Back at the hotel, Akshay immediately headed for the washroom to wash off the yellow powder and change. When he emerged, he was shirtless, wearing only his pajama pants using a towel to dry his hair.
He stopped short when he saw Aaravi standing in the middle of the room, holding a small bottle of oil and she was looking flustered.
"Kya hua?" he asked, tossing the towel onto a chair.
"Main... uh..." She held up the oil bottle. "Maine socha tumhe massage chahiye hogi. Tumhare arms aur shoulders must be tired. Three hundred steps. Carrying me. So I thought..."
Her voice began to trail off and her cheeks were pinkening, and she was keeping her eyes on his face and not looking at his bare chest.
Akshay looked at the oil, then at her, then seemed to realize he was shirtless. His ears went slightly red.
"Aapko... Aapko karne ki zaroorat nahi hai—"
"Main karna chahti hoon," she said quickly. "Please? As a thank you? For carrying me?"
He hesitated, then nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Aaravi approached him nervously, opening the oil bottle.She poured some into her palms,, then placed her hands on his shoulders.
His skin was warm and his muscles were solid.She could feel the tension in them, the strain from the climb, and she began to knead gently, working the oil into his skin.
"Yeh theek hai?" she asked softly. "Zyada hard toh nahi?"
"Nahi," his voice was slightly rough. "Bilkul theek hai."
"Aapne yeh kaha se seekha?" he asked after a while.
"YouTube," she admitted. "Maine videos dekhi thi. Achi lag rahi hai?"
"Haan," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Bohot achi."
Emboldened, she moved her hands down his arms, massaging his biceps, his forearms, silently marveling at the muscles that had carried her up three hundred steps without faltering.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Aaj ke liye. Ritual complete karne ke liye. Even though... even though tumhaari pair mein lagi thi."
His shoulders tensed under her hands. "Woh kuch nahi tha—"
"Akshay, maine blood dekha tha. On the steps. You don't have to pretend in front of me"
"Minor tha. Bas ek chhota sa—"
"Dikhao mujhe."
"Aaravi—"
"Dikhao," she said firmly, moving around to face him. "Abhi. Tumhara pair."
He sighed but didn't move. "Zaroorat nahi hai—"
"Akshay, please—"
"Nahi dikhaunga," he said, and there was no room for argument in his tone.
Aaravi's eyes narrowed because she is a ziddi woman.
She bent down, reaching for his foot, but the moment her fingers got close, his hand shot out and caught her wrist.
"Mat chhuo," he said sharply, his voice taking on an edge that made her freeze.
She looked up at him, startled by his tone. "Kyun? I just want to—"
"Maine kaha na mat chhuo!" His grip on her wrist tightened, "Aaravi, seriously, leave it."
"Par tumhe pain ho raha hai! Main sirf—"
"Main apne aap dekh loonga!" His voice had risen at her. "Aapko har cheez mein involve hona zaroori hai kya? Biwi ho toh kya.. kuch bhi karlegi!"
The words stung. Aaravi pulled back, hurt flashing across her face. "Main bas help karna chahti thi—"
He saw her expression and immediately his face softened,. "Aaravi, wait, I didn't mean—"
But she'd already turned away, blinking back the sudden burning in her eyes. She was being silly, getting emotional over nothing, but his sharp tone had pierced her within.
"Aaravi," his voice was gentler now. "Come here. Please."
"Nahi, it's fine. Tum sahi ho. Not my business. Tum apne aap—"
"Aaravi," he caught her wrist again, this time gently, and tugged.
She lost her balance, or maybe he pulled a little harder and suddenly she was tumbling forward, landing in his lap.
"Akshay!" she yelped, but his arms came around her securely, keeping her there before he gently set her on the bed.
"Sorry.. Woh balance ka thoda issue.." he rubbed his neck sheepishly as she glared at him.
"I'm sorry. Maine woh tone mein nahi bolna chahiye tha. Par... par there's a reason main nahi chahta aap mera pair chhuo."
"Kya reason?" she asked, confused, looking at his face.
He looked uncomfortable now, almost embarrassed. " Mere hisaab se wives are not supposed to touch their husband's feet. It's considered... disrespectful. To the relationship. To the bond."
"Kya? Par—"
"Pair chhuna means you're putting yourself below that person," he explained. It's a gesture of touching someone's feet who you consider above you. Guru, parents, elders. Par husband-wife? Equal hain. Partners hain. Toh aapko mera pair nahi chhuna chahiye. Never. Samjhi?"
Aaravi's heart did something complicated in her chest. "Toh... toh tumne mujhe isliye roka?"
"Haan," he said simply. "Aur main jaanta hoon agar aapne dekh liya ki kitna bura wound hai, toh aap insist karogi cleaning karne ki, bandaging karne ki, and through that you'll be touching my feet. Toh better hai main khud kar loon."
"Par you're hurt! mai aapka aashirwad thodi le rahi hoon, I'm just caring for you—"
" ji swami ji pati paramveswar thodi kar rahi hoon!" she pouted.
"Arrey I know that, Aur main capable hoon apni care karne mein," he said gently but firmly. "Please, Aaravi. Let me do this."
She glared at him, and at the stubborn set of his jaw, but she also noticed the gentleness in him.
"Fine," she resigned . "Par main yahaan wait karungi. Aur agar tumhe help chahiye bandage kholne mein ya—"
"I'll be fine," he promised, then paused. "Thank you. For the massage. And for caring"
The piece of sharp stone had cut deep into the arch of his foot, and watching him deal with it alone made her chest ache as if it had hurt her.
But she'd promised to let him handle it, so she sat on her hands to keep from interfering.
He was wrapping the bandage around his foot when Aaravi made a decision.
Quietly, she slid off the bed and approached him.
"Aaravi—"
"Main bas yeh kar rahi hoon," she said, kneeling down and gently taking the end of the bandage from his hands. "Tum properly nahi kar sakte iss angle se. Just... let me finish this part."
He owas watching as she carefully wrapped the bandage around his foot with practiced hands perhaps due to with her father.
"I know what you said," she interrupted quietly, looking up at him. "Par yeh healing touch hai. Care hai. Worry hai. I'm not putting myself below you. Just... just your wife making sure you're okay."
And then Akshay sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips because of her.
And then, before she could move away, he reached down and gently touched her feet, then he touched his forehead.
She froze. "Akshay, kya—"
"Equal hai na?" he said simply, looking at her with those beautiful green eyes. "Aapne mera pair chhuna, toh maine aapka. Dekho hogaya balance."
"Yeh... aap... kuch bhi.. Maine waise nahi chua tumhaara pair. —"
"Crazy man" she said.
"Haan, probably, aapse seekha hu" he agreed.
"Chalo," he said roughly. "Aap rest karo. Long day tha."
"Tumhe bhi rest chahiye—"
"Aaravi—"
He sighed switching off the hotel room light, and pulling the covers over both of them. They both kept their usual distance when sleeping, but she gently moved a tad bit closer to them.
The exhaustion caught up to both of them, and they both were fast asleep by 10 PM.
In the Banerjee apartment Pihu clutched her indian navy costume nervously, as she stood in front of the large mirror in her mom's bedroom. She wore the signature matching white pants and shirt, with navy black shoulder straps, and gold epulets. Along with the signature matching cap.
" Maaa.. main theek se bol paungi na. Maan uncle khush hojayenge?" she said weakly.
" Arrey kyu nahi.. meri Pihu baby" Mishti smiled hugging her daughter from behind.
" Meri Pihu baby hai hi itni special!" but there was this nervousness to Mishti's expression.
"Aur waise bhi, beta, it's perfect. Tumne kitni baar practice kiya hai?"
"Dus baar. Par... par main bhool jaaungi stage pe. I know it."
Mishti knelt down, adjusting Pihu's cap gently. "Nahi bhoologi. Aur agar bhool bhi gayi, toh koi baat nahi. Just take a breath, dekho sabko, aur apne dil se bolo. Okay?"
"Okay." Pihu didn't sound convinced. She fidgeted nervously. "Mumma... Maan Uncle aayenge?"
Mishti's heart squeezed. This was the fifth time Pihu had asked this morning.
"Baby, I told you. Uncle ka bahut important kaam hai aaj. Woh try karenge, but..."
