Tanhaiyan | neirohi

29. rangeen

She sat in the car, brushing off the tears with her fingertips. On his arrival, she looked away, blinking back the wetness which kept appearing. He sighed, enveloping her into a hug. Rubbing up and down her arm, and staying like that for a while.

Her son's desperate wish to take him along with them was not unheard by the two of them. The innocence and longing mingled with a tinge of hope in his hazel eyes broke her.

It broke her heart.

Two years ago came back crashing on her, the word Ma. It meant so much, took so little. She had apologized to Akshara long back and being the kind-hearted girl she was, she had instantly forgiven her. Never meant that things were the same after that. Not with Parth, not with her devar, not with Manjari Ma as well.

"Shefali," he sighed, brushing her knuckles. Hand in his, she prepared herself for the worst. It was near, she had a gut feeling.

"Can we give us a chance?"

Her neck snapped at that, looking at him through her blurred eyes. Hope was not something she wanted, only for it to be broken again. Yet this man in front of her, was exactly doing what she was afraid of. Call it domino effect cause that could be the only reason why she felt herself feel a tinge of it as well. Hope.

"I... I think we should go for marriage counseling, Shef."

She nodded wordlessly, watching him smile at her. Been so many years since she saw that. So many. And that's how New Year's sunny afternoon was spent. Sitting peacefully, drawing out their own little happy family. With them and their munchkin, giggling all the way.

°

He strolled around the garden. Felt like stepping out after a long time. Aashiyana society did have a well-maintained lawn. Parth would've loved it here. Seven months in the city and he did understood how difficult it was to remain in touch. Or at least, he got a reality check when he talked to his brother last evening.

Abhimanyu's shock, happiness and disappointment in knowing that his brother finally was building his own life. He was very happy, don't get him wrong. Just a tad bit disappointed that the news was kept away from him for so long. They were not this distant.

They were never this distant.

Even after their marriages, back in Udaipur things were quite balanced. Sure, the house had a lot of fights and tussle but they were a family. And now? Now it felt like something broke, the connect was lost. That's what Dr. Abhimanyu Birla was lamenting about and he was not wrong. Neil could also hear how uncomfortable and conscious his brother sounded while speaking frankly.

"Main bohot... Akshu jaisa sound kar raha hoon naa?"

He chuckled to himself recalling the hesitance in that voice, as he kicked the pebble to the farthest corner. The call ended awkwardly though. With his brother ranting about her and her rant about him from few days ago, he was really caught in the middle. It didn't go unnoticed by Abhimanyu how silent his younger brother had been.

Was he really drifting apart from them?

He did not want to, not intentionally at least. Foster or not, family was family. But the distance did not help nor did the relations. Neither did feelings. To feel conflicted, this is what it was right? Who was right, who was wrong? A complete confusion. Was anyone ever completely right? All of them, including him, seemed wrong at the moment. The change of seasons was really messing up his head.

Pulling him out of his thoughts, the pink heels clicked lightly against the grass carpet.

"Chamgadar lost in thoughts, I see."

He rolled his eyes at that, nevertheless letting a smile grace his features. She stepped in closer as they stood side by side, watching the children play kho-kho. The dusk was settling as her eyes fell on the red, striking gulmohar flowers. January had just begun and spring seemed to be preparing for an early onset. Her attention from the flowers were lifted as slender fingers filled into the gaps between hers.

The clasp strong, they stood watching the shrieks and yells of the game in silence. Enjoying things they never did themselves. Walking leisurely, they sat on the bench staring at nothing. She got rid of the hair-band which held together her strands, her scalp tearing out at the tight bun. The open hair got the scent blend in the air again.

"I like your hair," he said, getting a single strand twisted around his finger.

"Just the hair?" she asked quirking her left brow, unable to keep the smugness away which got him laughing. Forgetting where they were for a minute, he leaned in while she widened her eyes, sliding back by an inch.

"They'll kick us out."

"Point," he mumbled, forgetting the thought which came into his mind the next second.

She tugged away her hair strand, commenting casually, "Waise, my shampoo seems to be finishing faster than it usually did. Sherlock Holmes, chakkar kya chal raha hain?"

At that he looked embarrassed, scratching the back of his head. His preference to peppermint now over cardamom was getting a bit out of hand. The perfect opportunity was when his own shampoo bottle became empty and he forgot to stock up. With the meeting in an hour, he had no other go.

"Oh shush woman," he replied quickly, trying to diffuse the situation which only ended up making her laugh harder. Wondering all the while, how did she even figure it out that. Pushing her hair back, she sighed, tired after another day's work. After her Friday offs, Saturdays felt like any other person's Monday. While he chose to spare the girl decked in pink floral a glance. The breezy wind brought the onslaught of the bougainvillea flowers on them, which got her scrunching her nose in annoyance.

"Pretty."

And the only way he knew amidst the stillness that he did not go unheard was when the cheekbones blanched first, only for the hue hit back with full force as she turned her head to the other side.

The pink tinge and the pink bougenvillas. The former truly managed to stand out.

The whirlwind of petals continued taking their own form. He agreed with his mind this time as he sneaked another peek.

Kya rangeen nazaara tha.

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