Farmeed Oneshots

11. Party Plans

I love her when she is happy. I love her when she is upset. I love her on days when she feels her best and as much on days where she feels her worst. I love it when her eyes speak on behalf of her when her mouth refuses to.

Speaking of my not so silent girl, she is staring into space, her arms folded and her weight on one leg. She's wearing her pink pyjama set, the one with a big butterfly in the middle of her t-shirt and a bunch of cute caterpillars on her pyjamas, each caterpillar having a two-dot-and-curve smile. Her hair was open, her voluminous strands barely affected by the light breeze's force. She had not spoken a word in the past five minutes, but her eyes were glistening with something, uncertainty. I can't pinpoint what was wrong, but something was wrong.

"Umeed" I say, taking a step ahead. "Tum pichle paanch minute se is setting to dekh rahi ho." I say, turning my head to face the same setting. Her eyes were glued to our garden, which was looking different tonight. "Theek to hai."

I had finally decided to host a dinner at my house in celebration of my company's latest success. After discussing everything with Umeed, we agreed on keeping it for this weekend.

Now, the night before, Umeed seems skeptical, and I am struggling to pin down what it is.

"Haan." She nodded slowly, taking a few steps back. "Bilkul theek hai" Her voice turned a little hoarse. She is bothered by something, but she is refraining from sharing it. Her discomfort was bringing me unease. She was the one who made my life much easier by handling the caterers, designers and the overall organising of the dinner. I am so proud of her for handling it with such ease and getting everything together. Now that it is done, I cannot pinpoint at what the possible flaw could be.

"Farjaad" She turns her head to face me. "Theek rahe ga na?" There was a glow in her eyes, one that was implying that she was looking for reassurance. I raised an eyebrow, placing my coffee mug on the table and walking towards her. I glanced down to see her tapping her left foot nervously, causing her whole body to shake.

"Kyun nahi theek ho ga? Tum ne itna acha sambhala hai sab kuch." I slowly raised my hand and placed it on her shoulder, feeling her relax into my touch. It scares me how much power we have over one another, how much a simple touch can change her body language completely. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, before turning her whole body from facing the garden to facing me.

"Nahi, mein setting ki baat nahi kar rahi." She shakes her head, looking everywhere but in my eyes. I was struggling to understand her, and reached out and placed my free hand under her chin, forcing her to make eye contact with me. My other hand remained on her shoulder, and I was moving my thumb with enough pressure to try and loosen her tense deltoid.

"Umeed, tum kyun pareshaan ho." I could see the worry in her eyes, she was distressed. It came as more of a surprise to me because she was exhilarated for the past two weeks when I had asked her to organise it for me. Every evening she would walk up with two mugs and a new story about how everything was going.

And I did it all for the right reasons. I knew she was always told that she is careless and reckless and cannot handle responsibility. I knew my Umeed and I knew she was much more than that. For that exact reason, I gave her the chance to put it all together. I knew that when given a chance, she would prove herself to be much more than just responsible. And the outcome proved me right. From the catering to the seating to the lighting, Umeed dealt with it all and left our garden looking like it was ready to host people. So now, her discomfort was unusual to me, especially now that she says that the reason for it is not the setting.

"Aap ke colleagues hoyein ge?" She asked and I nodded. She mirrored my action and gulped softly, onhaling sharply and letting out a heavy breath. "Matlab, aap jese hi log." It was like she was telling that to herself more than me. "Business karne waale, waqt ke paaband, mehnati. To unki biwiyan bhi un jesi hi hoti hoyien gi." She turned to face the garden, having a full on conversation with herself more than me.