"Par unhone promise kiya tha!" Pihu's eyes filled with tears. "Unhone kaha tha they'll come! Unhone dekha bhi nahi mera uniform properly!"
That was true. Abhimanyu had been called to an urgent briefing at INS Angre two days ago and hadn't been around since.
"Main jaanti hoon, baby. Par kabhi kabhi grown-ups ka kaam bahut important hota hai. Navy toh aur bhi important hai, desh ki safety hai. Samjho?"
Pihu nodded miserably, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
"Arre, arre, no crying!" Mishti wiped it away quickly. "Yeh kya? Lieutenant Pihu roti hai? Navy officers don't cry!"
"Haan, they do," Pihu sniffled. "Maan Uncle ne bataya tha ki even officers ko sad feel hota hai sometimes."
"Theek hai, toh thodi der roo lo," Mishti said , pulling Pihu into a hug. "But then we fix your face, fix your cap, aur hum jaaenge school. Aur tum apna best dogi. Maan Uncle aaye ya na aaye, tum apna best dogi. Because you're not doing this for him. You're doing this for yourself. Okay?"
"Okay, Mumma."
In the school auditorium, several parents were seated waiting for their kids to perform for the fancy dress competition.
Backstage, Mishti was helping her with her costume.
"You're number 23, beta. Abhi thoda wait karna padega."
"Okay." Pihu said.
Nimmi maasi appeared, scrambling to to reach them. "PIHU MERI JAAN! OH MY GOD, LOOK AT YOU!"
"Nimmi Maasi !" Pihu's face lit up slightly.
"Hayee kitni cute lag rahi hai meri poti! Abhi ne yeh dekha?"
Pihu's face fell. "Nahi. Woh nahi aaye."
"Oh." Nimmi looked at Mishti, "Arrey beta koi baat nahi! Aapki daad- sorry maasi hain na!."
Backstage, Shriya was trying to organize everyone.
"Children! CHILDREN! Please stand in line! Ek line! ONE LINE! Yes, Saurabh beta, you're a doctor, very nice, but PLEASE stop trying to give the soldier an injection!"
Shriya spotted Pihu and smiled.
"Pihu! You look wonderful! Very official!"
"Thank you, Miss Shriya." Pihu did a small salute, which Shriya returned with a giggle.
"Nervous?"
"Bahut log hain."
"Haan, but you know what? They're all here to cheer for you. Aur tumhara uniform itna accha hai, everyone will love it!"
"Maan Uncle bhi naval officer hain," Pihu said proudly.
"Oh! That's wonderful!"
"Haan. Unhone hi mujhe yeh idea diya. Aur..." Pihu's voice got smaller. "Aur woh aana chahte the dekhne, par unka kaam hai."
Shriya's expression softened. "Work is important, beta. Par main sure hoon woh bahut proud honge. Aur who knows? Maybe woh aa jayein!"
"Maybe," Pihu whispered.
"PIHU!"
She looked up to see Ira and Prashant running over, both in their own costumes.
Ira was dressed as Rani Lakshmibai, complete with a red and gold saree and she had a , plastic sword in hand, and a tiny crown perched on her head.
Prashant wore an army officer uniform which was green camouflage pants and shirt with badges, a small cap, and even a toy walkie-talkie clipped to his belt.
"You look so cool!" Ira squealed, grabbing Pihu's hands and jumping up and down. "Navy officer! Like real one!"
"You also look pretty!" Pihu said, managing a small smile. "Like real queen!"
"I'm going to fight bad guys!" Ira declared, waving her plastic sword around. "Swoosh swoosh!"
"Careful!" Prashant ducked as the sword nearly hit him. "Ira, you almost poked my eye!"
"Sorry sorry!" Ira giggled.
Prashant turned to Pihu and his expression became serious.. "Pihu, you're shaking. Why?"
"I'm... I'm scared," Pihu admitted, her voice wobbling. "So many people watching. And... and Maan Uncle didn't come."
"Oh." Prashant's face fell. "Your Maan Uncle who gives best piggyback rides?"
"Haan. He promised he'll come but... but he has important work."
Ira immediately dropped her sword and hugged Pihu tightly. "Don't be sad! We are here! We'll cheer for you loudly loudly!"
"Very loudly!" Prashant agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "So loud that everyone's ears will hurt!"
Despite herself, Pihu giggled. "Not that loud, Prashant. Miss Shriya will scold."
A tear slipped down Pihu's cheek anyway.
Prashant's eyes went wide. "Pihu crying! No no no!" He immediately grabbed the end of his army uniform sleeve and very gently wiped her cheek. "See? All gone! No crying allowed for navy officers!"
"Or for queens!" Ira added. "Queens also don't cry! We fight!"
"And army also don't cry!" Prashant puffed out his chest. "We are brave!"
" Mera papa kehta hai soldiers have to be brave." he said.
" Your papa is a soldier?" Pihu asked.
" Yes toh woh bhi nahi aa sakte.. Actually I haven't seen him in long time" he said.
He gently took her hands in his, " So don't wolly okay... my papa also not here.. So you're not alone"
"So we all have to be brave!" Ira declared, taking Pihu's right hand.
Prashant took her left hand. "Together brave!"
"You'll do great speech!" Prashant said firmly. "You practiced with us remember? Yesterday in playground?"
"Haan," Pihu sniffled. "I remember."
"And you didn't forget even one word!" Ira reminded her. "You're so smart, Pihu!"
"You think I can do it?"
"YES!" both of them shouted together, then clapped their hands over their mouths when Miss Shriya gave them a warning look.
"Yes," Ira whispered loudly. "You're our best friend and you're so good at talking!"
"The best!" Prashant agreed. "I talk a LOT."
That made Pihu laugh properly. "You do talk a lot, Prashant."
"I know!" He grinned.
Ira squeezed her hand. "Remember! We'll be watching! Look for my red crown!"
"And my green uniform!" Prashant added. "And our mummies are there naa!"
"And we'll clap super loud!" Ira promised.
Pihu took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this."
"YES YOU CAN!" they both whisper-shouted.
The competition started.
One by one, children walked on stage.
Number 12 was a doctor who announced she wanted to "make people not dead anymore."
Number 15 was an astronaut who forgot his speech and just said "Space is big. Very very big. Thank you."
Mishti's phone buzzed. A message from Abhimanyu:
Abhi: How's she doing? I'm so sorry I can't be there. Briefing just won't end.
Mishti: She's okay. Worried about her speech. And missing you.
Abhi: Tell her I'm proud of her. So proud. And I'll make it up to her. Promise.
Mishti: I will. She'll understand. But she's tough.
Abhi: Yes like her mom 😉
Mishti stared at that last message, blushing pink.
"Number 23!" the principal called. "Pihu Banerjee!"
"That's me!" Pihu jumped up from her backstage seat.
Shriya quickly fixed her cap, straightened her collar. "Perfect. You look perfect. Now go show everyone!"
Pihu walked to the stage entrance, took a deep breath, and stepped in front of the mike
"Good morning everyone. My name is Pihu Banerjee. I am... I am four years old. Today I am... um..." She touched her uniform nervously. "Today I am dressed as a Navy Officer. Navy officers protect our country. They... they go in big ships in the ocean and... and they make sure we are safe."
"Navy officers are very brave. They leave their families and go far away to protect us. My... my Maan Uncle is a Navy officer. He is a Lef... Lef-ten-ant. ( She pronounced it the way Abhimanyu had taught her. ))"That is a very important job."
"He has a white uniform like mine. With gold buttons. And a... a cap. He looks very handsome and very strong." Pihu's voice got smaller. "He wanted to come today but... but he is at work. Protecting our country. Because that is his job. Navy officers always do their duty first."
"When I grow up," Pihu continued. "I want to be like Maan Uncle. I want to be brave and... and strong and protect people. I want to go in ships and... and see the ocean. And I want to make India safe."
She saluted again, holding it this time.
"Jai Hind!"
She dropped the salute and started walking off stage.
"WAIT!"
Abhimanyu Khanna stood at the back entrance, still in his full uniform and his cap was tucked under his arm.
"MAAN UNCLE!" Pihu's shrieked
She forgot all protocol, forgot she was on stage, forgot everything and ran down the stage steps and up the aisle.
Abhimanyu dropped to one knee just in time to catch her as she launched herself at him.
