Made For The Heaven | ✔ |

12.

12.

14th January' 1999, New Jersey, United States of America

"Y-you are Rajat, right?" a girl lying on the hospital bed asked the boy who was seated beside her on a steel stool, she touched Rajat's face, brushing his hair, "thank you so much for all this."

"Shut up," Rajat said, "if I were at your place then, what would you've done?"

"Don't you dare say anything nonsense like that," she yelled at Rajat, "I don't want anybody to be at my place, I don't want anyone to Mira."

"Of course not, Mira, you're one of a kind," he said and kissed Mira on her forehead.

"Where is Naina?" Mira asked, "I want to see her right now."

"Oh yea, she has gone to take some medicines," Rajat said, peeping out from the window he added, "she's back I guess."

"MIIIRRAAA," Naina squealed, "I'm Naina."

"Naina, come," she said opening up her arms signalling Naina to hug her and Naina ran past Rajat and hugged Mira, "it's so good to see you Naina."

"Aye, don't cry," Naina said as she felt a drop of a tear rolling down her shoulder.

"C'mon show me all the pictures of the orphanage, I know you've carried it with you," Mira said to Naina.

"Oh yea," Naina said and detached herself from Mira, "wait lemme take my bag, I guess I left it at the reception."

"Wait, I'll fetch your bag," Rajat said and walked away giving her a huge smile, "you stay with Mira."

Rajat was back in no time, he knew the colour and texture of Naina's bag, it was a blue sling bag which had some artificial flowers of white and some black pearls which Naina would carry every time, it had all the stuff a girl takes in her bag, somethings were like, she didn't use but, still kept it all. Above all this, her bag was so thin as if someone would say it has nothing.

"Uh- here he is," Naina said and took the bag from Rajat, "give."

She snatched the bag from Rajat and took out a group picture of the orphanage children, Sanjana.

"See, this is Sanju Tai," she said pointing to a woman in mustard-coloured saree, "and this, this, this is your Asmita," she said pointing to a girl in blue salwar-kameez. The girls kept on looking at the picture and reinscribing every moment.

"Uh- where is Amay?" Mira asked the couple, "he must've reached the airport, Rajat, why don't you call him," Mira sighed, "I know it's Nilofar's PTA meetings, but, he said, he'd arrive here before I'd open my eyes."

"Uh-Mira," Rajat said and came near her and took her hand in his, "Amay has met with an accident."

"When and how did this happen?" asked the girl with hazel-black eyes, which got their sight a few hours ago, she was resting on the hospital bed with Rajat narrating an incident to her, "tell me, Rajat," she asked Rajat.

"I-I don't know Mira," Rajat said, "Ru-Rukhsaar called from India and said that," he stopped.

"Said what, Rajat," Mira said in a high voice, "tell me."

"A-Amay, our Amay has met with an accident," Rajat said and tightly held Mira's hands in his.

"What!" Mira was shocked, "Is he alright?"

"I don't know anything," Rajat answered with disappointment.

"M-Mira, you just, take care of yourself," Naina said rather hesitantly.

"Oh yes, I know, Amay's going to be alright," Mira said assuring herself, "Rajat, you go and tell Rukhsaar and Sanju Tai that I'm all ok."

*

13th January' 1999, Orphanage, Mumbai, India

Asmita banged up the receiver and started running here and there, "Sanju Tai, where are you," she went in the kitchen, "Lata Maushi, Tai, kuthe aahe?" (Aunt Lata, where is Sanjana?) she didn't even bother to wait for an answer as she couldn't see Sanjana in the kitchen, she then started climbing up the staircase and went up on the roof, "Tai, here you are," she said and moved up to the girl who was watering the plants, Sanjana, the girl in a faded grey saree, her hairs all messed up, "Naina Tai, called, Mira Tai is all ok, she can see absolutely everything, and they'll reach India on 19th January."

"Thank god, all's good," Sanjana smiled and folded her hands and started praying, slowly her smiling face turned into a sad one, "Ashu, how're we going tell her everything about Amay?"

"I don't know Tai, how're we going to handle her," Asmita said, "Rajat Dada has told her that, Amay Dada has met with an accident, I don't know, how is everything going to be handled."

"Yes, I'm afraid, how's Mira going to react to it," Sanjana said as both girls headed downwards, "c'mon, let's prepare for tomorrow, it's Makarsankranti."

"Yea, have you prepared tilgud?" Asmita said with a kiddish grin, "every year it's Mira Tai who makes the laddoos, and you are just pathetic with it, no doubt you make good barfis, but, your laddoos are just next to impossible."

"Okay, it's ok huh, Ashu, enough, Amay loves the laddoos made by me," she said with rather a disappointment, "think of it, Ashu, we're so much attached to him, then, Mira is..."

"I know Tai, but," she said in a heavy voice, "it's the law of nature."

*

13th January'1999, Bandra, Mumbai, India

"Nilofar, baby, come out," Rukhsaar said banging up the door of her room, "Amay is gonna be back, bacha, he knows everything you're doing here, he knows that you haven't eaten since last night, and he also knows that you're sad. Come out, bacha, or else, Amay will complain to Allah, that you're being a bad girl."

"Okay, only for him and Allah," Nilofar said and unlocked the door, "Ammi!!!"

"Sh... Sh... bacha, we all love Amay, you, Mira, Naina, Rajat," Rukhsaar said rubbing Nilofar's back, "don't worry, he's alright."

"Are you saying this to me or yourself?" Nilofar says sharply and moves away, she sobs as she heads the door.

"How come my child grew so much? How? When?" Rukhsaar said wondering, "Kids raised by single parents grow up so early," she sighed and went into the kitchen to prepare some snacks for Nilofar.

"Ammi, what are plans for Sankranti?" Nilofar asked from the kitchen door, "it's Amay's favourite festival, you know."

"Bacha, we won't celebrate it this year," Rukhsaar said and started kneading the dough, "pass that jug."

"Ammi!! This is not fair," Nilofar said and passed her the jug, "it's Amay's favourite festival."

"Shut up, Nilofar," Rukhsaar said furiously, "and what is this Amay, Amay, he's older than you na, call him Uncle, and don't say that, from now onwards, we won't celebrate Makarsankrat, you get that? And I don't want any further debate on this, you'll know the reason as you grow up.

***