Broken But Beautiful

40. Seven.

Manik

"Seriously? This is where he lives?" Abhimanyu murmured in the back seat, looking around.

Or should I say, trying to look around. Courtesy to the green wildlife all around and the storming rain that has been blessed upon us, after days of 'why-doesn't-it-rain-like-rain' march everywhere in Mumbai. Heck, I never would've believed Mumbai has this amount of woods left if I hadn't come to this side of the city.

And this was where Mr. Shakun Devar lived.

"Geez," Cabir mumbled behind me as another strike of violent thunder somewhere quite near us. The whole city seemed about to be falling apart.

"Shouldn't we go inside?" he called out loudly, looking around, "This storm doesn't look good to me,"

"But how do we get out of the car?" I screamed through another crash, "I can't even see his front door properly from here,"

Really. You could never imagine there was a house amongst this whole- forest thing. Funnily enough, from the looks of it, his house seemed to be quite a shape. I wondered what might have gotten into this man to leave his everything behind and get himself home- here.

But then, somehow I did feel this man. And I haven't even meet him yet.

"Let's make a run for it," I said, "It's better than getting stricken in this car,"

"Yeah but-" Abhi said back, "Does any of us know what to tell him yet?"

Cabir and I exchanged clueless faces from the front seats. It was true- we have no idea how to deal with him. Ever since he lost his license three years ago, he hasn't shown his face in the corporate world again. Even though his licence was cleared after a year, he never came back to practice. Sahil uncle tried hiring him back, but he declined.

So- I didn't think it should come to any surprise that we had no idea what to tell this guy.

"Uh- I think I should show my face first?" Cabir began, "Well, that's if he doesn't shut the door on our face-"

"Don't tell me he won't let us in," Abhi groaned, "Not in this-"

"Okay, guys?" I unlocked the car, "There's absolutely no point wondering about all these while sitting here in the car. Let's just- go. We'll figure out how to talk when we see him. Come on,"

By the time we reached his door, not one inch of our body was left dry. It was so dark among the woods, including the condition of the sky- let's just say it would've been easier to pull out a thread from a bunch of hay, not even a needle. Cabir stood in front of the door and knocked.

"Who is it?" came out a hoarse shout after five minutes of knocking, cussing and more knocking.

"Mr. Devar!" Cabir cried out almost way too desperately, "I'm Cabir Vardhan! Please open the door we're dying out here!"

It was another whole minute before the ancient, heavy open door creaked open, sinking us in yet another series of absolute darkness. We could hardly make out the short, taut figure standing on the door.

"Cabir?" a thick, hoarse voice with a heavy South-Indian accent scowled, "What are you doing here?"

Nandini

"Seriously, Madhav dear," my mother sighed, looking around the Vardhan House in distaste, "Are you sure you want the engagement to be- here? Come on, it's Madhav Mehta's enagagement! It should be grand!"

Madhav Mehta's. Point to be noted.

"Aunty, don't worry about it," Madhav assured her with his winning smile, "We can just arrange another get together afterwards, whatever you wish," then he looked at me, "This is what Nandini wanted. I just want her to be happy,"