"You came! You came, you came, you came!" Pihu was crying and laughing at the same time, her arms wrapped around his neck in a stranglehold.
" Haan Mirchi 2.0" he said softly hugging her back.
"Of course I came,. I promised, didn't I?" His voice was rough with emotion. " And an officer never breaks a promise."
" I'm so sorry I was late, but I'm here now."
"I thought—I thought you had duty—"
"Duty khatam ho gayi. Aur main bhaaga. Bahut fast. Traffic rules bhi toda." He pulled back to look at her, his own eyes clearly bright. "Aur main ne tumhara speech suna. Sab kuch."
"Sach mein?"
"Sach mein. Aur Pihu..." His voice cracked slightly. "I'm not the hero. You are.You stood on that stage, did your speech perfectly, even when you thought I wasn't coming. That's what real courage is."
"Par aap toh aaye!"
"Haan, aur main humesha aaunga. Jab bhi tum chahogi. Promise." He kissed her forehead, then noticed the entire auditorium was watching them. "Oops. Sorry. Main ne sab ko disturb kar diya."
The principal intervened, "Sir, I think you should probably take a seat. We still have more children to go."
"Right. Yes. Sorry."
Pihu returned to her seat where the other children were.
Sometime later, everyone turned toward the stage where the Principal was taking the microphone.
"And now, for the winners of our Fancy Dress Competition!
"In third place... Ira Goel as Rani Laxmibai!"
In 2nd place... Prashant Chavan as an Army Officer!"
"And in first place..."
"...Pihu Banerjee as an Indian Navy Officer!"
Pihu's mouth fell open. "I won? MAINE JEETA?"
"You won!" Abhimanyu was grinning so wide. "Go! Go get your medal!" he shouted, standing up clapping the loudest.
Mishti hushed Abhimanyu, " Shhh sab dekh rahe hai... junior kg ki competition hi hai"
Pihu ran onto the stage, where the Principal placed a gold medal around her neck and gave her a certificate.
Pihu looked out into the audience, found Abhimanyu and Mishti, and waved.
"Mumma! Maan Uncle! I WON!"
After the ceremony, outside on the school's lawn, Nimmi Maasi took out her iphone camera.
Other parents were taking pictures too, but Nimmi Maasi had claimed a spot under a large tree and was photographing everyone.
"Pihu, idhar dekh! Haan! Medal dikhao! Proper! Aur Mishti, tu bhi aa photo mein!"
Mishti joined Pihu, kneeling down beside her daughter. "Smile, baby!"
Click click click.
"Abhimanyu! Tu bhi aa! Tum dono ka ek picture! Nimmi Maasi called out.
But Abhimanyu was already walking over. "Kahan khadha hoon?"
"Pihu ke doosri side! Haan! Perfect!"
Shriya, who was watching with amusement, called out: "Bhaiyya, cap pehno! Dono officers ko saath mein! It'll be so cute!"
Abhimanyu laughed and put his cap on. Then he knelt down next to Pihu.
Click click click.
"Ek aur! Pihu, Maan Uncle ko salute kar!"
Pihu saluted Abhimanyu very seriously. He saluted back, equally serious.
Click.
"Beautiful! Ek aur! Mishti, Abhi, tum dono khade ho jaao behind Pihu!"
" Abh Pihu aur tum Abhimanyu dusri picture" Nimmi maasi said.
"Haan haan! Photo leni padegi!" Shriya joined in, pulling out her own phone. "Pihu, beta, Maan Uncle ke saath khadi ho jao properly! Medal dikhao!"
"Yay! Photo!" Pihu immediately struck a pose, holding her medal up.
Abhimanyu smiled and stood next to her, one hand on her shoulder. Nimmi Maasi started clicking away, taking photo after photo from different angles.
"Ek aur! Abhi, Pihu ko utha lo! Shoulder pe!"
Abhimanyu lifted Pihu onto his shoulders easily. She squealed with delight, her medal held high.
"MAIN SABSE UPAR HOON!"
After the pictures seemed to be over Nimmi maasi opened her mouth.
"Arre bas ek aur! Sirf Mishti, Pihu aur Abhimanyu! Come on!" Nimmi Maasi said.
"Nahi, Maasi, yeh—" Mishti said
"Mishti bhabhi, ek photo toh banta hai!" Shriya encouraged. "Aap dono ne milke itna accha uniform banaya! Credit shared hai!"
" WHAT isne thodi banaya! Saare mehnat meri hi thi." Mishti snapped glaring at Abhi.
" But I am the inspiration you know." he winked.
"Haan!" Pihu agreed. "Mumma, Maan Uncle, please! One photo!"
Abhimanyu looked at Mishti, eyebrow raised in question. "Ek photo?"
"I... yeh..." Mishti was flustered. "It'll look weird.
" Ek picture se kyu darti ho Mishti." he smirked.
"Fine. Ek photo."
She moved to stand next to him stiffly, keep six inches away.
"Arre arre! Itne door kyun khadi ho?" Nimmi Maasi complained. "Paas aao! It looks weird!"
"Maasi—"
"Photo acchi nahi aayegi!"
Mishti took a tiny step closer. Still not touching.
Abhimanyu sighed. "Yaar, Mishti, kha thodi jaaunga tumhe. Just stand normally."
"I AM standing normally!"
"You're standing like mujhe malaria hua hai"
"Maybe you do!"
"Very mature. Pihu ki age ho tum?" he argued.
" Nahi toh!" she said.
"Then prove it. Stand closer."
"Why should I?"
"Because Maasi bol rahi hai aur agar nahi kiya toh photo achi nahi aayegi!"
Mishti knew he was right. She took another tiny step.
"Closer!" Nimmi Maasi directed. "Aur Mishti, thoda smile kar! Aise muh bana ke khadi hai jaise kisine tumhe bandi rakh kar photo khichwa rahe hai"
"I am smiling!" she groaned
Abhimanyu snorted, " smiling.. Ya right.. tujhe loose motion ho raha hai waise lag raha hai!"
"Abhimanyu... maar padegi mere haath se!"
Abhimanyu was laughing now, which only made Mishti more irritated.
"Tum hans rahe ho?" she hissed at him.
"Haan, kyunki you're so funny!"
"I'm not trying to be funny!"
"That makes it funnier!"
"You're stupid, OFFICER OBHODRO!!"
" You're beautiful, Man mohini" he said softly in her ear.
Her breath caught when he said that... "kya?" she said flustered.
" Kuch nahi Mirchi." he said.
\
"Arre, tum dono photo khinchwaoge ki ladoge?" Nimmi Maasi called out breaking the moment.
Abhimanyu's eyes glinted with mischief. Before Mishti could react, he reached out wrapping his arm around her saree pallu and gently tugged her pallu towards him.
Mishti stumbled forward with a small "oof !"and suddenly she was right against him.
Her hand automatically went to his chest to steady herself. His arm had come around her waist to catch her.
And because she was wearing a saree a beautiful teal saree his hand landed on the bare skin of her saree.
Click click click click click!
"PERFECT!" Nimmi Maasi was clicking away gleefully. "Bilkul filmi! Ek aur!"
"Maasi, nahi—" Mishti tried to step back.
But Abhimanyu's hand was still on her waist, his fingers flexed, holding her there.
" Shhh hilo mat.. Photo kharab hojayegi" he said in her ear and he pulled her closer to him.
His hand was still on her waist. Her hand was still on his collar. They were close enough that she could see the small scar on his jawline from where he'd fallen off his bike at age twelve after she pushed him.
"Mishti," he said softly.
"Haan?"
He leaned closer to her ear, his lips almost brushing them, " Picture ki jyaada tension mat lo.. Kuch bhi karo... tum photo mein sundar hi lagogi"
She felt heat rush to her face. "I... thank you?"
Click click click!
"BEAUTIFUL!" Nimmi Maasi declared. "Dekho Shriya, kitna accha aa raha hai!"
Somehow in her conscious, her hand moved from his chest to his collar, fingers gently adjusting the fabric, smoothing it down.
The moment her fingers touched his collar, they both realized what she was doing.
Abhimanyu glanced down at her, confused. "Kya hua? Something wrong?"
"N-nahi, tumhara collar... tedha ho gaya tha," she stammered.
