#1| IshRa : Meherbaan FF | Thread One - Complete. Moved to Thread Two. - Page 78

C H A P T E R 1 6 K A I S E M U J H E T U M M I L G A Y I

Chapter Edited by Dhara (@dsgirl)

It was days before their engagement ceremony that Subbu couldn't hold it in anymore. If one had to be asked, Subbu was seen running around taking care of every scene, making everything perfect to his level of perfection. And there she stood, calm as ever. She had smiled as he rushed around. "I trust you, and I can find no better," she had said.

When she was asked about all that was left, she had just given him a reassuring smile and locked her arms around his neck as she promised him that she'd be fine and she'd be there. I am yours, until the day you let me go, she had said. I'd never do that, you know that, he had promptly replied.

And it was funny how things turned out to be. Hilarious. The heavens were laughing at him.

His eyes registered as Ishita lay in the arms of the man he, Subbu, now refused to acknowledge ad her husband. The man held her in his arms and he pulled her closer. Ishita lay in his arms, she used one of her hands for support and with the other she hid the damn laptop behind her back. The man looked angry while Ishita smirked at him, not bothered by his growing fury. And then the unexpected happened, she looked into his eyes, blinked and then he leaned in closer and to that Subbu's world froze.

"The Lost Jewel is a Gothic fiction of Romance and horror that signifies the difference in one's ideologies with themes of loneliness, greed and obsession. The Jewels are different when it comes to Mani and Bhushan Saha, Mani is Bhushan's obsession (jewel) and Mani's obsession is her jewellery,"

"Just like you are mine?," said Ishita as she traced her pen along his arms.

"Ishu, you have your boards in two days. Do you really need to fool around?"

"I'm eighteen and ready. Obviously I can fool around, jaan,"

"Ishita. Study."

"Nahi hota hai mujhse, I've read Tagore's story over and over again, I can almost narrate it, so let's explore something better," she had suggested quite suggestively which earned her nothing but a smack of her textbook on her own head. She had pouted, glared and that's how Ishita's mother had caught them. Ishita hitting Subbu with her textbooks and the guy shielding himself.

That was the first and last time that Ishita had acted so "weirdly" with Subbu, and he would've sworn to god that it was the exam stress getting to her and God, help him if she had done it ever again.

Subbu had missed out on what had happened, all he could see was Ishita moving backward as the man moved forward. Ishita had playfully gotten out of his grip and he lifted his arms in frustration. Ishita had just clung onto his arm as they whispered something back and forth. With her pouts and his glares.

"Ishita. It's just a bloody laptop. Hand it over."

"Hand it over? Why it's just another laptop."

"Mera laptop."

"Toh mein kya karoon. Mujhe chahiye. Bas."

"Mujhe kya pagal kutte ne kaha tha? Jo tum jaise museebat muh gher li? Kitne bore din aaye hai, yaar."

"Pagal kutte ne nahi, bas dimag mein keeda gus gaya tha,"

"Keeda? Meri itne bhi boore din nahi aaye ki main tumse pyaar vyaar kar baithon. Keeda. Yeh tumhara Subbu hoga na yaha?"

"Mera koi Subbu nahi hai. Wait. You mean your accountant? Woh toh bechara tumhe Tamil sikhate sikhate khud Tamil bhool gaya."

"Kitne bad jokes marti ho. Kuch seekho."

"Tumhare draggy one liners se bhi better,"

"Tamil? Is pagal khane mein phans chala hoon. Ab tumhari alien language sikhni nahi hai mujhe. Aur please don't start on how awesome Chennai is. Dekh raha hoon. Tumhe And tumhari horrible choice ko."

"Aiyna waha hai, jaake dekh lo" Ishita puckered her lips and kissed the air at this statement, "Waise tumhe aadat hai ek torturous marriage ki,"

"Ek kam padi thi jo turant dusri kar li,"

"Badi soch samajh kar ghaltiya kar lete ho tum,"

"Trust me, I ask myself the same question every day. And not just once - I did the same mistake twice! Once a psychopath and the next time a neurotic lecturer. What is wrong with me?"

"Kuch bhi,"

"Ruhi, aa rahi hai. Chup chap yaha ao, nahi toh humari beti humein ghar se nikal degi."

"Manna padega, Raavan Kumar. Beti humne acchi banayi hai,"

"Acchi nahi, bohot bohot acchi banayi hai, and of course meri beti hai. Agar baap itna perfect hai toh beti kya kam hongi? Bas Ishita giri kam honi chahiye."

