Anidita : The Flaming Flambeau

CHAPTER 4 : OPEN SECRETS

Her hand graced my hair and she murmured some blessing.

"Saalon baad apni Mayka keise yaad aagayi tumhe?"

"Woh... Bohot din hogaye hai na sabse milke, isiliye socha..." I trailed off.

Her eyes swept from up and down my body. I internally cringed at the fact that I was still wearing that cotton saree from our act. Luckily, she decided to not utter a word about it. But I'm sure she already has her guesses for my attire. Then her gaze swept from left to right and finally fixed on me with a new found life.

"Akele aayi ho?"

Well... Here goes nothing.

"Haan"

A single eyebrow rose on her forehead.

"Iss baar kya kiya hai uss Anirudh Roy Chowdhary ne?"

I internally sighed. How come she know it every single time?

"Kuch bhi toh nahi. Pati babu aana chahte the lekin unhe achanak kaam ke silsile se Culcutta jana pada"

"Zyada baat, zyada laat. Tabhi samjhe mard jaat" she shook her head smugly, expressing pretty well she didn't buy my latest lie.

Oh, she had one reserved for men too? I never knew...

"Yeh sab chodo, didi ap batao! Mere liye kuch nahi laye?"

Thanking Tapur internally, I turned to her with a broad smile. Thank Dugga Maa, I'm rescued at least for now.

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A yellowish orange leaf floated down ever so slowly to place itself on my head. I smiled and pulled it out of my open hair. In front of me, the whole river bank is covered with the same leaves – decorating the ground in a mixture of hues. Some of them floated along the crystal clear water surface, creating beautiful ripples here and there. I sighed and sat down on the big rock overlooking the entire river bank. It's been ages since I've been here – probably fifteen years or so...

The last time Baba brought me here, I remember him and I drenching each other by splashing water and even making mud houses. A smile touched my lips. I missed him since then. I miss him every single day.

"Kyun? Tum bhul gayi ki meine tumse kya bola tha uss din?"

That voice brought me out of my thoughts. My smile widened and I turned to face the man sitting beside me.

"Jab bhi tumhe meri zaroorat ho, jab bhi tumhe mujhse baat karne ka mann ho, toh turant yahan, humare iss Badmash ghar aa jana Mishti Sinhi"

"Apke shabdon ko mein bhala keise bhul sakti hoon Baba?" I replied.

This is probably just a dream. No, it is a dream! Because beside me sat my deceased Baba, wearing that favourite light green Kurta of his. His features are still the same – young flawless skin, dark, mysterious, loving eyes, strong physique and raven black hair. It was really him – my Baba.

"Toh batao. Aisa kya hogaya ki tumhe apne Baba se milna pada?"

"Mein khud ko kho rahi hoon Baba... Mujhe darr hai mein kahi -"

I stopped abruptly, not knowing how to stop the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes.

"Kisi aur ko apne dil dene mein koyi galti nahi hai Mishti Sinhi. Balki hum apna dil sirf unko dete hai jis par humein khud se zyada bharosa hai. Kyunki humein yakeen hai ki humse zyada woh humara khayal rakhenge. Kyunki humein yakeen hai ki woh uss dil ko khone ke bare mein kabhi sochenge bhi nahi"