Then, now and forever

A/N: Thank you for dropping by and commenting on the previous posts. Here’s another of an old piece of story I’ve written. A story within this story of sorts, about a father and a daughter and their love stories. Silly, but sweet. Hope you like it.

__________

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind

Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine

Quiet thought come floating down

And settle softly to the ground

Like golden autumn leaves around my feet

I touched them and they burst apart with sweet memories,

Sweet memories

Of holding hands and red bouquets

And twilight trimmed in purple haze

And laughting eyes and simple ways

And quiet nights and gentle days with you

~~ Memories by Elvis Presley ~~

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December, 2016

The soft orange glow of early morning rays seeped in through the open windows, illuminating his peacefully sleeping face. His dark, jet black hair the unruly nest that badly needed a cut, curled around her fingertips as she watched in fascination, the softened features and a wistful smile that managed to find its permanent residence instead of his usual frown, and his electrifying blue iris that resembled serene ocean. The ivory white duvet wrapped around his thighs, the scratches on his shoulders and back glistering like copper against his olive, sun tanned skin. An involuntary chuckle escaped as she propped herself up further, leaning onto him, the certainty in the knowledge that she had done that to him – that she would be the only one to ever do that to him – setting her ablaze with content happiness. Her hand shot out, fingers caressing along his jawline. She was sure she would find her face and neck now tingled in copper, too. She’d need extra touching, she mused. She wouldn’t want the guests to know just how amazing the last night of her single life had been. No, she shook her head, suppressing a chuckle, though she knew she couldn’t fool anyone. After all, it was a simple ceremony with family and close friends.

The rippling of the distant Sea brought with it the memories of their first meeting, as she scooped herself into his arms, chuckling when his arm reached around for her hip, angling himself to take her to the bliss of their own, his breathing in sync with hers, his heart beating to the rhythm of ocean waves, calming her nerves as she closed her eyes, willing to enjoy the last moments with him before she was dragged away. She shook her head, chiding herself for acting like a lovesick teenager. And then she laughed. She might not be a teenager, but she was definitely lovesick, madly and deeply in love with this wonder of a man.

Anahita Singh Raizada was a firm believer of love at first sight. She had always dreamed of meeting her prince charming and that she would know the moment she set eyes on him. She had grown up listening to fairy tales, and her parents’ story was by far her favorite. And she deemed it fit to follow their path, to find the man of her dreams, to fall in love – the kind that gives you strength to face and fight the world, just like her mother and father. After all, love was supposed to be beautiful, even in its worst days. Or so, that was what she thought.

Yet, when her paths crossed with Samuel Gill, all she saw was rage at the arrogant man who cared a damn about her friend’s emotions. She had wanted to rip his head off for breaking her friend’s heart. The man was a man-whore, she had concluded after meeting him, and not worthy of anyone’s love. It didn’t matter that he was her father’s favorite student. All she was aware of was that Samuel had slept with almost all of her friends. Her father had laughed when she demanded him to not train the man in question. She had sworn to never talk to her father if he did. Their meetings ended with arguments which almost always blown out of proportion. As the days passed by with his frequent visits when her father and he were off-duty, their arguments subsided in its intensity. What were termed as the men discussing about pilots soon turned out to be their little moments of shared views. Her apartment housed their coffee dates as her father slowly, but surely let his meeting with Samuel “slip off” as the elder man set out for a long walk with his own peers. And before they both realized, they were on their first official dinner date, and then two, and then a series of them.

His laughter was what had first drawn her towards him. He smirked, of course. But his smiles were rare and his laughter was impossible. That was what her friends had told her when she first came home after two months of travelling right after her graduation. She had been struggling with new job as an Architect, one of the initial projects she’d been handling that would prove her talent to her then boss – a gateway of opportunity. He had come home that night, and grinned widely when her father had given permission to crash on their couch. That was the moment when Anahita saw Samuel for the man he was, and could be, and not some Casanova everyone warned about. He had stayed by her side the whole night, re-filling her carafe and making sure she had everything she needed. That night, they had talked about their interests, goals and dreams. That night, things changed. There were no arguments and no judgments. He had asked her out the next weekend and there was no looking back ever since.

Six years later, they were here, in each other’s arms, waiting for the moment they’d whisper two simple words and seal the deal with a kiss.

It wasn’t a perfect fairy tale that she had envisioned for herself. And definitely not the kind she grew up listening about her parents. No, theirs was perfect – enthralling – and hers was… she shook her head at her own silliness. Hers was as beautiful as any love. There was no other man she would rather want waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Yet, hers was her second favorite. First would always be her parents.

“Having second thoughts already?”

Anahita shrieked in his arms, tilting her head to lose herself in the depths of his oceanic blues. No, she mused. But she wasn’t going to say it out loud. He knew it. She knew it that he knew there was no one else they would want to spend the rest of their lives. Yet, that teasing grin as he looked down at her, those long lashes that kissed his cheeks while he arched a brow sardonically ensured that theirs would be as exciting with their harmless fights as it was now. If anything, time would only intensify their love.

“I do.” She laughed, the silver of her musical note accompanied with waves rippling at the distance and cheerful crippling of birds. In an hour, the residents of the private beach would be up and ready, enjoying their D-day, making it memorable for them. In an hour, their friends would drag them away, to spend last moments of their bachelor day doing whatever they’d usually do. But she’d care less, she knew. Her mind would be occupied with his thoughts, just the way his would.

In a flash of movement, he flipped her over on her back, his hands trapping hers over her head, his head leaned in, hot breath fanning on her trembling lips. “I’d like to see it myself, Mrs. Gill.” He whispered, brushing his lips against hers in a feather kiss. She felt her body arching against his as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, kissing her collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue soothing the pleasurable pain.

Anahita closed her eyes, a throaty moan escaping as her breaths heaved. “Not yet,” she pointed out, knowing it would make no effect on him. “Not until tonight, Captain Gill. I can always say no.”

He tilted his head, smirking while gripping her wrists in one hand, the other trailing down her arm, hips and inner thigh, moving down lower on her heated center, fingers gazing her skin sinuously, dangerously. “You can,” he agreed, eyes glistering as she moaned his name. “Oh, so sweet, Anu. So sexy, and mine.”

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Salt Rim private resort was teeming with guests, while soft instrumental music filled the morning breeze. The shoreline was aglow with glass hurricane candles, the white sand covered with rose petals and the beach was decorated with red, blue and white velvet wedding tents billowing with warm breeze. Its afforested mountain backdrop and the serene Arabian Sea were breath takingly romantic and the perfect place for the destination wedding of Anahita Singh Raizada and Samuel Gill. The weather was frenzy and Christmas and New Year Eve doubled the festivity in the air. As she walked along the shoreline, her feet sinking into the wet sand, her arms encircling his forearm and head rested against his shoulder, Anahita couldn’t ask for more. Smiling at the teeming guests, she looked around for the glimpse of her father and soon enough, spotted him few feet away from them, surrounded by a team of resort staff.

She paused; her mouth curved up into a pride smile as she watched her Papa instructing the helping staff. Dressed in a steel grey and white tuxedo that she had forced on him for her wedding day, a silver tie that was handpicked by Samuel as a souvenir from Spain, Arnav Singh Raizada was as handsome as ever, the subtle silver sideburns only adding to his sexiness. She didn’t need to go there to understand what was going on. She was positively sure that her Papa was scaring the poor team off, promising dire consequences if they messed up with anything on his baby girl’s D-day.

“Remind me again,” Samuel whispered in her ear, nudging her earlobe with his nose, “why is it that I liked that ol’ man?”

Anahita laughed, her body reverberating against his as they made their way towards him. “Because he shared his amazingly experienced tips on how to bed women?” She teased with a grin, “not that you needed any.”

“Or,” Samuel shrugged nonchalantly, “it was the other way round. The ol’ man just trained me how to marvel on piloting while I set him up with dates.”

Anahita rolled her eyes. It was a known fact that Arnav Singh Raizada was, what young people fondly referred as, today’s Ranjha. He was the one they look up for relationship goals and his easy stance towards love encouraged the young couple to reach out to him and worship the path he walked on. She was acutely aware that her boyfriend – fiancé of three years – approached her father firsthand in order to have some of the valuable tips on how to pop the question with an assured positive response.

“Don’t let people hear you, Sam. I don’t want you to ruin my wedding day.” She rumbled in a deep, amusing tone, her eyes caught his for a brief second before they rested on the elder man.

At fifty-five, Arnav Singh Raizada was as ruggedly handsome as ever. Men adored him and women fell head over heels with him. She grew up watching her Papa surrounded by women from all age groups. Her teachers, neighbors, friend’s mothers and aunties – even her own friends from University – dreamed about spending their time with him. Anahita would laugh, shaking her head. No chance, she would say. Not because she didn’t want her Papa to date any of them. She did, and she knew some, if not most, were surely worth her Papa. But the man was not interested. His attention was arrested by one woman, and he was so deeply into her that he wouldn’t want to settle down for anyone else.

Her body trembled in her fiancé’s arms as she felt a familiar piercing shot a sharp pain in her heart. The warm breeze suddenly turned into cold chill, wafting her around in a whirlpool of emotions. His arms tightened as he pulled her further into him, kissing her temple, lips lingering a moment longer while she closed her eyes, knowing that she wasn’t going to be alone in this. That Samuel would help her, just as much she knew he would help her Papa.

“Ma is happy for us, sweetheart.” His whispered words kissed along her jawline, his arms snaking around her waist as he turned her around to him. He leaned in, lips against hers in feather kisses. “She’s here with us.”

She smiled, sighing against his lips. Of course, she could feel her Ma’s presence – feel it in her Papa’s twinkling eyes, in his teasing smiles, in his seducing winks and harmless flirting. She had always felt it in her Papa’s fingers that still ruffled her hair just before she was off to bed. She felt it in his scrambled eggs and bacons – the only edible breakfast he’d known how to when he married her, and later, the only breakfast he enjoyed with memories of their silly arguments over parathas and pizzas. Now, as her bare feet washed with rippling waves, the sing-songs of local birds and with her two most beautiful men by her side, she felt her Ma in her own smile.