"Haw kya? Aadhi Delhi tumse pak jata hai, add another Ishita to the mix and everyone will start pitying me."

"Kaise baap ho tum? Apne hi pati ki comparison,"

"Compare nahi kar raha hoon, bas keh raha hoon. Ruhi ko meri zidd and tumhara sub kuch milke we've created heaven,"

"Agree." Ishita chocked on her giggles, "Tum bhi Ruhi se darte ho, mera baccha,"

"Darta nahi hoon. Bas, khatarnaak combination hai. Tum toh vaise ho, chudail."

"Raavan,"

"And, Ruhi ko banane me sare efforts mere rahe hai. Tumne toh kuch bhi nahi kiya, credit mat lo,"

"Cheh,"

"Birds and the bees ke barein mein nahi pata? Phir se sikha doon," the man had pulled her closer as she buried her face into his chest and playfully punched him in his abdomen with her free hand.

"Mama, papa and you, why did you'll give Adi bhaiya a talk on "Birds and the Bees", school mein teach karte hai," little Ruhi innocently batted her eyelids to her parents.

Subbu had spaced out all he noticed was that Ishita had taken the moment to hand the laptop over to Mihika and in the process had stepped over the garden sprinkler. The man had taken the moment to pull her into the garden, even gone ahead to use the hose handed by his daughter to spray Ishita with what was to be cold water. Their daughter had picked another and tried to spray water but had fallen back on the ground due to the pressure exerted by the water. The little child of four had burst into fits of giggles as Ishita had lightly sprayed her with water. Ishita had stood behind her daughter as they, together, sprayed the man with water. And this time around it was him trying to escape the water, until he held Ishita by her waist and sprayed water right over her head. Ruhi had jumped around in circles. And the family of three seemed happier than one could be lost in themselves as they fooled around on simple lawn, depicting the picture of a perfect family.

That could be you, a voice at the back of Subbu's head chanted.

It was Madhavi who put an end of the event.

"Raman, Ishita, Ruhi. Get changed now. Raman don't you have a meeting, and Ishita you're the sensible one, you know Raman falls sick. Like the time you'll decided that it was a great idea to fool around in the rain and your poor mother-in-law had to take care of the both of you'll. Ruhii, baccha. You know your parents aren't really sane around each other. You shouldn't encourage them," the older lady chastised her young ones.

That could be you, a voice at the back of Subbu's head chanted all over again.

****

Raman Kumar Bhalla turned his head and smirked at his wife who was staring at the ground as his mother-in-law gave him a piece of her mind. Madrasans', he rolled his eyes. And Amma just being Amma.

And if that wasn't enough, his wife had started muttering in Tamil. Raman Kumar Bhalla was in for a long long hour, he knew. But the funny thing was that he liked it. He liked her. He liked everything that came along with them.

And she held his hand, as their daughter tugged at her saree.

******

It was her grip on his wrists. The strength with which she pulled him. The emotions that played across her face. The tears that threatened to fall any moment. The wrist hold that was now their interlocked hands. Her hair as they swayed to her movement adding beauty to every step she took. The glance she stole to make sure that she was following her. The smile that crept on her face. Raman found himself returning to that December night where he met her for the second time. The fake snow. The borrowed laughter The midnight memories. The night that should have been long forgotten. How was he to know that the lady that drove him crazy for just one night was the one for him.

December 18, 2007

Raman Kumar Bhalla found himself wide awake at midnight. He knew sleep would evade him tonight and his demons would escape their cages. It was night fall, the time where his worst nightmares snuck into his reality.

He had taken refuge in the abandoned rocking chair moving it to the center of the room - it gave him a sense of peace, of calmness or even finality. He could still smell the stench of alcohol in his bedroom - his borrowed bedroom. Licking his lips he could taste the remnants of the bitter liquid he previously drowned his sorrows in. With his eyes closed he shuffled through his play list and at that moment no song could elevate his mood. He needed company, he mused. And company he would get. The irony.

He dragged himself to his bed - the perfectly made bed that he refused to sleep in. This is what his life had come to - misery, grief and sorrow. Gone were the days when he could just sit back and wait for the day to end so that he could return home to his beautiful wife and son. Gone were the days where he struggled to live up to someone's expectations and along with those days gone was the part of him who cared. Crushed. Crumpled. And carefully disposed of.