"Oh." He looked down at his collar, completely unbothered. "Thanks." Then turned back to Pihu. "Gudiya , smile!"
After all the adult photos were done and Nimmi Maasi had finally stopped taking pictures, Pihu spotted Ira and Prashant waiting nearby with their own medals. "IRA! PRASHANT!" Pihu ran over.
"YOU WON!" Ira "FIRST PLACE! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!"
"You were amazing!" Prashant said, his eyes wide with admiration. "Your speech was so good! Everyone clapped!"
"You helped me practice!" Pihu said. "Both of you! That's why I remembered everything!"
"We're the best team!" Ira declared, throwing her arms around both of them.
Mishti was watching from a few feet away, her heart melting at the sight of the three tiny uniformed children hugging, this reminded her of her own childhood trio, yet the roles were reversed this time.
"Arre, yeh toh perfect photo opportunity hai!" Nimmi Maasi appeared again, phone at the ready. "Teen heroes! Ek sath!"
"Haan haan, photo leni hi padegi! Look how cute they are!" Shriya said
Ira's mother Kavita and Prashant's mother Pranali , also appeared, equally armed with phones.
"This is so adorable!" Ira's mom cooed.
"They look like mini defense forces!" Prashant's mom laughed.
"Okay, all three of you, stand straight!" Nimmi Maasi directed. "Like real officers!"
All three stood at attention, trying their best to look serious and official.
Click click click.
"Now smile!"
Click click click.
"Ek group hug waala!" Ira's mother suggested.
The three of them immediately piled on each other, giggling and squishing together.
"Prashant, you're squishing me!" Pihu laughed.
"Sorry! Ira pushed me!"
"I didn't push! You're just big!"
"I'm not big! I'm normal size!"
Click click click.
"Okay okay, now serious warrior photo!" Prashant's mom called out. "All three salute!"
The three children stood in a line and gave the most adorable, slightly incorrect salutes.
Pihu's was perfect, Abhimanyu had taught her properly. Ira's hand was at a weird angle. Prashant saluted with his left hand instead of right.
Click click click.
"Beautiful! Perfect!"
Prashant suddenly grabbed Pihu's hand and held it up high. "Champion! First place! Hip hip!"
"HOORAY!" Ira and Prashant shouted together.
Pihu was giggling so hard she could barely stand, her medal clutched in one hand, Prashant holding her other hand up like she was a boxing champion.
Click click click.
" Say paneer pakoda susu!" Nimmi maasi said.
" Paneer pakoda susu!" the kids echoed back, which got stares from other people.
" Maasi!!" Mishti smacked Nimmi's arm playfully.
" Kya! Bache hai! Jeene toh do inhe!" she said.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aaravi woke up slowly, she felt warm for some reason and could smell the scent of cologne and the andalwood, perhaps it was Valentino or Versace. She wasn't sure.
She blinked her eyes open slowly, not wanting to disturb whatever comfortable situation she'd found herself in, and then froze.
She was curled up against Akshay's side, her body on his bare chest, one of her hands resting over his heart. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close even in sleep, and his other hand was resting on her waist over the thin fabric of her night dress.
He was shirtless, she realized with a jolt, her face immediately heating up.
She should move. She should definitely move. This was inappropriate. They barely knew each other. They were married but not really married. She should absolutely get up right now.
But she didn't move.
Instead, she let herself just look at him in the golden hour.
"Haye," she whispered to herself. "kitne handsome lagte hain yeh subah subah. Seriously kitne achhe dikhte hain. Not fair"
" Nahi toh main toh subah subah kumbhkaran jaisi dikhti hoon" she grumbled.
His face in sleep was so different. It was younger somehow. His hair was messy from sleep, the soft waves of his hair fell across his forehead. His eyelashes were thick and Aaravi rolled her eyes in jealousy.
" Ladkon.. Ko hi kyu aise lambe eyelashes milte." she groaned.
" mann karta hai.. Kheench loon inhe" she said.
There was the slightest hint of stubble on his jaw, and she had the sudden insane urge to touch it, to feel if it was as rough as it looked.
"Kitne sundar features hain," she continued speaking feeling safe to admire him openly while he slept. "Yeh nose, so perfect. Aur yeh jawline toh matlab... sharp enough to cut glass."
Her eyes traced down to his lips, and she felt her face get even hotter. They were slightly parted in sleep, soft-looking, and she quickly looked away before her thoughts could go anywhere else.
"Haye, humari hi nazar inke upar na lag jaaye," she whispered, bringing her knuckle up to her temples in that superstitious gesture people make to ward off evil eye. "Kitne pyaare hain. Kitne achhe. Meri toh lottery lag gayi."
Her eyes moved down to his chest, to the steady rise and fall of his chest, and she let herself appreciate the fact that he was clearly in good shape. "Main aise hi roz uth sakti hoon," she murmured dreamily, letting herself indulge in the fantasy. "Inki baahon mein. Inke saath. As his wife. Properly. Real waali wife. Yeh toh... yeh toh bohot achha hoga."
She was so lost in her admiration and her whispered commentary that she didn't notice when his breathing pattern changed, when his eyelashes fluttered slightly.
"Inke haath bhi kitne achhe hain," she continued softly, looking at the hand resting on her waist. "Lambi fingers. . Aur yeh veins, haye, yeh toh—"
" I wonder what they can do" she said mischieviously.
Akshay's eyes snapped open.
For a second, they just stared at each other, her face inches from his, her hand still on his chest, his arm still around her.
And then his brain seemed to register the situation: her pressed against him, him shirtless, her clearly staring at him, the intimacy of their position.
"WHAT—" he jerked backward, his body reacting and in his sudden panicked movement, his arm pushed rather than pulled.
" AHHHHHHHH!" he screamed letting out a high pitched sound.
Aaravi felt herself sliding, tried to grab onto something but she failed and went tumbling off the edge of the bed with a shriek.
"AHHH!" she screamed back.
She landed on the carpeted floor with a heavy thump flat on her back, staring at him angrily.
Then tears started streaming down her face, in the angry, offended, this-is-absolutely-ridiculous kind.
" BAVRAT MANUS!!! AKAL NAHI AHE TULA! DOKYA WAR PADLA AHES KA!" she yelled in marathi.
( Stupid man! Don't you have a brain. Have you fallen on your head)
"GANDE PATI!" she wailed from the floor, not even trying to get up. "GANDE PATI! BILKUL GANDE! KHARAAB! BADTAMEEZ!" KAMEENE PATI"
"Aaravi!" Akshay's panicked face appeared over the edge of the bed, looking horrified. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to— Are you hurt?! Kahi lagi toh nahi?!"
"LAGI HAI!" she sobbed dramatically, though she was mostly fine.
"BOHOT LAGI HAI! DARD HO RAHA HAI! AUR BHI ZYADA DARD HO RAHA HAI KI MERE PATI NE MUJHE BED SE PUSH KARKE GIRA DIYA!"
"Maine push nahi kiya!" he protested, scrambling off the bed and kneeling beside her. "Main... main shocked ho gaya! Aap itni kareeb thi aur main... I panicked! Maine deliberately nahi kiya, I swear!"
"GANDE PATI!" she repeated, hitting him on the arm while still lying on the floor. "GANDE! BADTAMEEZ! MANHOOS!"
"Aaravi, please, I'm really sorry—"
"SORRY SE KUCH NAHI HOTA!" She sat up and grabbed the nearest pillow that had also fallen, smacking him with it. "TUMNE MUJHE GIRA DIYA! FLOOR PE! JAISE MAIN EK ATTE KA THAILA HOON!"
"Badtameez!" WHACK. "Chichora!" WHACK. "Shameless!" WHACK.
"Okay, okay, I deserve this," he said, taking the pillow hits. " Par please, at least let me check agar aapko kahin lagi toh nahi hai—"
"MUJHE TUMSE BAAT HI NAHI KARNI!" Aaravi declared, turning her face away dramatically, still sitting on the floor, pillow clutched to her chest.
"Aaravi, please, I'm really very sorry. Main sach mein nahi jaanta tha ki aap wahan hai, mere upar, I just woke up aur dekha aapko aur main shocked ho gaya ki itna kareeb—" He stopped himself, his ears going red. "I mean, not ki aapka kareeb hona bura hai, just ki main prepared nahi tha, aur maine galti se—"
"Hmph!" Aaravi turned away more dramatically.