__________

A local bangle store

Chandni Chowk, Delhi

India

July,1986

Arnav Singh Raizada was not known for his patience, not when his patience was demanded by something other than the Control Wheel and Throttle Levers. His eyes, the molten liquid, burned with annoyance as he looked around at the bustling shoppers. It was a bad idea; he had known it before he agreed to accompany them for shopping. Not that he was given much of a choice. No, that was not something the family was used to. They all worshiped the grounds of the patriarch. His father, a local real estate businessman, dictated things and was usually followed with no questions asked. But not him. It was not in him to follow orders. He would like to live life on his own terms, and that was novel to most people in their society. It was outrageous. It was disrespecting elders. It was a scam, one that leads to degrading of reputations. But he never cared. He couldn’t, not when he knew that would only lead to his own hollow life. So, when his father wanted him to enroll in B.Com and join the family in their business, a fast growing at that, Arnav held onto his ground, fighting for his sanity and managed to join the air force. He worked his way, working odd jobs and refused any financial aid from his father and proved to be a promising pilot, so much that four years into it and he was the Captain’s first-officer – two more years and there was no looking back.

He looked down at the bags in his hands. He had been home for just two days, visiting for the first time in five years, hoping that things would have changed. But his determined father decided to surprise him with one of his grand schemes that the elder man seemed perfect for his younger son. He had announced his wedding with one of his friend’s daughter, one Arnav wasn’t interested in. He had argued, tried to convince, that he was not ready to get married. That shocked the entire family, close friends and relatives alike. They had stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown three more heads. That it was not him but the bad company he was being friends with. That he just didn’t know what was in best interests for him. After all, he was twenty-seven and still not married. What would society call him? Them? His great-grandmother had wailed, shortly followed by his grandmother, mother and paternal aunt. The whole sentimental outburst suffocated him so much that he had thrown his hands and screamed a forced “yes”.

That had been a mistake too, he realized as soon as he uttered that small, simple word. Not only was he now responsible for spoiling someone’s life, he was going to be the one to be blamed for evoking disrupts between two close families.

Yet, there was an unaware arrogance in his stance as he strode into one of the many bangle stores while the women in his family busied themselves to select a few dozens for the upcoming wedding of the youngest son. The white shirt fitted his torso in an immaculately handsome way, the broad, stiff shoulders and angular bronze plans were faintly hinted beneath. His stood tall at six feet two, his jawline clenched as he rolled at the meaningless confusion over a pair of bangles. The confidence streak radiated off his intellectual shrewdness ensured the desired effect on the women. It would have amused him if he was aware of the attention his presence demanded, but Arnav was far from caring about others. His eyes were set on the wedding, coming up with several of excuses and reasons as to why he was not the right one for the chosen bride.

It was with these thoughts that he dropped the bags at the foot of the uncomfortable wooden chair as he plopped rather tiredly, that his eyes greeted with a vision he couldn’t shook off his mind. There was the girl, not a day old than Eighteen, talking animatedly with another of her age while fingers tracing a set of bangles. Her eyes were innocent, instantly drawing him towards hers, her laughter a soothing melody he hadn’t known was possible and her childish beauty with delicate features. So he found himself staring at her, chuckling at her frown and her rather amusing confusion as she inspected two set of designs, weighing her options – one in forest green that reminded him of a spring evening, dancing along the slender frame of her creamy wrist – and the other in darkest of red he’d ever seen, a shade so akin to the rawness of early morning rays, his eyes darkened as he watched them dangling on her wrist, his lips curving up into a soft smile, heart picking up its erratic beats in sync with the soothing musical notes of her bangles. He sighed, straightening off the chair. He would get used to falling asleep and waking up to the chimes of her bangles.

“I can’t decide.” Her voice filtered through as he neared them. “Jiji, why aren’t you helping me?”

There was a slight scowl marring her brows and a disappointment in her voice. He chuckled. Oh, he could spend the rest of his life helping her decide, he mused, even if it meant spending half of it in the lanes of Chandni Chowk.

“That’s because, Khushi, you’ll not consider my opinion and end up picking the one you like the most.” The other pointed out with a teasing chuckle before moving to the other side of the counter.

Arnav smiled to himself as he slide along the way, standing beside her. “They’re beautiful.” He said with a soft smile, his eyes set on hers, watching her intently, taking in the sharp tilt of her head, the frown deepening for a second before relaxing, lips that were about to reply was now formed in a perfect O and eyes wide and round. The scowl was soon replaced by an unknown emotion that he knew was mirrored in his own.

He was not a man to let his imagination draw biased conclusions. He was practical, and had a rather sharp instincts when it comes to people he met. That or he was so fascinated by her that Arnav didn’t know why he said what he said in that next moment. But as years passed by, he realized that it was what he would come to believe at love at first sight. That day, however, all he knew was he wanted her to have everything she liked, that he would go to any lengths to ensure the smile on her face.

“I love both the sets, Khushi.”

__________

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December,2016

“As much I like to welcome you to the family as my son-in-law, I’m afraid I’d give in to the internal rage and leave you with a black eye and a bleeding nose if you don’t stop making out with my daughter right in front of hundreds to see.”

Arnav Singh Raizada warned as he walked towards the young couple, a glass of sparkling Vodka nursed in his hands, swirling the amber liquid while eyes fixed on the young man. Fighting off a rather amused grin as he watched his baby girl flushed at the off-handed comments, Arnav arched a brow at a sulking man. A soothing laughter echoed in his mind, halting his steps midway as it shook his frame with his own rumble of chuckle. His wife would have laughed at his futile attempts at being an intimidating father-in-law. And he knew, if there was anyone in the whole wide world that would consider him seriously, it would be the five-year kid that lived next door, except for the time when he was behind his Control Wheels. Shaking his head at the train of thoughts that lingered in his mind every second of every day since the moment he laid eyes on the woman he had ever loved, Arnav let out a relaxed sigh, his eyes taking in the sight of his baby girl and her to-be husband.

She wore a rose-pink silk Saree, the golden work on the pallu illuminating the almond hazel eyes with streaks of golden green, matched with a silver full sleeve blouse. Arnav remembered the day they shopped for hours and zeroed in on this particular saree – his baby girl and he – to surprise his wife on their fifteenth anniversary. She had been surprised to find it neatly wrapped on the bed just before midnight. She had instantly fallen in love with the saree. A smile chirped as Arnav sipped his drink – that was his Khushi, always smiling and falling in love with everything she laid eyes on. His eyes studied his daughter – the younger version of his wife – the red and green bangles adorned her wrists. His eyes narrowed, frown deepening at the sight. Weren’t glass bangles supposed to crack over time? He wasn’t sure. But he realized, a low chuckle rumbling his frame, his Khushi and her thrive for immaculate perfection, would have taken necessary precautions to safeguard the set of bangles that brought them together.

Beside her, with his arm snaked around her waist, stood the man in all his glory. When Arnav met Samuel almost a decade ago as one of the team that he was supposed to train that year, he had instantly liked the young man. He was determined, hard working with single minded focus, and was not comfortable in taking orders. In him, Arnav saw his younger form. He had known then that Samuel Gill would, in no time, prove his worth and be the Caption. They had spent most of their leisure time together –talking about aircrafts at times and simply enjoying companiable silence at others.

The moment when he watched their rather heated argument on their first meet, Arnav was convinced that Anahita and Samuel would end up with each other. His experienced eyes recognized the instant attraction they felt for each other but were too stubborn to accept it. So he had made sure they cross their paths, though there was little effort from his side. Samuel did the most of it, anyways; he had laughed when the man balled up and approached his daughter, frequenting his visits more often and few minutes that stretched to hours. He had excused himself, their scheduled meeting “accidentally” slipping his mind, all the while counting days, enjoying the romance blooming in his own garden.

Anahita slide off from his arms, smiling at Arnav as her arms encircled his, head tilted, eyes looking at him with childish excitement. And he knew, just like all these years, she wanted to hear his story. Once again.

“One last time,” Anahita asked, her voice thrilled as she pouted, “today more than ever.”

And as Arnav closed his eyes, he felt it, the cold breeze caressing his free hand, waves crashing at his feet, drowning him in the memories of his Khushi.

__________

Lakshmi Nagar

Delhi

India

July,1986

He had stormed off, third time in a week followed by that short trip to Chandni Chowk. He was not being rational, he knew it. And the fact only intensified his confusion. The image of almond hazel flashed in his mind ever since and all he had dreamt was waking up to the chimes of her bangles. He had tried to talk to his father, let the man know that he could not marry the bride of his choice when Arnav himself felt drawn to the stranger he had all but spent two minutes in a bustling store. It would have been just that, he thought with a deep scowl, suppressing back the colorful profanities at the helplessness, had she picked one and walk past him with her sister. But no, the girl had to go ahead and purchase both the sets, and turn around to look at him with a shy smile as they turned the corner. That was all it took for him to make up his mind. He would be damned if he married anyone else but her.

Arnav felt restless seeping as he walked aimlessly. He had never thought about falling in love or spending the rest of his life with a girl. He needed to leave, to go back and join the crew. He would only be able to gather his ragged emotions once he was tugged behind his haven. Flying had been his passion ever since he was a kid. That was the problem. He had been steadily on the ground for over a week now, and that was unsettling him. What other reasons could justify his uncontrollable attraction he felt for a stranger? And the dreams…? Those toe curling, breath taking, insanely satisfying, passionate love making….

He shook his head. No, he wouldn’t go there! He was not some hormonal teenager for crying out loud. He closed his eyes in frustration. So what she was pretty? Gorgeous, even? It was not like she was the only beautiful woman. Yet, those eyes as they stared into his… that smile as if… as if she felt that electrifying spark… yes, that was it. She felt it too. But what now? He looked around, his muddled mind trying to gather his surroundings. How could he find her in the good old city? There had to be a way, his thoughts were a desperate plea as he looked up above the clear sky. There had to be something, anything, that could help him meet her.

One thing Arnav always believed in was to give his best. And so, he would search for her. No matter how long it would take for him to reach her, he would. He was, after all, a man with determined focus. With a smile, he turned around, each step seeping his confidence as he strode along the way, slowing near the temple. A quick prayer and he would be on his way back home.