He was a broken man, he concluded as he changed into khaki pants. And broken men needed company. He hated the solitude. The eerie silence. On other days he would loved the lack of non stop bit today, his life felt incomplete without it. The rambling. The nagging. The complaining. The familiarity. The sense of acceptance. Did it have anything to do with his meeting with that lady he met hours ago, he didn't know. Though he was man enough to admit that meeting her for mere seconds, he had been reminded of home. Of the life he left behind. Of the base of the heartless man he had unknowingly turned into.

"Be brave.. You're now legally separated from Shagun." - Neil Pathak

Legally separated. How cruel was his fate? His wife, ex-wife, was one month pregnant with their daughter when she had cajoled him into a legal separation. 'We need a break, Raman. I've been stuck to you since the day my mother forced me to terminate my first child. The child I would give anything to bring into this world. This relationship. It's suffocating. I'm not happy. I need time, time to think over. Aditya. And now this child. I can't connect with either of them. The joy. The happiness. No matter how much I try or struggle it just doesn't happen. I need a break, ' she had wept in his arms and he hadn't known when their discussion of a separation had turned into a full blown argument and for once he hadn't pacified her. She had demanded a separation and he had walked out. A part of him knew that this was the end. A part of him still needed her in his love. The part that craved for her. A part of him knew that they would never work. That there was a different story altogether on why such a pretty girl would agree to marry a dud like him. Shagun. He had convinced himself that he was in love with. He fancied himself to be in love with her. But Shagun had never loved him. She had loved another. She shared her firsts with another. She had craved for another.

'I was pregnant. Abhi. I had seduced him on the night of our farewell. I deprived him of his first love for my selfishness. He never knew. He walked away. I never saw him. And I was pregnant. I tried my best to hide it from my parents. Almost killed myself whilst doing so. Until she found out, my mother. And the next thing I knew was that I woke up in a hospital and I had lost the swell, the feeling of another being inside me. I wanted that child Raman, that was the only thing that I wanted in my life of misery and no hope. You won't get it. You won't get what it's like to be deprived of time by either of your parents. To be seen as a problem, a burden. I had promised her that I'd be the only thing that she'd ever need and I had broken that promise. I couldn't protect her. And this pregnancy, it's too soon. I don't want to be a mother. So soon. It's too fast.' Shagun had wept holding a home pregnancy kit in her palms. He had been too selfish. Too in love to notice the cracks in her. He had talked her into having the child, promising that it would make everything better. He had been cruel enough to reveal her state to his parents - trapping her into a decision that was choice, leaving her without any options. He had been her ruin. He had led her to a path of self destruction. He understood that now. He should have known better. He should have protected his wife. Shagun. She had trusted him the day he married her. Trusted him to love, protect and cherish her. Love he did, he had loved her till her suffocated her in a relationship. And look where they had been now. If the first pregnancy was the first crack in their fragile marriage, the second one had been the deciding factor - the child that Shagun had never wanted. Seeing Shagun love Aditya, Raman had decided for them again. He wanted the child. He wanted the child he wished to be a daughter. A perfect family.

Pulling a simple white tee over his head, Raman found himself struggling to breathe. He had destructed his family. Placing a palm over her mouth, he tried his level to breathe. In and out. It did all but lift the heavy weight off his chest. He found himself falling onto the bed, choking back sobs as he felt his soul tear apart. If only he had known better. If only he had been wiser. If only he cared less. If only.

'Real men don't make women cry,' his mother's voice echoed throughout the room.

'You wouldn't know what it's like to be with you. You suffocate me. I need an escape, Raman. And it isn't you.' Shagun's voice added to it.

'Why does Mama cry so much, Papa?' his almost seven year old son joined in.

'Puttar, you make me proud. You wouldn't know the joy of watching your child follow your footsteps. You're my puttar.' his father's echoed through room.

Raman flung aside the nearest thing he could reach to. And within minutes the room could notice deciphered to be what it previously was - a perfectly furnished room in a respectable resort. Letting out a scream of frustration Raman picked up the nearest black blazer available, pocketed his wallet, iPhone and walked out, slamming the door on the mess he left created. Running his hand though his hand he walked into the elevator. He wasn't welcome there, he knew. He knew it from the way the ladies moved away to a corner, shielding themselves from him. He wasn't welcome. He shrugged as he instructed the elevator girl the floor in which he wanted to be dropped off to.