"Arrey Kali Maata Shant." he said trying to diffuse the situation.
"Aap mujhse baat nahi karogi. Theek hai. Par... par agar main aapke liye pizza mangwa doon?"
Aaravi's pillow-hitting paused before she resumed her angry face. "Mujhe tumhara pizza nahi chahiye."
"Extra cheese waala," he added. "Woh Domino's waala jo aapko pasand hai. Paneer tikka. Extra cheese. Stuffed crust."
"...Nahi chahiye," she said but her voice had lost its heat.
"Aur garlic breadsticks bhi," he continued, "Woh cheesy waale. Aur Choco Lava Cake. Do."
She was weakening, he could tell. But she crossed her arms stubbornly.
" Police mein hai aap , toh rishvat lene ki or dene ki aadat hi hogi aapko!" she snapped.
"Arrey par.. ," he said, "aaj aapko study bhi nahi karni padegi. Pure din. Chutti. No books. No notes. Just relax."
"Aur kya milega? Jaldi batao!" she sighed finally.
He sighed, knowing he was defeated. "Fine. Kya chahiye aapko?"
"Chahti toh mai aapko..." she winked " but aap aise harkaatein karte hai jisse koi bhi ladki.. Kya.. ladka bhi bhaag jayega!"
" K... Kyaa?" he asked his face flushing red.
. " Arrey mazaak kar rahi thi, Mujhe chudiyyan chahiye jo maine kal market mein dekhe the." she said
"Done."
"Aur tumhe pure din meri tarah se koi lecture nahi dena. Koi 'Aaravi yeh galat hai', 'Aaravi woh mat karo', kuch nahi."
"That's pushing it—"
"Toh main wapas naraaz hoon!" She turned away again.
"Okay fine! Fine! Pure din no lectures. Par agar aap kuch —"
"No. Exceptions. Nahi."
He groaned. "Theek hai. Pure din no lectures. Ab khush?"
She looked at him, considering, then slowly a smile broke across her face. "Haan. Khush hoon."
"Toh maaf kiya?"
"Maaf kiya," she agreed. "Par next time agar aapne mujhe gira diya na, toh main aapko ghar se laat maar ke bahar nikal dungi!"
"Noted," he said dryly. "Ab please let me help you up. Aapki back theek hai?"
"Thodi dard hai," she admitted, and before she could protest, he'd gently pulled her toward him to check for injuries.
"I really am sorry," he said, more seriously now. "For pushing you off the bed. I genuinely didn't mean to. Main just... aap itni close thi aur main abhi uthaa tha aur mera brain process hi nahi kar paya—"
"It's okay," Aaravi said quickly, not making eye contact because how could she explain that she'd been staring at him, admiring him, whispering about how handsome he was like some kind of creep? "Main samajh sakti hoon. Aur... aur I'm sorry for overreacting."
"You didn't overreact. I deserved the pillow-hitting."
They were both standing up when Akshay's phone started ringing from the nightstand.
He grabbed it without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Akshay! Hi! Finally, tumne phone uthaya!"
"Jeevika," he said, his voice flat. "Kya chahiye?"
Aaravi's eyes went wide. Jeevika?
She crept closer, shamelessly eavesdropping.
"Main... main tumse sorry kehne ke liye call ki thi," Jeevika's voice came through, "Uss din jo hua, I... I shouldn't have done that. Maine bohot galat kiya. Maine tumhe force kiya aur—"
"Hmm," Akshay said.
Aaravi made a face behind his back, mimicking Jeevika, making exaggerated sorry gestures. "Oh Akshay, I'm so sorry, I forced myself on you—" she mouthed dramatically.
Akshay shot her a warning look over his shoulder, but he looked like he would burst into laughter any second.
"Aur main chahti thi ki hum properly baat karein," Jeevika continued. "Tumhare family aur mere family dono chahte hain ki hum... ki hum ek dusre ko jaanne ki koshish karein. Toh main soch rahi thi agar tum free ho toh hum coffee pe mil sakte hain? Ya dinner?"
Aaravi made vomiting gestures behind Akshay, fake gagging silently.
"Main busy hoon," Akshay said shortly. "Bohot busy. Next few weeks completely packed hain."
"Oh." Jeevika sounded disappointed. "Par maybe after that? Main wait kar sakti hoon—"
Aaravi started making kissing faces and batting her eyelashes dramatically, mouthing "Akshay, I love you, marry me" in an exaggerated way.
But Aaravi had gotten bolder, she crept right up behind him and made a loud kissing sound.
Akshay's hand shot out and clamped over her mouth, his palm warm against her lips. His eyes were wide with panic as he mouthed "Chup raho!" at her.
Aaravi, being Aaravi, bit his palm.
It wasn't that hard enough to really hurt, but enough to make him jerk his hand back with a muffled yelp. " AAAHHHHH" he yelped
"Kya hua?!" Jeevika asked, concerned. "Tum theek ho?"
"Haan! Haan! Bilkul! Bas... bas ek... uh..." Akshay scrambled for an excuse while Aaravi grinned wickedly behind him. "Ek... mosquito! Bada mosquito! Maine maar diya!"
"Mosquito?" Jeevika sounded skeptical.
"Haan! Bohot bada! Massive! Anyway, Jeevika, I think tumhari line thodi... thodi cut rahi hai? Connection weak hai?"
"Mere end se toh theek hai—"
"Nahi nahi, definitely weak hai! Main barely sun pa raha hoon! Tum... you're breaking up... sshhhhhh... psshhhhh... ( he made noises) I'll call you... later... bye!"
He hung up before she could respond and whirled around to face Aaravi, who was trying and failing to look innocent.
"Aap!" he said, pointing at her. "Aap ne almost expose kar diya humein!"
"Maine kya kiya?" Aaravi asked sweetly. "Maine toh bas ek kissing sound di. Woh toh kuch bhi ho sakti thi. Shayad TV pe kuch aa raha tha. Shayad bahar se awaaz aayi. Shayad—"
And she's Aaravi and because the devil on her shoulder was feeling mischievous, she leaned in slightly and lowered her voice. "Par seriously, Akshay, agar tumhe Jeevika ke saath coffee date pe jana hai, toh mujhe batana mat bhoolna. Main tumhe achhe se tayyar karungi. Tumhara best kurta press kar dungi. Cologne lagwa dungi. Hair gel—"
"Aaravi," he said warningly.
"Aur main tumhe tips bhi de sakti hoon! Like, girls ko compliments pasand aate hain. Toh tum bol sakte ho 'Jeevika, tumhare baal bohot achhe hain' ya 'Jeevika, tumhari smile bohot pretty hai' ya—"
"Aaravi, main tumhe dedh ghante mein hotel room se nikal dunga."
"Aur holding hands bhi kar sakte ho! Romantic hai! Ya maybe ek movie dekhne jaa sakte ho! Popcorn share kar sakte ho! Very filmy! Very—"
Akshay grabbed another pillow and threw it at her face.
She shrieked and laughed, running but in the heat of the moment he reached out pulling the cloth of her night dress.
In his actions, she almost tripped and in the heat to steady her, he ended up pinning her on the bed underneath him.
Akshay had ended up on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her head to keep from crushing her completely, his face buried in the crook of her neck.
Aaravi could feel his breath against her neck. Could feel the weight of him above her, the heat of his bare chest hovering inches from her. Could feel her heart absolutely hammering in her chest.
"Um," Akshay's voice came out muffled against her neck. "I... yeh... this is..."
"Accident tha?" Aaravi squeaked.
"haan" he agreed, but he wasn't moving, and neither was she.
And then Akshay's fingers, still braced beside her head, twitched slightly against her side.
And suddenly he was tickling her, because in moments like this, he thought of breaking the tension completely, making her shriek with laughter and squirm beneath him.
"Akshay! Akshay nahi! Hahaha! Nahi please! Hahaha!"
"Yeh aapki saza hai," he said, grinning now as he tickled her sides mercilessly, "for making me grovel so much!"
"Main sorry! Hahaha! Main sorry! Please! Haha! Akshay!"
He paused making sure she was good.
" Sorry about that.. Are you okay?" he asked gently.
She smiled nodding.
" chalo ready ho jao.. Humein check out hai ek ghante mein." he said
................................................................................................................................