And, as though luck bestowed its choicest blessings on him, he saw her, standing at the top step on the flight of stairs. Eyes closed, her puja plate raised to match her eye level, and hair braided loosely over her shoulder – there she was, Khushi, the early evening’s rays aglow from her behind. Was it coincidence? Arnav thought while blinking. Or was it fate? Any other time, he would have scowled at the mere word. Not today. His smile bemused as he walked towards her, each step slow, calculative and deliberate. His smile widening as he watched, smirking, satisfied, at the slightest widening of her eyes and faint hint of rose tinge on her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, her lips trembling, teeth nibbling her lower lip, rooted on her ground. Waiting.

“We met again.” Arnav pointed out, laughing silently at her flushed face. Ah, he would get so damn used to her sight, he concluded as soft breeze engulfed them in its cocoon. Her nod was all he needed to breathe in relief. “I can’t risk not knowing where you live.” He said, his voice low and soft, a soothing whisper to their restless souls.

Khushi didn’t look up at him, neither did she reply. She walked, instead, past him. And he followed. No words spoken, no feelings admitted and no promises made. He had said it all, in the silence as they walked, her five steps ahead of him, and she heard it. Several minutes later, she paused for a brief moment, still not looking at him. He stood there, waiting, watching, while with a swift nod, Khushi crossed the narrowed pathway and disappeared into the house. He would come back; he nodded when she re-appeared at her window. And he would take her home with him.

__________

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December,2016

“That was the beginning of a beautiful journey, one that filled with love, mutual adoration and individual identity.” Arnav smiled down at his daughter. A carefree laugh reverberated his frame as he looked around, nodding in acknowledgement at his friends at a distance. It still amazed him, caught his breath, as he reminisced those days and his own foolishness. But he never cared about the names he rightfully earned thereafter. His family had called him selfish man who wouldn’t stop his madness and hell bent on ruining their reputation. They had threatened to disown him. He chuckled then, shaking his head. Oh yeah, he thought yet again just as he saw an elder man walk in, along with his family – his father.

An unknown sigh of relief washed over as Arnav watched his father taking in the grand celebration of his only daughter. His eyes were twinkling at the family with pride, a brow arched sardonically. Look, he would have said if he were three decades younger, how he not only had a happy ending to his love story, but also earned his name in their society. He was no more a young, impulsive son without an ounce of respect towards his elders. He was now a well renowned pilot, a successful man and a loving father who had everything to make sure his daughter lived in the lap of luxury.

“And?”

Samuel propped, bringing Arnav out of his reverie. He smiled at the young couple, his hand taking in his baby girl’s in a gentle squeeze. “Your Dadaji is here.” He informed and watched her dashing towards the family, greeting them with a broad smile.

“You’re still not in good terms with them, are you, ol’ man?” Samuel asked a moment later, forcing Arnav to shift his gaze from his daughter to his son-in-law.

“I’m not a saint, Sammy. All I can remember is their insults when I took Khushi home.” His voice shivered, the sudden urge to slam his fist into a wall itching as he struggled with his internal rage. Khushi had forgiven them the second those words tumbled out of their families. She had no bone in her to hold grudge against anyone. “She loved them for the both of us, and I hated them just the same.”

He could see Samuel’s eyes fixed on him. There were many things the younger man didn’t know about the intimate details of his love life. Though Arnav doubt Anahita to not share his story, they had never had a one-on-one conversation. And now, as they turned their gazes to the one woman they both loved unconditionally, he knew it was the time to share his life’s most intimate details with the man in his daughter’s life.

“She was from typical conservative Bihari family. A family with blind faith in old traditions and inequality between genders is what sets the society in its rightful way of living.” Arnav stated plainly, the silver in his tone a mocking at such blindly followed custom. “In the two months that followed our second meeting, she had been anything but that. She was a free spirit with a desire to travel the world, craved for freedom. She promised that she would wait, that the wedding had to take place with the families’ consent and that it would either be me or none but eloping was out of question.”

“But you did…” his voice broke off just as Anahita reached them, her hand tugging itself in her fiancé’s waiting hand.

“This,” her chirpy voice filled the warm air, “is the one, Dadaji. Samuel Gill.” She then looked straight at him, her eyes twinkling as brightly as ever, “and Sammy, meet my Dadaji, Aakash Tauji, Tai, their children…”

Samuel shook each of their hands with a polite smile, all the while aware of the stiffness in his ol’ man. He titled to look at him, just as Arnav’s fingers caressed the silver band on his left ring finger.

__________

Indira Gandhi International Airport

Delhi

India

November,1986

“Are you okay, Raizada?”

He considered it for a second as they cleared the cockpit after landing the flight, checking it for any loose ends. Was he okay? He had been asking the same over and over again for the past three weeks – Twenty-one damned days that he was away from home, away from her. He didn’t want to go on this trip. For some unknown reason, he had been restless when the Captain informed them about their schedules being filled for the next few weeks. Quire unease settled down as he closed his eyes in those few stolen moments, with her. She had brushed it off with a smile, encouraged him to not give up on his dreams and duties. Three weeks of void weighed down on his shoulders, slumping his frame further down as they stepped out of the cockpit and made their way towards the vehicle that would take them to the terminal.

No, a small voice replied at the back of his head. He was not ok, and would never be if he were to survive another week of emptiness. He needed to see her, talk to her and be with her. The last one month had been stressful with arguments and fights turning into a dirty mess. He had successfully convinced the bride’s father about his inability to make his daughter happy, and then approached his own father about his love for Khushi. The elder man had allowed Arnav to talk for five minutes before stomping off the room. Things at her house were no different. They made it clear that they’d never allow their daughter marry off a Rajasthani nomad.

Now, as he walked into the waiting longue, he was convinced that something was off. He needed to see her, and he needed to see her now. He couldn’t take it anymore. In a swift motion, he blocked the Captain’s way as words rushed out. “I’m not okay, Capt. Jha. I need to go, see my…”

“Raizada,” Captain Shyam Jha cut him off with a knowing smile, tilting his head at something behind him. “I guess that is the one that made you desperate these past weeks, right.”

Arnav stared at the man, unsure of how to respond. But before he could comprehend a coherent response, his torso acted on its own, turning around and his eyes falling on the petite form running towards him, the flash of red and gold weaving in air as bangles chimed around them. He stood there, rooted to the ground, hands shot up and wrapped around the fragile girl as she threw herself on him. Whispers of broken words rushed out against his ear as Arnav buried his head in the crook of her neck, easing her pain with closed eyes.

“I tried to…” Khushi stuttered with uncontrollable sobs, “I tried not to… to run away… but I couldn’t… mar..ry…”

“Shh,” he held her teary face in between his palms, fingers stroking her cheeks, “you’re here now, Khushi. You’re with me…”

She then looked at him, a small, shaky laugh erupted from her throat as she asked, her voice rasped in a soft whisper, “Marry me?”

__________

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December,2016

“We, Samuel James Gill and Anahita Arnav Raizada, in love, respect and loyalty, take each other, to be our wedded partner, to share the love that never wavers, and do our utmost best to understand, support and encourage one other in every aspect of life, to lead a better life, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, in joys and in sorrows. As we stand before our families, we promise to love one other, then, now and forever, with strength so powerful that nothing, not even death, can separate us.”

__________

Then, now and forever

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind

Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine

Quiet thought come floating down

And settle softly to the ground

Like golden autumn leaves around my feet

I touched them and they burst apart with sweet memories,

Sweet memories

Of holding hands and red bouquets

And twilight trimmed in purple haze

And laughting eyes and simple ways

And quiet nights and gentle days with you

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December, 2016

The soft orange glow of early morning rays seeped in through the open windows, illuminating his peacefully sleeping face. His dark, jet black hair the unruly nest that badly needed a cut, curled around her fingertips as she watched in fascination, the softened features and a wistful smile that managed to find its permanent residence instead of his usual frown, and his electrifying blue iris that resembled serene ocean. The ivory white duvet wrapped around his thighs, the scratches on his shoulders and back glistering like copper against his olive, sun tanned skin. An involuntary chuckle escaped as she propped herself up further, leaning onto him, the certainty in the knowledge that she had done that to him – that she would be the only one to ever do that to him – setting her ablaze with content happiness. Her hand shot out, fingers caressing along his jawline. She was sure she would find her face and neck now tingled in copper, too. She’d need extra touching, she mused. She wouldn’t want the guests to know just how amazing the last night of her single life had been. No, she shook her head, suppressing a chuckle, though she knew she couldn’t fool anyone. After all, it was a simple ceremony with family and close friends.

The rippling of the distant Sea brought with it the memories of their first meeting, as she scooped herself into his arms, chuckling when his arm reached around for her hip, angling himself to take her to the bliss of their own, his breathing in sync with hers, his heart beating to the rhythm of ocean waves, calming her nerves as she closed her eyes, willing to enjoy the last moments with him before she was dragged away. She shook her head, chiding herself for acting like a lovesick teenager. And then she laughed. She might not be a teenager, but she was definitely lovesick, madly and deeply in love with this wonder of a man.

Anahita Singh Raizada was a firm believer of love at first sight. She had always dreamed of meeting her prince charming and that she would know the moment she set eyes on him. She had grown up listening to fairy tales, and her parents’ story was by far her favorite. And she deemed it fit to follow their path, to find the man of her dreams, to fall in love – the kind that gives you strength to face and fight the world, just like her mother and father. After all, love was supposed to be beautiful, even in its worst days. Or so, that was what she thought.

Yet, when her paths crossed with Samuel Gill, all she saw was rage at the arrogant man who cared a damn about her friend’s emotions. She had wanted to rip his head off for breaking her friend’s heart. The man was a man-whore, she had concluded after meeting him, and not worthy of anyone’s love. It didn’t matter that he was her father’s favorite student. All she was aware of was that Samuel had slept with almost all of her friends. Her father had laughed when she demanded him to not train the man in question. She had sworn to never talk to her father if he did. Their meetings ended with arguments which almost always blown out of proportion. As the days passed by with his frequent visits when her father and he were off-duty, their arguments subsided in its intensity. What were termed as the men discussing about pilots soon turned out to be their little moments of shared views. Her apartment housed their coffee dates as her father slowly, but surely let his meeting with Samuel “slip off” as the elder man set out for a long walk with his own peers. And before they both realized, they were on their first official dinner date, and then two, and then a series of them.

