudra had thought he had recovered quite well. It had taken him only minutes to focus on the news. Knowing that Paro would not understand the medical terms and information, he had tried to listen to the doctor's words, noting the essentials, making sure he was fully de-briefed on his wife's care.


He had tried to give Paro time to absorb the shock, avoiding her eyes, to make sure the uncertainly and fear inside him did not affect her at this very fragile moment. He had tried to not touch her, knowing if he did, he would squeeze the very life out of her body in his anxiety to hold her safe. Knowing his hands on her would lead to his arms around her, would lead to him collapsing in fear and anxiety before her. Thinking she needed time, he had given her the distance he himself craved when he faced a shock or a worry. Distance and space had always helped him to deal with life's shocks and uncertainties, after all.   


But there was a limit to distance. He had not given Paro permission to literally ignore him! Now, he waited for her to open the path for him, to make it easy for him to say something, to mend whatever he had damaged with her. Help him deal with his feelings, like she always did. He waited, a touch impatient, for her to show him the way---smile at him with her entire being, question his silence, demand his emotions, show her usual stubbornness and force him to react. Cry, even, so he could comfort her, and through that comfort, release some of his own tension, too. And for some reason, a reason he was starting to dread---she did not do any of this. The ride back to Haveli teemed with unspoken questions, with glances stolen at each others' faces.


The longest ride of his life. And, for the first time, she did not...help him deal with his the issues surrounding his heart and mind. Instead of looking at him, trying to get through to him, she was indifferent to his silence, his morose expression. Instead of touching his clenched  hands, she touched her stomach, tentatively, almost as if she could feel the flutter of life inside her skin. She looked not at him, but at...it.


He felt a green bolt of lightning streak through his chest, a flash of jealousy as startling as it was outlandish. That look on her face---the softness, the tender eyes, the tiny smile creasing a slight dimple into her alabaster cheek---that was HIS. No one else's. Her tenderness was his, it certainly did not belong to some small tangle of cells inside her flat stomach. HIS. He waited for her to turn to him, to be concerned by his silence. She stared at her own stomach, and he wanted to shake her hand, force her to look at him, think only of him. He watched her, out of the corner of his eyes, greedily absorbing the smile, the downcast eyes, the way she glowed with some secret power. Something he was not a part of. And...good God..he RESENTED the cells for making her...not just his.


This was not the same woman he had dragged to the doctor this morning. Finding her slumped over the toilet for two days, puking her guts out had made him almost mindless with fear for her health. The innocent that she still was (no matter what they did to each other at night), she had been completely unaware of what had made her this ill. But he had known, almost instinctively, what he had done to her through his mindless and addictive love-making. If he was being honest, he had half expected this to be the reason for her nausea, her weakness and lack of appetite. 

He had himself to blame, if he now had to share her with another being. He had not once used protection since the moment he had touched his wife, that first, glorious, searing night. He could barely keep his hands to himself when he saw her, even now. For six months, he had made love to her, and he had been insatiable in his demands. He had spent the entire time in a fog of need, lust and adoration, ignoring his practical side that warned him, dimly, of exactly this consequence. He had been too busy, learning her every expression, every desire. Telling himself he would take her just one more night, and then be sensible, that he had time to plan for the future. In the here and now, her every moan and cry had been another clue to his knowledge of her,  and he had been greedy, selfish beyond belief.


He thought he knew his wife, her every thought, every inch of her body.
But as he glanced at her, right now, he felt the first stirrings of a bone-deep uneasiness. It was as if Paro was not...Paro anymore. As if she had been reborn, right here, in his jeep, over the past few minutes. This was his Paro, but also...this was someone else's Paro, as well. This  version of Paro was both exhilarating, and panic inducing. This distance, this secret smile. No. She was his. He had done this to her, planted his child inside her, those cells inside her had better know it was HIM who had her first. HE created this smile. His Paro.


But she was now something else, as well. He did not know if he liked the change. A woman now, growing a life within her slender, soft body. Mysterious, celestial and human ---and wholly his? HIS. It made him want throw his head back with primitive pride, to roar in triumph to the heavens. His wife, here, with him. Carrying his child. Warm with his life force. But, somehow, it was unfair, too. She was HIS. Why did he have to share her smile, her body, her attention?  Why did she not look at him? Ask him to smile, ask him how he felt? Why?

Paro would have learnt exactly how childish her husband was if she had looked into his face as he jealously stared at her and at her flat stomach during this ride. But, absorbed as she was in her own thoughts, she did not notice the way his eyes stayed riveted to her hand, as she looked out the window, her hand unconsciously lying over where his child grew within her. And when they reached the Haveli, she unbuckled herself from the jeep for the first time in living memory, too impatient to wait for him to undo his own seat-belt and attend to her own. He emerged for the jeep too late to hold her back as she hurried into the Haveli, bursting with her news.


Major Rudra Pratap Ranawat watched helplessly, seething with a cauldron of conflicting emotions as his wife disappeared through the open doors. Without waiting for him to grab her hands into his own and lead her into her home, as he had done every-time they had left it for the past six months.

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Yes, Baisas--the Yesterday part of Rebirth is coming up next before the rest of Tomorrow gets posted.
Its for a good reason--please read the author's note!

YESTERDAY, (Rebirth) PART 1: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/109541723

YESTERDAY, (Rebirth) PART 2: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/110759783

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THE YESTERDAY AND TOMORROW SERIES-ENJOY!
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Edited by napstermonster - 9 years ago

simply superb
loved it.
very beautiful

Dammit! I shold have res first then read the OS, but I was too busy reading. NAHI!!!





Edited by -Zara- - 9 years ago

Awesome update...👏Have been waiting for sooo long!!

Nice to have you back.Amazing flow of words and feelings!!Looking forward to the follow up and wishing to see this played out in the serial as well.

I found Rudra's jealousy too cute. Especially whenever he posessively said 'HIS'

Amazing 

Only Rudra can be jealous of his own child, and then call him/her a mass of cells. Although it is scientifically correct, but still. That's his child. Glad Paro is letting him deal with his issues on his own. She has a child to look after. And he is going to be a father. So keep up , Major Sahab.

Omg OMG OMG ! At work can't read! So reswa!

Loved this piece and am floored by your writing. Rudra often reminds me of a man trapped in a child's body with his sulks, scowls, tantrums - the current track makes it all the more obvious. Now the way he reacts to fatherhood being thrust upon him is so predictable...the man has to grow up! I do wish the CVs borrow a leaf from your OS series and incorporate some of these ideas in the show. Hopefully the passion that oozes out of your stories can be seen on the screen too!