It was late in the Malhotra mansion, and Shriya was starting to get worried.
She sat on the couch curled up with a book, her reading glasses on, and she still hadn't changed out of her saree.
The clock was ticking by the hour, it was almost midnight.
Suddenly,
The sound of a car door slamming made her jump. Then she heard Mohan kaka's worried tone, and someone else singing?
Shriya's heart pounded as she rushed to the entrance, pulling the heavy door open just as Mohan kaka helped Veer up the front steps.
"Shriya beti," the elderly driver said, now relieved, "Sahab ne bahut pi rakhi hai. Office party thi, maine kaha main le aata hoon, par—"
"It's okay, kaka. Main sambhal lungi." Shriya stepped forward, her five foot 6 frame reaching for Veer's other arm.
Veer's head lolled toward her, and she could see his eyes were unfocused, his expensive shirt half-untucked, tie hanging loose around his neck . His glasses were dropping funny.
The Tom Ford cologne, he always wore was now overpowered by the smell of whiskey.
"Shriyaaa ji," he drew out her name like a song, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Aap yaha? Iss waqt? Kya baat hai!"
"Haan, main yahi hoon. Chaliye andar." She tried to sound firm.
Mohan kaka helped her maneuver Veer through the doorway. "Beti, main upar tak—"
"Nahi nahi, kaka. Aap bahut thak gaye honge. Main manage karungi. Aap jaaiye, so jaaiye."
As Mohan kaka left, Shriya found herself alone with her intoxicated husband, who was now examining her face with the concentration of a man discovering the Taj Mahal for the first time.
"Veer ji, please, sofe tak chalte hain."
"Veer jiiiiii," he mimicked her soft tone, then burst into laughter. "Aap itna pyaar se bolti ho. Jaise main koi bachcha hoon. Main bachcha hoon kya?"
She giggled, "Abhi toh lag rahe ho. Chaliye."
he guided him toward the sofa, but Veer seemed to have other ideas. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the marble foyer, swaying slightly, staring at the massive crystal chandelier above.
"Yeh dekho, Shriya ji. Kitna chamakta hai. Bilkul aapke aankhon jaisa."
Shriya felt heat creep up her neck. "Veer ji, please—"
"Aur yeh floor bhi kitna chamakta hai. Pata hai kyun? Kyunki aap iss ghar mein aayi. Pehle itna nahi chamakta tha. Sab kuch zyada achha lag raha hai jab se aap aayi."
Her heart did something complicated in her chest. "Aap—aap bahut thake honge. Pehle baithiye—"
"Thaka? THAKA?" Veer suddenly spun toward her,
"Main toh bilkul fresh hoon! Dekho!" He threw his arms wide, nearly toppling over, and Shriya lunged forward to steady him.
"Haan haan, bahut fresh lag rahe ho. Ab please—"
"Aapko pata hai aaj kya hua?" Veer's voice dropped to a whisper, He leaned down, his face inches from hers, and Shriya's breath caught
. "Rawat uncle ne kaha ki arranged marriage mein pyaar nahi hota. Kaha ki yeh sab compromise hai. Toh maine kaha—" He straightened up, swaying. "Maine kaha, UNCLE AAP GALAT HAI!"
He punctuated this declaration by pointing at an imaginary Uncle Rawat somewhere near the chandelier.
Shriya couldn't help it, she laughed, "Acha? Aur phir?"
"Phir maine kaha ki meri wife kitni perfect hai. Kitni sundar hai. Kitni kind hai. Kitni.." He paused,. "Kitni bahut saari cheezein hai jo main bol nahi sakta kyunki English ke words nahi mil rahe aur Hindi mein... Hindi mein kehne se darr lagta hai."
"Ab chup chaap mere saath chaliye," she said gently, tugging his arm.
This time, Veer allowed himself to be led, though he kept up a running commentary. "Aap itni choti kaise ho? Main toh itna lamba. Awkward nahi lagta? Hum dono saath mein? Like, proportion-wise?"
"Nahi lagta." Shriya moved him toward the sofa. "Ab baithiye yaha."
Veer flopped onto the sofa. He watched with unfocused fascination as Shriya knelt before him, reaching for his expensive Oxford shoes.
"Yeh main khud—" he started, but his fingers fumbled uselessly at the laces.
"Rehne dijiye." Shriya's nimble fingers worked at the complicated knots, her dupatta slipping off one shoulder as she bent forward.
She'd just loosened the first lace when Veer's hand suddenly caught her wrist.
"Shriya ji... ruk jaiye na."
"Yeh... yeh theek nahi hai."
"Kya theek nahi hai? Shoes utarne mein kya—"
"Aap... aapke haath," Veer said slowly.
His thumb traced a gentle circle on her wrist, and Shriya forgot how to breathe. "Aapke haath yaha hone chahiye."
He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing it there for a moment that stretched into eternity. Shriya's eyes widened, her mouth parting in shock.
"Yaha." He moved her hand to his chest, right over his heart, which was thundering even through the expensive fabric of his shirt. His other hand came up to cradle her fingers there. "Yaha." He touched her hand to his forehead with such tenderness it made her eyes sting. "Yaha bhi."
He guided her hand to his cheek, leaning into her palm with a sigh that sounded like coming home.
"Par pairo ke paas? Kabhi nahi. Kabhi nahi, Shriya ji." His voice cracked slightly. "Aap mere liye bohot khaas ho. Aur khaas cheezo ko... khaas cheezo ko neeche nahi baithaya jata. Unhe yaha rakhte hai."
He pressed her hand over his heart again, his eyes falling closed.
"Veer ji," she whispered, her voice unsteady. "Aapke shoes toh utaarne padenge."
"Toh main khud utar lunga." His eyes opened, fierce despite the alcohol. "Aap utao mat. Please."
" Aur kuch bhi utaarna hai aapko... toh yeh utaar lo" he said bringing his hands to his shirt.
" VEER JI?" she yelped shocked and he winked.
'" Sorry..." he said nervously.
" Mai khud utaar leta hoon shoes"
"Theek hai." She gently she said.
"Theek hai. Aap utaro."
She moved to stand, but Veer's coordination had other plans. As he bent forward to tackle his shoes, he overbalanced, falling forward directly onto Shriya.
"Ouff!" The breath rushed out of her as he crashed into her, sending them both tumbling backward onto the plush rug.
For a moment, they lay there in a tangle of limbs, Veer's leg over hers, his face buried somewhere in her shoulder, her dupatta wrapped around both of them like a cocoon.
"I'm sorry," Veer mumbled into the fabric. "I'm so sorry. Yeh shoes mujhse bura bol rahe the. Pasand hi nahi karte mujhe!"
Shriya started to laugh.
Veer lifted his head, his hair mussed, eyes wide with drunken delight. "Aap has rahi ho! Main Aapke aankhe band ho jati hai jab aap hasti ho. Aur yeh dimple—" He poked her cheek clumsily. "Yeh kaha se aaya? Chup chup ke?"
" You know.. Your laughter is my favourite sound Ashi ji" he smiled.
"Veer ji, please uthiye. Floor pe—"
"Floor perfect hai. Aakhir aap meri upar hai na" he grinned.
"Veer ji—"
Shriya shook her head, still smiling despite herself. "Uthiye. Please. Bed pe sona better hai. Oh god, aapko chakkar aa raha hai, bedroom, chalo, please—"
"Bedroom?" Veer's eyebrows shot up, and a ridiculous grin spread across his face.
He attempted to stand, made it halfway up.. Instead, before Shriya could process what was happening, he bent down and scooped her up in his arms, one arm under her knees, the other around her back.
"Bedroom? Shriya ji, aap kitni forward ho! Maine socha bhi nahi tha! Par main... main gentleman hoon. Pehle shaadi, phir—oh wait. Shaadi toh ho gayi. Toh ab... ab kya sequence tha? Confused ho gaya."
"VEER JI!" Shriya's shriek was muffled against his chest as he lifted her clean off the ground. "Kya kar rahe ho? Neeche utaro mujhe!"
"Nahi!" Veer declared triumphantly, holding her against him. "Aaj main hero hoon! Aur hero apni heroine ko aise hi uthata hai!"
And then, to Shriya's absolute horror and secret delight, he began to spin slow.