His laughter was what had first drawn her towards him. He smirked, of course. But his smiles were rare and his laughter was impossible. That was what her friends had told her when she first came home after two months of travelling right after her graduation. She had been struggling with new job as an Architect, one of the initial projects she’d been handling that would prove her talent to her then boss – a gateway of opportunity. He had come home that night, and grinned widely when her father had given permission to crash on their couch. That was the moment when Anahita saw Samuel for the man he was, and could be, and not some Casanova everyone warned about. He had stayed by her side the whole night, re-filling her carafe and making sure she had everything she needed. That night, they had talked about their interests, goals and dreams. That night, things changed. There were no arguments and no judgments. He had asked her out the next weekend and there was no looking back ever since.

Six years later, they were here, in each other’s arms, waiting for the moment they’d whisper two simple words and seal the deal with a kiss.

It wasn’t a perfect fairy tale that she had envisioned for herself. And definitely not the kind she grew up listening about her parents. No, theirs was perfect – enthralling – and hers was… she shook her head at her own silliness. Hers was as beautiful as any love. There was no other man she would rather want waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Yet, hers was her second favorite. First would always be her parents.

“Having second thoughts already?”

Anahita shrieked in his arms, tilting her head to lose herself in the depths of his oceanic blues. No, she mused. But she wasn’t going to say it out loud. He knew it. She knew it that he knew there was no one else they would want to spend the rest of their lives. Yet, that teasing grin as he looked down at her, those long lashes that kissed his cheeks while he arched a brow sardonically ensured that theirs would be as exciting with their harmless fights as it was now. If anything, time would only intensify their love.

“I do.” She laughed, the silver of her musical note accompanied with waves rippling at the distance and cheerful crippling of birds. In an hour, the residents of the private beach would be up and ready, enjoying their D-day, making it memorable for them. In an hour, their friends would drag them away, to spend last moments of their bachelor day doing whatever they’d usually do. But she’d care less, she knew. Her mind would be occupied with his thoughts, just the way his would.

In a flash of movement, he flipped her over on her back, his hands trapping hers over her head, his head leaned in, hot breath fanning on her trembling lips. “I’d like to see it myself, Mrs. Gill.” He whispered, brushing his lips against hers in a feather kiss. She felt her body arching against his as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, kissing her collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue soothing the pleasurable pain.

Anahita closed her eyes, a throaty moan escaping as her breaths heaved. “Not yet,” she pointed out, knowing it would make no effect on him. “Not until tonight, Captain Gill. I can always say no.”

He tilted his head, smirking while gripping her wrists in one hand, the other trailing down her arm, hips and inner thigh, moving down lower on her heated center, fingers gazing her skin sinuously, dangerously. “You can,” he agreed, eyes glistering as she moaned his name. “Oh, so sweet, Anu. So sexy, and mine.”

__________

Salt Rim private resort was teeming with guests, while soft instrumental music filled the morning breeze. The shoreline was aglow with glass hurricane candles, the white sand covered with rose petals and the beach was decorated with red, blue and white velvet wedding tents billowing with warm breeze. Its afforested mountain backdrop and the serene Arabian Sea were breath takingly romantic and the perfect place for the destination wedding of Anahita Singh Raizada and Samuel Gill. The weather was frenzy and Christmas and New Year Eve doubled the festivity in the air. As she walked along the shoreline, her feet sinking into the wet sand, her arms encircling his forearm and head rested against his shoulder, Anahita couldn’t ask for more. Smiling at the teeming guests, she looked around for the glimpse of her father and soon enough, spotted him few feet away from them, surrounded by a team of resort staff.

She paused; her mouth curved up into a pride smile as she watched her Papa instructing the helping staff. Dressed in a steel grey and white tuxedo that she had forced on him for her wedding day, a silver tie that was handpicked by Samuel as a souvenir from Spain, Arnav Singh Raizada was as handsome as ever, the subtle silver sideburns only adding to his sexiness. She didn’t need to go there to understand what was going on. She was positively sure that her Papa was scaring the poor team off, promising dire consequences if they messed up with anything on his baby girl’s D-day.

“Remind me again,” Samuel whispered in her ear, nudging her earlobe with his nose, “why is it that I liked that ol’ man?”

Anahita laughed, her body reverberating against his as they made their way towards him. “Because he shared his amazingly experienced tips on how to bed women?” She teased with a grin, “not that you needed any.”

“Or,” Samuel shrugged nonchalantly, “it was the other way round. The ol’ man just trained me how to marvel on piloting while I set him up with dates.”

Anahita rolled her eyes. It was a known fact that Arnav Singh Raizada was, what young people fondly referred as, today’s Ranjha. He was the one they look up for relationship goals and his easy stance towards love encouraged the young couple to reach out to him and worship the path he walked on. She was acutely aware that her boyfriend – fiancé of three years – approached her father firsthand in order to have some of the valuable tips on how to pop the question with an assured positive response.

“Don’t let people hear you, Sam. I don’t want you to ruin my wedding day.” She rumbled in a deep, amusing tone, her eyes caught his for a brief second before they rested on the elder man.

At fifty-five, Arnav Singh Raizada was as ruggedly handsome as ever. Men adored him and women fell head over heels with him. She grew up watching her Papa surrounded by women from all age groups. Her teachers, neighbors, friend’s mothers and aunties – even her own friends from University – dreamed about spending their time with him. Anahita would laugh, shaking her head. No chance, she would say. Not because she didn’t want her Papa to date any of them. She did, and she knew some, if not most, were surely worth her Papa. But the man was not interested. His attention was arrested by one woman, and he was so deeply into her that he wouldn’t want to settle down for anyone else.

Her body trembled in her fiancé’s arms as she felt a familiar piercing shot a sharp pain in her heart. The warm breeze suddenly turned into cold chill, wafting her around in a whirlpool of emotions. His arms tightened as he pulled her further into him, kissing her temple, lips lingering a moment longer while she closed her eyes, knowing that she wasn’t going to be alone in this. That Samuel would help her, just as much she knew he would help her Papa.

“Ma is happy for us, sweetheart.” His whispered words kissed along her jawline, his arms snaking around her waist as he turned her around to him. He leaned in, lips against hers in feather kisses. “She’s here with us.”

She smiled, sighing against his lips. Of course, she could feel her Ma’s presence – feel it in her Papa’s twinkling eyes, in his teasing smiles, in his seducing winks and harmless flirting. She had always felt it in her Papa’s fingers that still ruffled her hair just before she was off to bed. She felt it in his scrambled eggs and bacons – the only edible breakfast he’d known how to when he married her, and later, the only breakfast he enjoyed with memories of their silly arguments over parathas and pizzas. Now, as her bare feet washed with rippling waves, the sing-songs of local birds and with her two most beautiful men by her side, she felt her Ma in her own smile.

__________

A local bangle store

Chandni Chowk, Delhi

India

July,1986

Arnav Singh Raizada was not known for his patience, not when his patience was demanded by something other than the Control Wheel and Throttle Levers. His eyes, the molten liquid, burned with annoyance as he looked around at the bustling shoppers. It was a bad idea; he had known it before he agreed to accompany them for shopping. Not that he was given much of a choice. No, that was not something the family was used to. They all worshiped the grounds of the patriarch. His father, a local real estate businessman, dictated things and was usually followed with no questions asked. But not him. It was not in him to follow orders. He would like to live life on his own terms, and that was novel to most people in their society. It was outrageous. It was disrespecting elders. It was a scam, one that leads to degrading of reputations. But he never cared. He couldn’t, not when he knew that would only lead to his own hollow life. So, when his father wanted him to enroll in B.Com and join the family in their business, a fast growing at that, Arnav held onto his ground, fighting for his sanity and managed to join the air force. He worked his way, working odd jobs and refused any financial aid from his father and proved to be a promising pilot, so much that four years into it and he was the Captain’s first-officer – two more years and there was no looking back.

He looked down at the bags in his hands. He had been home for just two days, visiting for the first time in five years, hoping that things would have changed. But his determined father decided to surprise him with one of his grand schemes that the elder man seemed perfect for his younger son. He had announced his wedding with one of his friend’s daughter, one Arnav wasn’t interested in. He had argued, tried to convince, that he was not ready to get married. That shocked the entire family, close friends and relatives alike. They had stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown three more heads. That it was not him but the bad company he was being friends with. That he just didn’t know what was in best interests for him. After all, he was twenty-seven and still not married. What would society call him? Them? His great-grandmother had wailed, shortly followed by his grandmother, mother and paternal aunt. The whole sentimental outburst suffocated him so much that he had thrown his hands and screamed a forced “yes”.

That had been a mistake too, he realized as soon as he uttered that small, simple word. Not only was he now responsible for spoiling someone’s life, he was going to be the one to be blamed for evoking disrupts between two close families.

Yet, there was an unaware arrogance in his stance as he strode into one of the many bangle stores while the women in his family busied themselves to select a few dozens for the upcoming wedding of the youngest son. The white shirt fitted his torso in an immaculately handsome way, the broad, stiff shoulders and angular bronze plans were faintly hinted beneath. His stood tall at six feet two, his jawline clenched as he rolled at the meaningless confusion over a pair of bangles. The confidence streak radiated off his intellectual shrewdness ensured the desired effect on the women. It would have amused him if he was aware of the attention his presence demanded, but Arnav was far from caring about others. His eyes were set on the wedding, coming up with several of excuses and reasons as to why he was not the right one for the chosen bride.

