~~ Banjaare Ka Ghar ~~
Come Home to Love
Chapter 4
(Previously: "Mein jaanta hoon ki mein bohot handsome hoon par itna gooregi tho nazar lag jayaga! Aur mera coffee ka saara ice bhi melt hojayaga!" teased Mihir, stretching his legs and leaning back on the sofa now. Brushing off her thoughts, Mihika laughed. "Bakwaas" she rolled her eyes and commented, pouring the coffee into the glasses before bringing the tray out.)
Mihir felt strange yet comforting warmth replacing the despair that had engulfed him till not even an hour ago, as he watched Mihika walk towards him. He did not realise he was grinning like a fool, till she spoke.
"Itna bada smile Mihir? Zyaada udne ke koi zaroorat nahi hai. Shakal dekha? Bilkul crybaby lag rahe ho! Pehle jao aur facewash karo. Warna bhoot bhi darr jayenge..."
He chuckled and got up, making his way to the bathroom.
He entered his bathroom, which was spick and span, just like the rest of his house. He splashed cold water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was tired, and eyes slightly puffy and red. But there it was on his lips, a peaceful smile.
He had never been popular, or anything close to the handsome' category in his school or college. There had been no love proposals from girls, and he was far too shy to ever ask a girl out. Although he was used to not receiving any female attention, he could distinctly remember the moment he had first caught Mihika lost in him. His heart somersaulted and did a victory dance whenever he replayed it in his mind, even today.
<Two years ago>
It was the end of the second day of the conference and he could not stop thinking about Mihika Iyer. Her eloquent contributions to the group discussion and the fact that she had read beyond her syllabus despite being a fresher to improve her subject knowledge, had impressed him greatly.
"No doubt, she would make a capable employee" he thought as he walked out of the office "...and a beautiful one too".
He froze. "What in the world is happening to you? You are a professional. They are college students, not you!"
He shook his head, adjusted his tie and entered the lift, with his back straighter than ever.
The lift attendant was on the phone.
"Beta, tum mausi ki ghar mein hi ruk jao. Kuch danda ho gaya hai. Auto,taxi kuch nahi milega. Kal sab teek hone ke baad hi nikal na, teek hai? Apna kayal rakhna..." the elderly man hung up.
Curious, Mihir enquired, "Chacha kya hua? Bahaar kuch problem hai kya?"
"Haan sir, woh poora desh mein bandh lag raha hai. Sarkaar ne kuch faisle liya hai...Amreeka se dhukaan yahan kolenge. Diesel ki daam bhi bada rahe hai. Isiliye opposition log naaraz hoke danda kar ke sabko pareshaan kar raha hain. Ab sarkaar ho ya ye parties...sab bas hum aam aadmiyon ke zindagi ke peeche padi hai. Hamara desh mein kya sab mar gaye ke bahar se dhukandaar chahiye? Waise bhi aaj kal ke jawaan log sab bada bada super market mein hi kareedari karte hain. Woh banda toh bijli ke keemat kaana par hi lagayenge na? Phir din raat mehnat kar rahe hamare hi kissan ko dosh denge...daam bad diya wo kar diya ye kar diya. Bas koi cheez apne ho toh uske kadar hi nahi hain hamare desh mein!" he complained.
Mihir realised he was talking about the reforms allowing FDI in retail and the fuel subsidies. He had read the news about the decision on his way here for lunch, and admired the lift attendant. He so casually spoke about income gap, the effect of globalisation affecting small businesses, and even increasing food prices. Well, this is India, the land of opinions, after all. And of course, there had to be riots organised within the day to showcase how much each political party cared about the public, though most of these protestors' would be almost entirely oblivious to their' cause and more interested in their payment and share of media attention.
As he got out of the lift and walked to his car, he noticed Mihika Iyer and her group mates standing at the lobby. He approached them and asked, "Hi everyone! All set to go back?"
Chitra spoke up. "No sir, I mean, Mihir. We heard there are riots outside. We thought taking a taxi back would be safer, but it seems no taxis are running. So we have to take the bus back. We are checking now if buses have been affected as well."
Mihir shook his head, disagreeing, "No way! All of you please allow me to drop you at your hotel!"
Another girl in the group replied, "No Sir, we wouldn't want to trouble you. We ca.."
"Please, if I don't do this, I can't be at ease. Please understand what I am saying! You're all new to this city, I would not want anything to happen to you..." he realised he was getting increasingly desperate in his tone. And more importantly, that he was looking only at Mihika. Mihika Iyer.
"...you you all. All of you" he completed his sentence, forcing himself to look at the rest.
As the girls looked at each other nervously, weighing the risks of accepting a lift from a near stranger they met only in the morning with those of trying to find transportation amidst riots, her voice cut through the awkward silence.
"Hum sab aapke saath aayenge Mihir. Thank you so much! It really means a lot!" she said with firmness and finality, with a small smile on her face.
He smiled back, with a hint of gratitude for her trust in him, and led them to his car.
He must admit to the twang of disappointment in his heart as she chose to take the rear seat. He switched on the FM radio to stay updated about the riots and tried to reassure his passengers as he drove.
"If any of you need to call home to inform your parents, please let me know." He paused for a bit and looked at Mihika through the mirror before adding, ...even if you need to call another state." She instantly stiffened at that, though she was still looking out at the roads. He quickly looked away, concentrating on the road.
"Kya kar rahe ho Mihir? Remember, professional!" he talked to himself in his head and glanced sideways to see if anyone had noticed his self talk. And that was when he saw it in the mirror. Her eyes were fixated on him, and there was a subtle hint of a smile on her beautiful lips. She seemed to be lost...somewhere...somewhere in his eyes, in him.
He didn't even realise when he smiled back at her reflection. She immediately shifted her gaze and looked out of to the roads again, but what he was sure was a blush was now creeping up her cheeks.
It seemed ironical. There were riots in his city and here inside his air conditioned car, his heart was dancing in joy. Yet, in a way, it was so fitting. The clamouring of his heartbeats and the noisy jingoistic slogans outside...the commotion his senses were in and the incessant sirens and shouting outside.
Thud thud thud'
"Strange...why do I hear noise even now?" he wondered.
Thud thud thud'
"Oho Mr Mihir Arora, andar facial karva rahe ho kya? Ab tera coffee ka ice melt nahi ho rahi hai?"
He smiled. If only, she knew what she had caused him in, that day.
He opened the door, to find her standing with her hands on her hips. He snaked his arms around her waist and rubbed his nose against hers.
"Oh hi Miss Bossy Iyer! Long time no see!" he teased.
"Acha?" she asked and hit his arm playfully. He caught her arm in his and they walked back to the living room, hand in hand.
End of Chapter 4
:= Home isn't a place, it's a feeling (Cecilia Ahern, Love, Rosie) =:
Anupamaa
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon
