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It was nearly 6:30, and I stood in front of the mirror, inspecting myself for tonight's dinner.
I adjusted my sleeves when I heard my grandmother's voice. "You look good in grey, Rudransh. You should often wear this," her compliment made my lips curve.
"Is that so? Do you like grey on me?" I asked, bending down. She was in her wheelchair. She put her hand on my head for "Aashirwad."
"So much. You look handsome in it," her words made me chuckle. I walked to the bed, and she followed me. I sat down. "Rudransh, something happened? You look happy," she asked.
"Happy? And me? Rudransh Singh Rathore? Nah, you are misunderstanding," I answered, wearing shoes.
"It's just... I'm not mad. After tonight, I will have to go to London. You have to take care of yourself, Dadii," I shared, pinching her cheeks. "Jarur, jarur, me toh khayal rakhungi, par tu apna khayal nahi rakhta. Tu apne liye koi dhund kyun nahi leta jo khayal rakhe," she started again. I sighed and held her chair from behind.
[ T : sure sure , I will take care of myself but you don't care about yourself, why don't you someone for you , the one who will care for you ]
"Dadi, wo pagal hai, wo apna khayal nahi rakh pati, mera kya rakhegi," I said, walking outside with her, holding the chair from behind. "What, do you like someone?" She almost shouted, and I realized my words.
[ T : Grandmother she is crackhead , she can't take care of herself, how would she will take care of me ]
Why the hell is this? What was the point of bringing her here? She was talking like someone, not to hate someone. I'm going crazy for real; Why did think about her in the middle of my grandmother's conversation.
"Just kidding, just kidding, Dadi," I left her in her room. "Bye," I walked outside quickly because I was running late.
I told the driver her address, and we left for her house. I was waiting to reach her house; my heart raced for no apparent reason. Puty hand on my chest and took a deep breath , closed my eyes and breath out.
We reached her house. The driver blew the horn, the door opened, and I looked at the road.
"Coming, coming," she shouted. I bit the inner skin of my mouth, trying my best not to look at her, and I succeeded.
She opened the door and sat next to me, and I was still looking outside. I swore to myself not to look at her until we reached there. She has a bad attitude, and I will not talk to her. Last night, I texted her, and it's been 24 hours, and she didn't see that.
She has time to discuss someone's personal life, but she has no time to read my message. I will not text her in my lifetime.
My heart thudded when her scent reached my nose, the same scent she left on my shirt. The same scent, I dared myself to smell that again.