It was with these thoughts that he dropped the bags at the foot of the uncomfortable wooden chair as he plopped rather tiredly, that his eyes greeted with a vision he couldn’t shook off his mind. There was the girl, not a day old than Eighteen, talking animatedly with another of her age while fingers tracing a set of bangles. Her eyes were innocent, instantly drawing him towards hers, her laughter a soothing melody he hadn’t known was possible and her childish beauty with delicate features. So he found himself staring at her, chuckling at her frown and her rather amusing confusion as she inspected two set of designs, weighing her options – one in forest green that reminded him of a spring evening, dancing along the slender frame of her creamy wrist – and the other in darkest of red he’d ever seen, a shade so akin to the rawness of early morning rays, his eyes darkened as he watched them dangling on her wrist, his lips curving up into a soft smile, heart picking up its erratic beats in sync with the soothing musical notes of her bangles. He sighed, straightening off the chair. He would get used to falling asleep and waking up to the chimes of her bangles.

“I can’t decide.” Her voice filtered through as he neared them. “Jiji, why aren’t you helping me?”

There was a slight scowl marring her brows and a disappointment in her voice. He chuckled. Oh, he could spend the rest of his life helping her decide, he mused, even if it meant spending half of it in the lanes of Chandni Chowk.

“That’s because, Khushi, you’ll not consider my opinion and end up picking the one you like the most.” The other pointed out with a teasing chuckle before moving to the other side of the counter.

Arnav smiled to himself as he slide along the way, standing beside her. “They’re beautiful.” He said with a soft smile, his eyes set on hers, watching her intently, taking in the sharp tilt of her head, the frown deepening for a second before relaxing, lips that were about to reply was now formed in a perfect O and eyes wide and round. The scowl was soon replaced by an unknown emotion that he knew was mirrored in his own.

He was not a man to let his imagination draw biased conclusions. He was practical, and had a rather sharp instincts when it comes to people he met. That or he was so fascinated by her that Arnav didn’t know why he said what he said in that next moment. But as years passed by, he realized that it was what he would come to believe at love at first sight. That day, however, all he knew was he wanted her to have everything she liked, that he would go to any lengths to ensure the smile on her face.

“I love both the sets, Khushi.”

__________

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December,2016

“As much I like to welcome you to the family as my son-in-law, I’m afraid I’d give in to the internal rage and leave you with a black eye and a bleeding nose if you don’t stop making out with my daughter right in front of hundreds to see.”

Arnav Singh Raizada warned as he walked towards the young couple, a glass of sparkling Vodka nursed in his hands, swirling the amber liquid while eyes fixed on the young man. Fighting off a rather amused grin as he watched his baby girl flushed at the off-handed comments, Arnav arched a brow at a sulking man. A soothing laughter echoed in his mind, halting his steps midway as it shook his frame with his own rumble of chuckle. His wife would have laughed at his futile attempts at being an intimidating father-in-law. And he knew, if there was anyone in the whole wide world that would consider him seriously, it would be the five-year kid that lived next door, except for the time when he was behind his Control Wheels. Shaking his head at the train of thoughts that lingered in his mind every second of every day since the moment he laid eyes on the woman he had ever loved, Arnav let out a relaxed sigh, his eyes taking in the sight of his baby girl and her to-be husband.

She wore a rose-pink silk Saree, the golden work on the pallu illuminating the almond hazel eyes with streaks of golden green, matched with a silver full sleeve blouse. Arnav remembered the day they shopped for hours and zeroed in on this particular saree – his baby girl and he – to surprise his wife on their fifteenth anniversary. She had been surprised to find it neatly wrapped on the bed just before midnight. She had instantly fallen in love with the saree. A smile chirped as Arnav sipped his drink – that was his Khushi, always smiling and falling in love with everything she laid eyes on. His eyes studied his daughter – the younger version of his wife – the red and green bangles adorned her wrists. His eyes narrowed, frown deepening at the sight. Weren’t glass bangles supposed to crack over time? He wasn’t sure. But he realized, a low chuckle rumbling his frame, his Khushi and her thrive for immaculate perfection, would have taken necessary precautions to safeguard the set of bangles that brought them together.

Beside her, with his arm snaked around her waist, stood the man in all his glory. When Arnav met Samuel almost a decade ago as one of the team that he was supposed to train that year, he had instantly liked the young man. He was determined, hard working with single minded focus, and was not comfortable in taking orders. In him, Arnav saw his younger form. He had known then that Samuel Gill would, in no time, prove his worth and be the Caption. They had spent most of their leisure time together –talking about aircrafts at times and simply enjoying companiable silence at others.

The moment when he watched their rather heated argument on their first meet, Arnav was convinced that Anahita and Samuel would end up with each other. His experienced eyes recognized the instant attraction they felt for each other but were too stubborn to accept it. So he had made sure they cross their paths, though there was little effort from his side. Samuel did the most of it, anyways; he had laughed when the man balled up and approached his daughter, frequenting his visits more often and few minutes that stretched to hours. He had excused himself, their scheduled meeting “accidentally” slipping his mind, all the while counting days, enjoying the romance blooming in his own garden.

Anahita slide off from his arms, smiling at Arnav as her arms encircled his, head tilted, eyes looking at him with childish excitement. And he knew, just like all these years, she wanted to hear his story. Once again.

“One last time,” Anahita asked, her voice thrilled as she pouted, “today more than ever.”

And as Arnav closed his eyes, he felt it, the cold breeze caressing his free hand, waves crashing at his feet, drowning him in the memories of his Khushi.

__________

Lakshmi Nagar

Delhi

India

July,1986

He had stormed off, third time in a week followed by that short trip to Chandni Chowk. He was not being rational, he knew it. And the fact only intensified his confusion. The image of almond hazel flashed in his mind ever since and all he had dreamt was waking up to the chimes of her bangles. He had tried to talk to his father, let the man know that he could not marry the bride of his choice when Arnav himself felt drawn to the stranger he had all but spent two minutes in a bustling store. It would have been just that, he thought with a deep scowl, suppressing back the colorful profanities at the helplessness, had she picked one and walk past him with her sister. But no, the girl had to go ahead and purchase both the sets, and turn around to look at him with a shy smile as they turned the corner. That was all it took for him to make up his mind. He would be damned if he married anyone else but her.

Arnav felt restless seeping as he walked aimlessly. He had never thought about falling in love or spending the rest of his life with a girl. He needed to leave, to go back and join the crew. He would only be able to gather his ragged emotions once he was tugged behind his haven. Flying had been his passion ever since he was a kid. That was the problem. He had been steadily on the ground for over a week now, and that was unsettling him. What other reasons could justify his uncontrollable attraction he felt for a stranger? And the dreams…? Those toe curling, breath taking, insanely satisfying, passionate love making….

He shook his head. No, he wouldn’t go there! He was not some hormonal teenager for crying out loud. He closed his eyes in frustration. So what she was pretty? Gorgeous, even? It was not like she was the only beautiful woman. Yet, those eyes as they stared into his… that smile as if… as if she felt that electrifying spark… yes, that was it. She felt it too. But what now? He looked around, his muddled mind trying to gather his surroundings. How could he find her in the good old city? There had to be a way, his thoughts were a desperate plea as he looked up above the clear sky. There had to be something, anything, that could help him meet her.

One thing Arnav always believed in was to give his best. And so, he would search for her. No matter how long it would take for him to reach her, he would. He was, after all, a man with determined focus. With a smile, he turned around, each step seeping his confidence as he strode along the way, slowing near the temple. A quick prayer and he would be on his way back home.

And, as though luck bestowed its choicest blessings on him, he saw her, standing at the top step on the flight of stairs. Eyes closed, her puja plate raised to match her eye level, and hair braided loosely over her shoulder – there she was, Khushi, the early evening’s rays aglow from her behind. Was it coincidence? Arnav thought while blinking. Or was it fate? Any other time, he would have scowled at the mere word. Not today. His smile bemused as he walked towards her, each step slow, calculative and deliberate. His smile widening as he watched, smirking, satisfied, at the slightest widening of her eyes and faint hint of rose tinge on her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, her lips trembling, teeth nibbling her lower lip, rooted on her ground. Waiting.

“We met again.” Arnav pointed out, laughing silently at her flushed face. Ah, he would get so damn used to her sight, he concluded as soft breeze engulfed them in its cocoon. Her nod was all he needed to breathe in relief. “I can’t risk not knowing where you live.” He said, his voice low and soft, a soothing whisper to their restless souls.

Khushi didn’t look up at him, neither did she reply. She walked, instead, past him. And he followed. No words spoken, no feelings admitted and no promises made. He had said it all, in the silence as they walked, her five steps ahead of him, and she heard it. Several minutes later, she paused for a brief moment, still not looking at him. He stood there, waiting, watching, while with a swift nod, Khushi crossed the narrowed pathway and disappeared into the house. He would come back; he nodded when she re-appeared at her window. And he would take her home with him.

__________

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December,2016

“That was the beginning of a beautiful journey, one that filled with love, mutual adoration and individual identity.” Arnav smiled down at his daughter. A carefree laugh reverberated his frame as he looked around, nodding in acknowledgement at his friends at a distance. It still amazed him, caught his breath, as he reminisced those days and his own foolishness. But he never cared about the names he rightfully earned thereafter. His family had called him selfish man who wouldn’t stop his madness and hell bent on ruining their reputation. They had threatened to disown him. He chuckled then, shaking his head. Oh yeah, he thought yet again just as he saw an elder man walk in, along with his family – his father.

An unknown sigh of relief washed over as Arnav watched his father taking in the grand celebration of his only daughter. His eyes were twinkling at the family with pride, a brow arched sardonically. Look, he would have said if he were three decades younger, how he not only had a happy ending to his love story, but also earned his name in their society. He was no more a young, impulsive son without an ounce of respect towards his elders. He was now a well renowned pilot, a successful man and a loving father who had everything to make sure his daughter lived in the lap of luxury.

“And?”

Samuel propped, bringing Arnav out of his reverie. He smiled at the young couple, his hand taking in his baby girl’s in a gentle squeeze. “Your Dadaji is here.” He informed and watched her dashing towards the family, greeting them with a broad smile.

“You’re still not in good terms with them, are you, ol’ man?” Samuel asked a moment later, forcing Arnav to shift his gaze from his daughter to his son-in-law.

“I’m not a saint, Sammy. All I can remember is their insults when I took Khushi home.” His voice shivered, the sudden urge to slam his fist into a wall itching as he struggled with his internal rage. Khushi had forgiven them the second those words tumbled out of their families. She had no bone in her to hold grudge against anyone. “She loved them for the both of us, and I hated them just the same.”

He could see Samuel’s eyes fixed on him. There were many things the younger man didn’t know about the intimate details of his love life. Though Arnav doubt Anahita to not share his story, they had never had a one-on-one conversation. And now, as they turned their gazes to the one woman they both loved unconditionally, he knew it was the time to share his life’s most intimate details with the man in his daughter’s life.

“She was from typical conservative Bihari family. A family with blind faith in old traditions and inequality between genders is what sets the society in its rightful way of living.” Arnav stated plainly, the silver in his tone a mocking at such blindly followed custom. “In the two months that followed our second meeting, she had been anything but that. She was a free spirit with a desire to travel the world, craved for freedom. She promised that she would wait, that the wedding had to take place with the families’ consent and that it would either be me or none but eloping was out of question.”

“But you did…” his voice broke off just as Anahita reached them, her hand tugging itself in her fiancé’s waiting hand.

“This,” her chirpy voice filled the warm air, “is the one, Dadaji. Samuel Gill.” She then looked straight at him, her eyes twinkling as brightly as ever, “and Sammy, meet my Dadaji, Aakash Tauji, Tai, their children…”

Samuel shook each of their hands with a polite smile, all the while aware of the stiffness in his ol’ man. He titled to look at him, just as Arnav’s fingers caressed the silver band on his left ring finger.

__________

Indira Gandhi International Airport

Delhi

India

November,1986

“Are you okay, Raizada?”

He considered it for a second as they cleared the cockpit after landing the flight, checking it for any loose ends. Was he okay? He had been asking the same over and over again for the past three weeks – Twenty-one damned days that he was away from home, away from her. He didn’t want to go on this trip. For some unknown reason, he had been restless when the Captain informed them about their schedules being filled for the next few weeks. Quire unease settled down as he closed his eyes in those few stolen moments, with her. She had brushed it off with a smile, encouraged him to not give up on his dreams and duties. Three weeks of void weighed down on his shoulders, slumping his frame further down as they stepped out of the cockpit and made their way towards the vehicle that would take them to the terminal.

No, a small voice replied at the back of his head. He was not ok, and would never be if he were to survive another week of emptiness. He needed to see her, talk to her and be with her. The last one month had been stressful with arguments and fights turning into a dirty mess. He had successfully convinced the bride’s father about his inability to make his daughter happy, and then approached his own father about his love for Khushi. The elder man had allowed Arnav to talk for five minutes before stomping off the room. Things at her house were no different. They made it clear that they’d never allow their daughter marry off a Rajasthani nomad.

Now, as he walked into the waiting longue, he was convinced that something was off. He needed to see her, and he needed to see her now. He couldn’t take it anymore. In a swift motion, he blocked the Captain’s way as words rushed out. “I’m not okay, Capt. Jha. I need to go, see my…”

“Raizada,” Captain Shyam Jha cut him off with a knowing smile, tilting his head at something behind him. “I guess that is the one that made you desperate these past weeks, right.”

Arnav stared at the man, unsure of how to respond. But before he could comprehend a coherent response, his torso acted on its own, turning around and his eyes falling on the petite form running towards him, the flash of red and gold weaving in air as bangles chimed around them. He stood there, rooted to the ground, hands shot up and wrapped around the fragile girl as she threw herself on him. Whispers of broken words rushed out against his ear as Arnav buried his head in the crook of her neck, easing her pain with closed eyes.

“I tried to…” Khushi stuttered with uncontrollable sobs, “I tried not to… to run away… but I couldn’t… mar..ry…”

“Shh,” he held her teary face in between his palms, fingers stroking her cheeks, “you’re here now, Khushi. You’re with me…”

She then looked at him, a small, shaky laugh erupted from her throat as she asked, her voice rasped in a soft whisper, “Marry me?”

__________

Salt Rim Private Beach Villa

Alibag, Maharashtra

India

December,2016

“We, Samuel James Gill and Anahita Arnav Raizada, in love, respect and loyalty, take each other, to be our wedded partner, to share the love that never wavers, and do our utmost best to understand, support and encourage one other in every aspect of life, to lead a better life, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, in joys and in sorrows. As we stand before our families, we promise to love one other, then, now and forever, with strength so powerful that nothing, not even death, can separate us.”

__________

Foolish pride and restless heart

A/N: Part 2 of “Best Friends Forever”

__________

You walk into the room and I

I, I-I, I, I, I-I, I

I wanna tell ya, tell ya, but I just can’t speak

This shouldn’t be so difficult

Why-y, why-why-why-why-why-why

Tell me why I see you and I just can’t breath

You’re like a bullet, girl, to my heart,

You’re like a very far shooting star,

The very thing that I need,

Look at how you get to me

I can never be myself,

How can I when I’m stuck in hell?

Stutterin’, stutterin’, stuttereh-ing

Don’t leave,

I know I effed it up

That’s my luck

That’s just my luh uh uck

Here I go, here I go and do it again

~~ The Friday Night Boys ~~

Amongst many assets Arnav possess, painting is by far his favorite. When his father had taken him to a carnival at the age of five, the display of oil paintings by local artists mesmerized him. And in the name of goodness heaven – one of the many concepts that bore arguments and disagreements with his mother, with him being a firm non-believer, something that passed down by his father – his long, lean fingers were delicately blessed. The strokes, the play of colors came naturally to him. If he was not as talented in the art, he might have had a nervous breakdown. By the virtue, it is in his bloodline, that they thrive for perfection – another thing that he was thankful for, though he would never admit it to his father. That would have been disastrous, if at all Arnav wasn’t, what you call, an artist. While his peers spend their leisure time playing, picnicking, or whatever they were interested in, he would lock himself in the library of his Dadaji’s ancestral house and fill an empty canvas with abstract forms. Why only abstract? His sister had asked when they were young. Arnav had looked at her, longer than usual, brows frowned in confusion. That was another thing he found himself pondering about. But for some reasons unknown to him, he never was inspired by people. To his defense, he was surrounded by chauvinistic patriarchies, and melodramatic women. His clan though ensured he had his best behavior on, failed to have a fine grip on his musings. The fact that most of his schooling was done in military grounds – as like his elders as per Raizada clan tradition – did help him to avoid unwelcomed requests from his family and peers alike to paint them.

That was until two years ago, when Avinash Raizada decided to have his son back home, thus breaking an age-old tradition no one before him ever dared to. If Arnav was overwhelmed, consumed by happiness, to finally have an opportunity to experience life as it ought to be – what with new found freedom to do whatever he wanted to without minding breaking any rules, not that he was a follower of rules – it soon evaporated as soon as he stepped in and met with enthralling pair of eyes as he waited to collect his schedule. A casual look, a brief moment and a skip in his heart beat later, Arnav found his inspiration to paint something other than abstracts.

There was an earnest yearning in the solemn almond pair, its hazel green strikingly magnificent with golden streaks and amber liquids – its serene beauty reminding him of a warm spring evening. Often framed by thin black rimmed reading glasses, her eyes were what held his attention that fateful first sight. The two years that followed, Arnav had mused over a certain hazel beauty, watching her from distance, letting everyone in Rainbow High know that the beautiful, hot-headed, kind-soul and happy cheerleader was his. That anyone who might want to get her attention was a waste of their breath and that he was the only one she was interested in. He had made sure of that. His days were filled with soccer practice whilst his eyes never veering away from her. And his nights… they were reserved for his paintings – tens of them portraying her emotions. Every single emotion she had ever felt. And if anyone asked him to pick one, it would be her yearning for him.

Arnav sighed audibly as he tossed his mobile beside him, ignoring a low yelp of cry that escaped from his sister when it hit her elbow. Clenching his jaw, he shut his eyes as he tried to maintain his composure. It had been in her eyes as Khushi stared into space. It had been in her voice when she wished him to approach her. When he had heard that rumor about NK, a guy he always hated, wanting to ask her out, something snapped in him. Not that he was jealous or insecure about the guy having a chance. But because he knew, he lacked the courage that came as naturally to NK to ask the girl he liked out. And in the flick of moment, Arnav had realized. He had realized that he might not be ignorant to his clan’s negative traits as he liked to think. He was, just like his Dadaji, a chauvinistic pig-headed son of a chauvinist. He had been, after all, waiting, wanting for her to initiate what they were sure of having if ever they decided to give themselves a chance by keeping aside their stubbornness and egoistic asses. Now, when he finally gathered the guts to call her, she had to dodge his calls!

“You alright there, buddy?”

Arnav looked at the man behind the wheels from back seat, identical pair of chocolate browns gazing at each other through rearview mirror. He nodded, glancing at his mother, who was comfortably seated in the passenger seat while tuning for radio channel of her interest, and at his sister beside him, playing flappy bird on her gadget. “Yeah, Dad.” He finally said, avoiding looking at the elder man’s intense gaze on him. He knew it was going to be a very long night. If the girl he was interested in, the girl who wrapped him around her little finger, was not going to give in even after he took the initiative and called, just like she demanded, then there was this family dinner where he had to be all uptight and greet everyone alike with a polite smile. Not that he blamed Khushi for not responding to his call. After all, hadn’t he spent two awfully slow and frustrating years to ask her out? But now, as he gazed the passing vehicles, all he could think of was the warmth of her arms around him.

He had tried to tone down the voices that erupted in his father’s silver grey SUV – from his mother’s “of course, he has been sulking all evening” and his sister’s “his girlfriend might have finally ditched him” to his father’s comforting “girls don’t ditch a Raizada, it’s always the other way round”. Would Khushi be this crazy too? He had often mused over while painting her mischievous eyes. Or, would Khushi find this madness unbearable? Again, he was somehow convinced; she would bring much more madness to his small clan of four. Avinash would have someone who shares his interest in literature, Maya would spend most of her time with Khushi shopping and Anjali… he tilted his head to look at his little sister. Anjali would finally have a sister she longed for. And he… he would have his best friend, his lover, by his side.