He hadn't expected to see her here. She was dressed in a full sleeved blue lace partially backless bodycon dress that accentuated her curves perfectly and ended two inches below her thighs, she looked ravishing. During their first meet he would have deemed her to be a no makeup person but here she stood, to prove him wrong all over again with perfected makeup and hair which was teased into perfect loose beach waves. She was truly a sight to behold. And it wasn't just him but every hot blooded male in the room would agree to him, he swore.

You just separated from your wife, approaching another girl is just wrong, the voices in his mind whispered.

"To hell with this. Didn't we agree that I need company, that I needed someone to talk to, isn't it she? Why would a girl like her sit in a lonesome club to he oogled by random men who were probably plotting on how to get her in bed," he argued against himself.

He watched from afar. As he sat in his VIP cubicle he watched as random guys hit on her. He watched her consider that as a bet won. She wouldn't shoo them away, not did she acknowledge them. Instead she sat there, on the bar stool below the flashing lights as she downed one martini after the other.

And in her he saw her sorrow. If he had chosen to hit on an old abandoned chair in the middle of a well furnished room, this lady had decided to sit in a room with people all around her. How different were they? And then a tear ran down her face, it hung onto her mascara lined lashes and then dropped onto her chubby cheeks, rolling down them and finally landing onto her shoulder. His previously spun stories seemed so unfamiliar. They had no meaning. Maybe she didn't have a family to return home to. Maybe she was alone just like him. Maybe she was a reject too. Maybe she was just like him. Maybe she craved for love and acceptance. If only he knew how right he was.

And within all the maybe's that crossed his mind, he found himself walking towards her. He found himself seated besides her. She had looked at him with her drowsy yet soulful eyes.

"Tum?"

It wasn't her drunk smirk or the smile of recognition that she gave him.

"Are you my angel? Ravan ho tum? Mera toh Ram bhi nahi," she had whispered as she choked on her own voice.

He signalled the bartender not to hand her anymore of those drinks she took pleasure in this evening. He sat there besides her as she held onto his hand, as she let her tears dry out, as she searched for another drink. As she blinked over and over again, in search of sanity.

"Why do I live? Am I alive or am I just breathing? You don't exist, right? You've come to take me away? So tell me, what's the point of living if all try to do is perfect the mask of normalcy. What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this? Wasn't I the proper one? The same one. The envied one. Did I deserve this fall when there was no climb?"

He knew it was the alcohol, and he knew her screams were barely audible in the blasting music. Instead he read her lips, he drunk the pain in her eyes. Pain heals pains as love brings forth love. Wasn't it? Maybe he could drink in her emotions. Maybe he could save someone and learn to live for himself. Tonight. Tonight he would live for her. And then she would be his last memory.

With that he tightened his grip on her hand as he pulled her off the bar chair and away from the crowd. She had laughed as she choked onto her tears.

Maybe this was really the end, she had wondered.

"Ramaan, I am bloody talking to you. Get out of the washroom now. Jaldi yaar. Ruhi is waiting"

And with that Raman snapped back to reality.

"Kaha khoye ho aaj, seriously, Raman," his wife stared her rant as he smiled at her. She handed over their daughter who had successfully been changed into dry clothes. Raman picked up the towel from the wardrobe and proceeded to squeeze out moisture from his daughters head. His wife entered joined the scene soon after sans make up, not that it made any difference to her looks. She had tsked at him and then proceeded to do the same as he had done with Ruhi. She had then blow dried his hair and Ruhi's and had then instructed them to go downstairs and have the 'kaada' prepared for them. Raman had picked up a scrunchie and then picked Ruhi by her waist and spun her around like the propeller of a helicopter which earned him nothing but an annoyed tsk from his wife as his daughter burst into fits of giggles.

Downstairs he was handed a glass full of bitter liquid as his younger sister-in-law poked jibes at him. Mihika had laughed at his state and offered to fix him, which he gladly complied to. Even Ruhi had quietly gulped down her medicine the minute she spotted her mother decend the stairs. Ruhi's mother had in turn gulped down her share of medicine in front of her Amma.

It was Amma who instructed Ishita not to trouble Raman and Ishita who glared at Raman who shrugged at the comment. It was Ruhi who pulled at Raman's pants asking him about the movies. He had picked his daughter in his arms and held his wife's hand as he instructed Mihika and Mihir to follow them.