"Tum mere ho iss pal, mere ho kal bhi, AREY WAIT, yeh toh wrong song hai. Main koi aur gaana soch raha tha. Kaunsa tha? Tere bina zindagi se—nahi nahi, yeh bhi nahi—"
"VEER JI, PLEASE! Gir jaoge! Hum dono gir jayenge!"
"Nahi girenge!" He spun faster, his confidence vastly outweighing his coordination. "Main bahut strong hoon! Gym jaata hoon! Dekho!"
He attempted to lift her higher, demonstrating his gym-earned strength, but his foot caught on the edge of the rug.
Time seemed to slow. Shriya felt the stumble, saw the crystal chandelier blur above them, felt Veer's arms tighten protectively around her even as he lost his balance.
"Veer ji, mujhe neeche rakho."
"Kyun?"
"Kyunki... kyunki aise theek nahi hai."
"Kya theek nahi hai? Aap meri wife hai . Main aapka husband. Toh hum dono aise... aise close toh ho sakte hai na? Ya main galat hoon? Main hamesha galat hi hoon. Sorry. Sorry, main—"he began pouting.
"Aap galat nahi hai," Shriya said softly, her resolve weakening at the sudden insecurity in his voice. "Par abhi aap thik se soch nahi pa rahe. Kal subah—"
"Kal subah main bhool jaaunga?" Veer's voice dropped to a whisper, he sat on the couch pulling her in his lap. His hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear with surprising gentleness. "Yeh bhi bhool jaaunga ki aap kitni pyaari ho? Ki jab aap haasti ho toh mere dil mein weird sa feeling hota hai? Like... like cardiac arrest, but in a good way?"
Shriya bit her lip to keep from laughing and crying at the same time. "Haan, shayad bhool jao. Isliye abhi—"
"Toh phir I need to say everything abhi. Right now. Iss waqt." Veer's hand framed her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.
"Aapke haath bahut soft hai. Pata hai? Jab aap khana serve karti ho dinner pe, aur kabhi kabhi aapka haath mere haath ko touch kar jata hai, toh main poora din uss ehsaas ke baare mein sochta rehta hoon. Office mein bhi. Meeting mein bhi. Mr. Kapoor ne kal poocha ki main itna distracted kyun hoon. Maine kaha pet mein gadbad hai. Par sach yeh tha ki main soch raha tha ki aapne subah breakfast pe mere liye extra chai banai thi. Aur yaad kiya tha ki mujhe kam cheeni pasand hai."
"Aur aapki awaaz... jab aap ratko padhti ho living room mein, aur main pretend karta hoon ki main laptop pe kaam kar raha hoon, par actually main sun raha hota hoon aapko. Aapke pairo ki awaaz jab aap kitchen se aati ho. Aapke chooriyo ki awaaz. Sab kuch. Main sab kuch sunn leta hoon."
Shriya's eyes were definitely stinging now. "Veer ji..."
"Aur pata hai sabse best kya hai? Jab main ghar aata hoon, aur pata hai ki aap andar hai. Toh ghar, ghar jaisa lagta hai. Pehle yeh sirf ek ghar th. Bahut badi. Bahut khaali. Par ab..." He smiled, devastating smile. "Ab yeh sab aapki wajah se... I don't know the Hindi word. Luminous? Bright? Glowy?"
"Roshan," Shriya supplied.
"Haan! Roshni! Bilkul aap jaisi. Shriya ji, aap itni roshni deti hai meri jeevan mein, ki sometimes I have to look away kyunki... kyunki I don't deserve this much brightness in my life"
"Aisa mat bolo," Shriya said, surprising herself. "Aap—"
"Nahi nahi, suniye toh," Veer interrupted, his words tumbling over each other in his rush to get them out. "Main bahut boring hoon. Numbers dekhta hoon din bhar. Meetings attend karta hoon. Clients ko impress karta hoon. Graphs banana jaanta hoon. Par poetry nahi aati. Gaana nahi aata. Romance nahi aata properly. Aur main? Main I'm like an Excel sheet."
Despite the emotional moment, Shriya couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "Tum Excel sheet nahi ho."
"Hoon!" Veer insisted. "Colorful nahi. Boring. Predictable. Formulas se bhara hua."
"Toh theek hai," Shriya said, her eyes twinkling."Mujhe Excel sheets pasand hai."
Veer blinked up at her, processing this. Then his face split into the widest grin she'd ever seen. "Sach mein?"
Veer stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly tightened his arms around her and rolled them both, this time managing not to fall off the sofa, though it was a close thing. Now he was half-propped against the armrest, and she was tucked into his side, her head on his shoulder.
"Aap ko nahi jaane dungi," he declared, his voice muffled in her hair. "Never. Kabhi nahi. Aap yahii rahogi. Isi sofe pe. Forever."
"Veer ji, mujhe jaane toh dijiye—"
"NAHI!" He wrapped both arms around her like a stubborn child refusing to give up a toy. "Aap jaaogi toh I'll be alone. Aur akele mein mujhe aapki bahut yaad aati hai. Jab main office mein hota hoon. Jab main meeting mein hota hoon. Jab main bathroom mein bhi—okay that's weird. Sorry. But you understand na?"
"Samajh gayi," she managed. "Par Veer ji, aapko apne jacket utaarni chahiye. Aur shirt change karni chahiye. Aur properly sofe pe—ya better, bed pe—"
"Bed!" Veer's eyes lit up again. "Yes! Brilliant! Aapke paas?"
"Haan haan, woh sab baad mein." Shriya felt her face burning. "Pehle aapko sober hona padega."
"Main bilkul sober hoon!" To demonstrate, Veer tried to snap his fingers but missed entirely.
"Okay, maybe thoda sa not sober. But Shriya ji..." His voice turned pleading, his eyes wide and puppyish. "Aap mat jao. Please? Bas thodi der. Jab tak main so nahi jaata?"
"Theek hai," Shriya sighed. "Par pehle jacket aur shirt toh—"
"AAP KAROGI?" Veer perked up immediately.
"Main—NAHI! Matlab, haan, help kar sakti hoon, par—"
But Veer was already shrugging out of his suit jacket.
He got one arm out, then got confused about where his other arm had gone, then somehow managed to get the jacket stuck on his head.
"Shriya ji, help," came his muffled voice from inside the expensive fabric.
Shriya laughed she reached over to untangle him. "Shaant rahiye. Ruko."
She managed to free him from the jacket, which she folded neatly and set aside, very aware of his eyes tracking her every movement.
"Ab shirt," she said decisively, reaching for his collar.
"Main kar deti hoon," Shriya said, Aap bas... bas shaant baitho."
"Shaant," Veer repeated obediently, going completely still as Shriya's fingers began working on his shirt buttons.
It should have been simple. It should have been clinical. But nothing about this moment was simple.
"Aap kitni concentrate karti ho," Veer murmured, his voice soft with wonder. "Choti choti cheezein mein bhi. Jaise yeh sabse important kaam hai poore duniya mein. Button kholna."
"Shh. Baat mat karo."
"Par main toh hamesha aapse baat karna chahta hoon. Aap itna kam bolti ho. Aur main itna sunna chahta hoon. "
Shriya's fingers paused on the fourth button. "Main... main kya bolu? Aap itne smart hai . Business samajhte ho. Duniya dekhi hai aapne. Aur main toh bas ek teacher—"
"JUST a teacher?" Veer's hand shot up to cup her face, the movement surprisingly steady. "Shriya ji, aap tiny humans ko life ki sabse important cheezein sikhati ho. Aap future banati ho. Main? Main toh sirf paise move karta hoon ek account se doosre mein. Aap log mein changes laati ho. You are literally shaping our world tomorrow. Aur aap bol rahi hai 'just a teacher'?"
"Veer ji," she whispered.
"Haan?" He was still cupping her face, his thumb absently stroking her cheekbone.
"Aapki shirt."
"Oh." He blinked, seeming to remember where they were and what they were doing. "Haan. Sorry. Main bahut baat kar raha hoon na? Papa hamesha kehte the ki jab main chota tha, toh main bilkul quiet tha. Aur ab dekho. Aap ke saamne toh main chup hi nahi hota. Aapko bore toh nahi kar raha?"
"Nahi," Shriya said truthfully, returning to the buttons. "Bore nahi kar rahe."