What if, the sudden thought succumbed its way – too easily might he add, as he jolted up in his seat, startling Anjali in the process – Khushi decided to give up of him? On them? Will she readily let NK sweep her off her feet? Will she ever get over him? Can anyone love Khushi more than him? Arnav shook his head, his fist banging the side of the door, the loud clash startling his family. He hadn’t noticed the wariness in his mother’s and sister’s eyes or the knowing grin that spread across his father’s face. He hadn’t noticed the SUV skidding to a halt. All he was aware of was the frightening thought of Khushi leaving him. And he would be damned if that was the case. So, he had looked up at his father, urgent requests in order only to be interrupted by his father at the very second.

“Go, get her, Arnav, before it’s too late.” Avinash grinned with a wink and added softly, “you’re an idiot, you know that?”

That was all it took for him to jump out of the vehicle, with his sister’s parting words that sounded like “you better hurry and get me my sister, you son of our grandfather!” On his way as he ran towards the Gupta’s residence, a classic white washed two storied building, Arnav tripped over his feet. His eyes were set on his girl, mind ceased to exist while heart led the way…

__________

Best Friends Forever

A/N: Welcome back 🙂

This is a pleasant surprise, I’ve not thought about re-opening this blog to public or post my old OS but as I was going through all my works (both completed, incomplete and a bunch of ideas waiting to take a shape and form), I’ve decided to go through the ones that are, for the lack of better word, in a good shape, writing wise. And post it here in the blog for those who are interested.

Do share your thoughts.

__________

You can count on me like one, two, three

I’ll be there

And I know when I need it, I can count on you life four, three, two

And you’ll be there

‘Cause that’s what friends are supposed to do, oh, yeah

We’ll find out what we’re made of

When we are called to help our friends in need

You’ll always have my shoulder when you cry

I’ll never let go, never say goodbye

~~ Count on me by Bruno Mars ~~

The door burst open, the force slamming it against the wall, its creaking noise effectively cutting off the soft rhythm that filled the otherwise silent room. His fingers hovered over the strings of his guitar, his bare feet sinking into the woolen carpet that his mother insisted on as he leaned against the parapet wall in his balcony, his back pressed against the hard surface. The late spring’s evening breeze playing with his front locks, its lazy caressing soothing his stressful day while he looked up at the welcomed intervention. Though, the intervention would be everything he wanted to avoid for the evening, didn’t help as his steel gray eyes found her hazel greens as soon as he looked up.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her usually musical voice rasped as she strode towards him, standing in front of him with her hands resting on her hips that were so characteristically her, the tell-tale signs of her anger and annoyance clearly evident on her face. Her brows narrowed, forehead frowned, jaw clinched and shoulders taut in futile attempts of suppressed rage.

He shook his head, his fingers tugging at the string, its vibration as calm and soothing as the composition he had just played. “Playing.” He pointed out with a smirk, anticipating the turbulence that he associated with her ever since they were five.

The memory was still as fresh as the day it had happened. His mother had dragged him to one of her kitty parties, claiming that she needed to introduce her prince of a son to her friends. He had rolled his eyes then, his father had chuckled as he narrated his childhood stories years later, and stomped his feet off with one condition. He would come if they would buy him Monster Trucks Custom Shop and Lego City set. Or so he was told, anyways. There, he sat at a corner, minding his own business when she came into his life like an unexpected tornado over the calm ocean. Quite literally. She had pushed his legs and jumped onto the chair to his left. Her two pony tails bobbling as she unzipped her pink Barbie bag and started emptying it, throwing half of the stuffed toys with big eyes and artificial blush on his lap.

“What are these?” He hissed half irritated and half curious as he watched her, though he never understood girls his age and their obsession on stuffed toys and Barbie dolls.

“Lalaloopsy,” she informed with a chuckle, “will you help me destroy at least half of these? I’ll share my chocolate with you.” She had pleaded. “These are my awfully mean cousin’s. I don’t like her.”

That day, they had spent the better part drawing unimpressive sketches on all of the Lalaloopsies. By the end of their mothers’ party, he had promised her that he would meet later the next day to scheme against her mean cousin.

Now, thirteen years later, they were as inseparable as ever. They were best friends, go-to person, partners in crime and one’s own greatest rival.

“Don’t act smart, Jha!”

Shyam Jha rolled his eyes, finally tugging the guitar in its case and turned his attention to his weird, heavenly beautiful and certified lunatic of a best friend. Her eyes flashed in annoyance, strands of hair that found its permanent escape from her pony falling all over her face that his peers find attractive. “What did I do now?” He asked with forced calmness. Whatever he did, however he did to protect her from unwanted attention from his peers and school mates, both their seniors and juniors included, she never failed to find faults in him. So much for being a responsible friend…

“Did you or did you not corner NK after school?” She demanded, the menace in her voice would send chills down anyone’s spine.

Shyam hissed under his breath, a string of profanities he’d never want to utter in decent company threatening to find its escape. Not that her presence unsettled him. No, with her, he could just be him but even he didn’t want her to pick more of the cusses than she already had. And god forbid, if their mothers had to know the source of her knowledge, he’d be shipped off to remote islands!

“Did you or did you not?” Her voice almost inaudible as she hissed again, arresting his eyes as she held her murderous glare on him.

“Err… may be?” He replied but shook his head almost immediately. “The guy’s trying to make a move on you, Khushi! You! And no one’s ever dared to do that. They knew the consequences.”

Khushi slumped her shoulders, her hands falling off her hips, to her sides as she balled her fists, forcing herself to take deep breaths, she composed, willing some of her anger ebb before looking at him. “You know NK can never gather his balls and ask me out, Shyam. Even if he does, what’s the big deal?”

Shyam did not think it would be a big deal. He knew for a certain it was a big deal. After all, it was Khushi Gupta they were talking about. Everything about her was a notch higher than his normal radar. And he wouldn’t allow anyone, absolutely anyone, even come within five-meter radius near her. Well, except for the one guy who, Shyam was convinced after months of observation, was worthy of being with her – the guy who held his friend’s interest ever since he had transferred to their school two years ago.

“Besides, he’s a nice guy.” Khushi continued, now taking a seat beside him, stretching her legs and scooping his arm in hers. “I like him.”

“Puh…lease!” Shyam sniggered. “The whole school knows there’s just one guy you like, Khush. Besides, I saw Arnav Raizada having a serious catching up with NK just before I reached the guy.” He informed with a sly smirk.

“Damn no!” Khushi shrieked, her face now contorted in embarrassment. “What the hell is wrong with you both?” She demanded, turning to face him. Her eyes were now positively ablaze, reminding him of a tidal wave caught in whirlpool of uncontrollable waves. “NK is a good friend. He’s not going to ask me out. It’s just a stupid rumor that I’m sure Sheetal ignited just to piss him off. And NK is an easy target. He didn’t even know NK and still never liked him!”

Shyam couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you sure, darling?” He asked, his eyes glowing in curiosity. “Because, I kinda ran into your guy earlier this noon while he was eavesdropping while you were talking to one of your friends.” He grinned mischievously. “And I did catch bits and pieces. I quote,” he cleared his throat dramatically and air quoted, “if he’s not gonna man up and ask me out by the end of the day, I’m so gonna say yes to NK.”

“You didn’t!” Khushi screamed, the revelation ten folds intense than when she had heard about the little verbal fight in boy’s locker room that involved Shyam and NK. “He did not!” She hissed; her head buried in her hands as she shut her eyes. “Please tell me he did not eavesdrop…”

Shyam suppressed his laughter, enjoying his friend’s obvious discomfort. It was a rare sight one would witness Khushi all embarrassed and he would be damned if he missed any such opportunities. “I’m sure he’s gonna call, though.” He said positively. “The guy’s on a mission now, Khush. I wonder why he didn’t ever talk to you, despite making it clear for the entire world to see that he’s head over heels for you.”

Her eyes lowered as her lips curved into a sly smile. “We’re too stubborn to make the first move.” She confessed, her voice barely a whisper, just as her mobile buzzed, the caller ID teasing as his picture popped up. With tousled hair, wet and dripping, droplets trailing off his face, eyes that resembled molten lava over chocolate mousse cake and smile that radiated and contagious, it was taken after his first soccer’s match.

Arnav

Khushi threw a quick glance at her friend, a soft rose tinge adoring her cheeks as she whispered a meaningless excuse and ran off the room, with mobile pressed to her heart.

Shyam watched her retreating form and shook his head with an amused smile. He had been doubtful all these years but now, he was sure about it. His lunatic best friend found her perfect match.

__________

Lovers

What is life, if not a paint

Of memories, bleak and bittersweet

Splashed across the canvas of our soul

A childhood blooms like daisies and lilies

Lies within dreams, weaved by two halves of a whole

Separated with a promise to meet

Once again in thousand lifetimes

A pull so strong that binds them together

By a whisper of their ancient hearts

Yet the distance lingers in their pursuit

To re-discover the contours of their bodies

Little did they know the power of their love

Of the memories under silver moon

Awaiting for their reunion in every lifetime

__________

© Raspberry and Lilacs, February, 2017.

The content in this blog is intellectual property of the Author.

No part of it, part or whole, shall be copied/reproduced/transmitted to any other sites/blogs/forums without prior notice/written permission from Author .

Whispers

It started as any other normal day. I woke up to a glowing sun, the thick fabrics of my old, worn-out bedroom at my native residence notwithstanding the morning’s harsh rays. I took in the surroundings, a crowded, chaotic environment that greeted me with its usual craziness a wedding residence guaranteed. Oh, it is normal, I say. To find my cousins by my side, their never ending teasing as they pulled the blanket off me, forcing me to step out of my comfortable queen sized bed that I shared with two of my sisters. Being eldest, I got to cut some slack and order them around in folding my quilt and arranging the bed. And I do it quite often, displaying my right as the eldest of the lot, and the lazy bones that I’m made of. Of course, it is a normal day where I tend to whine and pout, pampered and childish.

So it wasn’t surprising that I find a glass of carrot juice waiting for me at the breakfast table. “No Idli-Sambar without it,” my paternal aunt said with finality – a daily rendezvous that led to a silly, harmless fight. I shouted, insisted that I don’t need it just because I don’t like carrot – a well known fact but never considered. Then came one of my brothers – my big, bad wolf of a brother who, in his usual funkiness, always a step forward to irritate me just for the sake of irritating. “Come on, you can drink it.” He said, laughing at my plight while I struggled to decide the better way to deal with it. Ah, a normally normal day!

Yet, beneath the surface of this normalcy, there’s a strange unease that settled within.

It seemed to be forced, this normalcy. I saw my mother smiling at me. I saw my family sitting together after a really long time, catching up with each other while the younger generation gathered around my about-to-be-wed cousin, extracting details of his fiancée. I was a part of it, involved actively in teasing, offering my best wishes. But it doesn’t seem normal as I smile at him. It doesn’t seem normal at all as I struggled to keep up a happy face.

I smiled. Of course I did throughout the day.

I talked. I ran around with errands. I drove. I normally prefer not to drive but did nevertheless. That was the start of the series of my actions contradicting my normalcy. And I drove for an hour and a half, for about hundred and three kilometers, at a speed of hundred. My normal speed ranged from sixty to eighty and I never, ever drove my car along National Highway. People, who knew me, understood this. I felt my sister’s penetrating gaze but I ignored her and the rest of the world as my mind drowned with nothing but one single thought, despite me indulging myself in conversations, being a part of everything that’s happening around me yet, distinctly aware of the happenings.

Why, the question lingered on for longer than comfortable, demanding for a reasonable response, we people often avoid things which are to be done? Things that we like to do but are unable to until we realize one fine day that we could no more do things once we let the chance slip off our fingers like sand, only to realize we have been trying to hold on to our sanity like gripping a fistful of water once it’s slipped.

Hope, funny thing it is. It sets us free with no consideration about future. It unclips the wings of freedom and we’re surrounded with many, much important things that are to be done in life. We’re on a constant run, in pursuit of success – a good percentage that makes the family proud, a good career opportunity that promises to have a six-digit salary per month, and a good fortune to spend and pamper ourselves but not trying to find that one thing that really matters.

Why do we take others for granted? Why do we often push away the words that displays our affection? Was it because speaking one’s emotions out loud is a sign of weakness? Was it because we would ultimately tagged as sentimentalist? Or was it because it leaves us vulnerable?

People are our companions in this journey of life. We meet them, a lot of them. Each one different from other; the degree of our affection varies and so is our importance in their lives. Some we laugh with and some we cry for. It is not necessarily the same person that we end up laughing and crying with. Unfortunately, it is the bitter truth. People are with you while you’re fun hanging out with but turn around and walk out when you’re in need of them.

It was in that moment of confusing thoughts that I failed to notice the signal at a crossing and almost hit the Volvo bus in the front, just when I realized yet another bitter truth of life.

Relationships, in all its glory, are a bittersweet symphony.

We never know whom we end up with. People we come across, comes with a tag and for a reason. And with a limited duration and an expiry date. We might not like some of them but fall in love with some beyond description and comprehension. The chances are thin, that we have all our loved ones with us in this materialistic world.

They are, in a world beyond this practicality, in a world where their presence is constantly known. They are with us in memories. They are with us in our success and failure. They can be heard – in compliments when we turn our lives better and in disappointment when we waste ourselves over some notion of not able to see, hear and touch them.

“A relationship is a soft spring breeze.” One such loved person once whispered in the late hours of night as we stared at stars. “You might not necessarily touch them but their love can be felt. Always.”

1,000 days. I’d known him for 1,000 days. He had been everything – a mentor, a fatherly figure and a friend. He encouraged me to aim high. He showed me the path of real world. He stood behind me while I struggled moving forward. 1,000 ordinary days with ups and downs.

One day, the only hope that helped me move forward while I struggled to find a place to fit into this world, I’ll go back to show just how much his encouraging words and our late night meetings contributed in shaping me for what I am today. One day, is all I thought as I tried to live my life, accepting fate’s twists and coping up with loss of loved ones.

One day – it now turned to be nothing but an impossible task, a dream I can never fathom anymore.

One text message. Two words. My life of normalcy is no more in sight.

As I drove along, acutely aware of my cousins’ laughter, my side of window rolled down to let the gush of air in to sweep my hair and sadness, I felt it, a sense of longing as I saw the first star in the evening twinkling down.

“Come on,” it whispered.

“Move on,” his voice echoed from the memories.

“Move on.”

__________

© Raspberry and Lilacs, March, 2016.

The content in this blog is intellectual property of the Author.

No part of it, part or whole, shall be copied/reproduced/transmitted to any other sites/blogs/forums without prior notice/written permission from Author .

Stillness

A fleeting hope

A suspended dream

And a world of imagination

Where we embark on the journey

You and I

Together, forever

To love and be loved

To help and be helped

To support and be supported

To respect and be respected

To understand and be understood

Someday, I tell myself, as I now walk alone, leaned onto that fleeting hope, cling onto that dream, and move forward towards that world of imagination with faith, I’ll be able to reach its universe, an Utopia beyond its reach.

For what life is, if not for such fantasies?

You come across, on this journey, with people not met before but known somehow. You see through them, a part of you that you know not. For they show you a glimpse of what you had been and could have been.

Some share your interests. Some share your opinions. Some you become friends with over a period of time. Some you like and some you can’t get along with.

But what remains constant, connecting these people over a tiny dot, is a page written with memories stored and lessons taught. Neither his accent nor his color matters, but the valuable word or two that he uttered, a careless whisper, capable of provoking darkest thoughts and deepest desires, altering the course of life.

An encouraging family, protective siblings and a supportive group of friends – life you once know and wished for, will no longer remain same. They are never enough. A path only known to heart and soul is on its own pursuit – a path less travelled in waking hours, shone under the stars, for one person that fills the void you haven’t realized have been carrying on throughout.

Nothing seems right. The perfect picture you envisioned, is all but missing a single stroke, and a stroke is all it takes to make it imperfect. Incomplete.

And then, your path collides with his.

A stranger, unknown to the mind

A friend, always known to the heart

When least expected, and not looking for

While waiting beneath a tree in your rusty high school uniform

Or in the middle of a meeting in your tailored formal suit

A moment of collision, a smile and a glance is all it needs to recognize an old friend.

An invisible pull that binds you, an attraction and an instant longing beyond your rationality tugs you forward.

And you feel it, years falling apart and distance ceased to exist, pieces of puzzles settling down and there it is, the picture you wished and deserved.

You long to know him, to be with him and to be able to understand his unspoken words.

You care, sometimes way too much, as you stare into the pools of his eyes, and into his soul.

You leave no opportunity unturned to show just how much this stranger meant to you, every minute of every day, in every way possible.

Always by his side, to hear him out, to embrace his happiness and to sooth his pain

Yet you know not what he is to you, or you, to him

As you fell briskly into intimacy, into a world of that imagination

Finally smiling at Utopia

With a fleeting hope dancing its way

And the suspended dream materializes with a promise of friendship

Forever and ever

__________

© Raspberry and Lilacs, March, 2016.

The content in this blog is intellectual property of the Author.

No part of it, part or whole, shall be copied/reproduced/transmitted to any other sites/blogs/forums without prior notice/written permission from Author .

An Open Letter

There had been a day when I needed you.

It was a long, long ago. From another lifetime where things were simpler, people were supportive and emotions were not twisted.

When heart won over mind, with no logics or thoughts

When instincts were followed blindly

When adoration was admired

 

You walk past me, engrossed with that group of friends I was not a part of

In the corridors, in between classes

But you see me through an invisible brick wall

Without an idea of the skip in my beat

 

You were there, ready to lend a helping hand

When I was hurt, when I was lost

I knew not

That a mere word with a smile

Can set me free from those shackles

 

I needed you then, my guardian angel

For you were always there, at a distance but still

I need you now

For I’m lost, once again, in the pool of emotions

 __________

 

© Raspberry and Lilacs, February, 2016.

The content in this blog is intellectual property of the Author.

No part of it, part or whole, shall be copied/reproduced/transmitted to any other sites/blogs/forums without prior notice/written permission from Author .

It All Started With

She scoffed at the group of boys as they blocked her way with howl of laughter, her own group of two standing beside her.

They shouldn’t have come here, sneaking around. They’re going to be late. They’re going to be punished for strolling around canteen grounds instead of being in their classroom, indulging in study sessions for their impending exams.

Indulge in library, her Math teacher had said so earlier that day.

She scoffed some more, at the very idea of spending yet another spring evening studying while she can list out handful things she’d rather do.

Like, for an instance, listening to the bird’s song while munching a melted Cadbury, which is why she is waiting behind, craning her head, the curls of her raven hair straying with the breeze.

She did not like this.

Only if she could gather her wits and smash that laugh off their faces, she thought vigorously as she glanced at a wall clock. How long will they have to wait for three bars?

“Cadbury has to wait now.” She said looking at her friends, frowning as she turned around.

And then she heard it.

A voice, rich in its timber, rough at its edge, so low and deep, that she had been hearing for years now, but never addressed to her. Or, for her.

“Let her… she’s running late.”

She swirled around, eyes twinkling as they found his, a small, hesitant smile greeting him, barely noticing anything else as she walked in.

With her smile refusing to dim, she quickly gathered three bars of Cadbury, her feet dragging along hurriedly as the comments of the boys, collective voices addressing him something along the lines of themselves getting late, registered her still mind.

And despite her better judgment, she turned around just as she reached the doors. For what, she has no clue. But she is taken aback for he stood right in front of her, smirk in its place as he leaned in, the edges of the wrapper grazing against the insides of her palm while a bar is snatched from her grip.

“Study hard.”

He advised with mocking seriousness, his cocoa dark eyes glittering under the pale amber light in the barely lit canteen.

She stared for a second, too shocked to response as she glared at her bar in his hands, only to stutter and turn around, leaving the canteen, and him, behind.

 

__________

© Raspberry and Lilacs, February, 2016.

The content in this blog is intellectual property of the Author.

No part of it, part or whole, shall be copied/reproduced/transmitted to any other sites/blogs/forums without prior notice/written permission from Author .