She reached the last button, then helped him shrug out of the shirt. The white undershirt beneath was slightly damp with sweat, and Shriya determinedly did not look at the way it clung to his shoulders and chest.
"Chalo," she said briskly, standing up and extending her hand. "Bed tak chalte hai. Properly."
Veer looked at her hand like it was the most precious thing he'd ever been offered. He placed his hand in hers, so much larger that it engulfed hers completely and let her pull him to standing.
"Yeh stairs ko kisne itne saare bana diye?" Veer complained as they tackled the first step. "Lift kyun nahi hai?"
"Kyunki yeh mansion hai, hospital thodi. Ek ek step, dhyaan se."
When they reached the top of the staircase he couldn't help but stare.
"Aap bahut... bahut zyada achhi hain mere liye. Main toh... main toh bas... bus conductor."
"Bus conductor?" Shriya laughed.
"Haan!" Veer nodded enthusiastically. "Aur aap... aap Maharani. No, no, Rani bhi chhoti pad gayi. Aap toh... Samragyi. Empress! Jaise Jodha bai. Par zyada sundar.Unhone dekha hota aapko toh khud kehti, 'Akbar, chhodo mujhe, main kahan, Shriya ji kahan.'"
She giggled pinching his cheek cutely.
They reached the bedroom and Shriya nudged him toward the bed.
Veer collapsed onto it with a happy sigh, arms spread wide. "Bed! Mera bed! No, apna bed! Humara bed!" . Then his face scrunched up thoughtfully. "English mein yeh possessive pronouns bahut confusing hain. Hindi better hai. Hindi mein clear hai, tumhara, hamara." He patted the space next to him. "Tumhara matlab hamara. Come, Shriya ji."
Suddenly he stared at her, " aapki aakhen ek dam... kya kehte... haan! Deer jaisi hai.. Hiran"
Wait. Seriously. Kuch missing hai."
Then his eyes widened in realization, and before Shriya could understand what was happening, Veer lurched off the bed and stumbled toward her dresser.
"Veer ji, what—"
"Kajal!" He announced triumphantly, holding up her kajal dabbi. "Yeh! This is what's missing!" He turned to her.
"Aapki aankhon mein kajal nahi hai."
"Veer ji, it's one-thirty in the morning, main obviously remove—"
"Sit," he commanded with such authority she found herself obeying, sinking onto the edge of the bed.
Veer stood before her, swaying very slightly, then carefully lowered himself to his knees. The position put them nearly eye to eye.
"Yeh bahut zaruuri kaam hai. apki aankhein... bahut khoobsurat hain. Par kajal ke bina incomplete. Like... like pizza without cheese. Biryani without dum. Me without you."
"Veer ji—"
"Shhh." He pressed a finger to her lips, then immediately looked delighted by his own boldness and did it again.
He leaned in, his left hand coming up to cup her jaw with surprising gentleness, tilting her face toward the lamplight. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, and she shivered.
"Hold still," he whispered
His right hand, slightly unsteady but determined, brought the kajal to her lower lash line.
"Nahi, don't blink. Please. Shriya ji, please, just... thoda sa... yes. Like that. Perfect. Bilkul perfect."
"Dusri," he murmured, shifting slightly. His thumb stroked her cheek again, and she wondered if he knew he was doing it, this absent, soothing gesture. "Yeh wali zyada important hai. Yeh... yeh main favorite hai. Right side pe dimple hai aapka. Jab aap smile karti hain. Bahut chota. Par I notice."
He applied kajal to her other eye with the same gentle care, then sat back on his heels to examine his work.
"Perfect," he breathed. Then, louder "Nazar na lagni chahiye meri biwi ko."
Before she could respond, he winked and added with a playful grin, "Mere khud ki bhi nahi."
"Veer ji!"
But he was already standing, pulling her up with him, and then he started swaying. Right there in their bedroom, with no music, just him humming off-key and pulling her into a clumsy spin.
"Kajra mohabbat wala," he sang.
"Ankhiyon mein aisa dala!"
"Veer ji, please, everyone is sleeping—"
"Kajre ne le li meri jaan," he continued, spinning her again, and she had to grip his shoulders to keep from falling. "Haye re main tere kurbaan!"
"Veer ji—"
"Duniya hai mere peeche," he pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist, and even drunk he moved with a grace that surprised her, "Lekin main tere peeche!"
He dipped her like they were in some Bollywood movie.
"Apna bana le meri jaan," he sang directly to her face, his eyes bright with mischief and something deeper, something that made her chest ache. "Haye re main tere kurbaan!"
He pulled her back up, stumbled, caught himself against the bedpost, and grinned. "Better than Hrithik, na? Honestly?"
"Bilkul bhi nahi," she said.
"Chal Jhooti!" He looked scandalized. He pressed a hand to his heart dramatically. "How will I recover? Kaise? Kya karna padega?"
"Bed pe so jaiye recovery ke liye."
"Bed?" He brightened immediately. "Haan! Good idea! Best idea!"
He started to climb onto the bed, then paused, turned back to her with sudden concern. "Aap bhi aaogi na? Bed pe? Because yeh hamara bed hai. I remember. Possessive pronouns. Humne discuss kiya tha."
She moved toward the bed, and the moment she was close enough, Veer's arm shot out and pulled her down next to him with a delighted laugh.
"Caught you! Like... like Pokemon! Shriya-mon, I choose you!"
"That doesn't even make sense—"
"Everything makes sense when you're here," he said, and the sudden sincerity in his voice stopped her protests. He shifted onto his side, facing her, his hand finding hers on the pillow between them. "Shriya ji?"
"Haan?"
"Aap... aap bahut soft ho. Pata hai?"
She blinked. "Soft?"
"Haan." His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. "Like... like clouds. Rui. Cotton candy. Har cheez joh soft hoti hai. Aapki awaaz. Aapka haath. Jab aap muskurati hain toh... toh lagta hai everything will be okay. Jaise... jaise ghar aa gaya."
" You make this boring house feel like a home" he said.
"Veer ji—"
"Aap bahut zyada bol rahe hain," she whispered.
"Haan," he agreed cheerfully. "Kyunki usually nahi bol paata. Darr lagta hai. Kya soch logi? 'Yeh pagal hai?' 'Creepy hai?' 'Weird hai?' Par abhi..." He tapped his head. "Abhi yeh dimaag ne chutti le li. Dil bol raha hai. Aur dil kehta hai—'Shriya ji ko batao. Sab kuch batao.'"
"Veer ji, aapko neend—"
"Nahi! Neend nahi chahiye! Aap chahiye!" His arm wrapped around her waist.
"Don't go. Please don't go. Mat jao, Shriya ji. Please. Main... main theek rahoonga. Promise. Bas... bas yahan raho."
"Main kahin nahi ja rahi—"
"Pakka?" His face was buried in her shoulder now, his words muffled and he started crying.. "Kyunki bahut log jaate hain. Papa bhi... papa bhi kaam kaam kehke jaate hain. Mummy bhi. Akshay bhaiyya bhi jaate.Everyone leaves. Par aap... aap mat jana. Please."
"Main yahi hoon," she said softly, her free hand coming up to touch his hair. "Right here. Kahin nahi ja rahi."
"Good." He sighed contentedly, burrowing closer. "Very good. Best decision ever. Better than... than buying Apple stocks. Much better."
She felt him relax against her, his breathing evening out. Just when she thought he'd fallen asleep, he spoke again, voice barely a murmur.
"Shriya ji?"
"Hmmm?"
"Aap... aap mujhe like karti ho?"
Her breath caught. "Veer ji—"
"Thoda sa bhi? Even... even this much?" She couldn't see it, but she could tell from his voice that he was holding his fingers close together, indicating a tiny amount. "Bas... bas itna sa?"
"Sone dijiye ab," she whispered.
She felt him finally, truly relax into sleep, his arm still wrapped around her.
She lay there in the darkness, held by her drunk and wonderful husband, kajal smudged on her eyes because he thought she looked incomplete without it, her heart so full it physically hurt.
"Veer ji?" she whispered to his sleeping form.
She smiled making sure he was fully asleep, and pressed the lightest kiss to his forehead.Her lips lingering there longer than she ever had.
But he was already asleep, already dreaming, still holding her like she was the most precious thing in his world.
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