Chapter 60- Of Sickness And Misery

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CHAPTER 60

OF SICKNESS AND MISERY

Karan eyed her quietly. Monami was unusually silent. She was cheerful usually, yapping to him all about her day. Even her legs weren't swinging. "Bad day?" He asked. He leaned next to her on the slab.

She looked up at him. She shook her head. "N-Nahi. Bas k-kuchh soch r-rahi thi."

He tilted her head. "Aisa kya soch rahi ho?"

She didn't speak for a long time and he waited patiently, letting her gather her thoughts. She looked at him finally, swallowing slightly. "Param Bh-Bhaiya..." He paused, his cup halfway to his mouth. "I s-saw him a-around. Woh..."

He sighed, keeping the cup down. "He will be here ab", he said. "Batra Sir ne unhe strategy consultant ki tarah bulwaaya hai." She looked down, nodding. "Does that bother you?"

She shook her head. "It's... It's h-harder jab woh un-unexpectedly d-dikhte hain. But if he st-stays here, I'll g-get used to s-seeing h-him. It w-won't be th-that bad." She fiddled with her cup.

"Monami." He paused till she looked up. "Agar tumhe kabhi kisi cheez ke baare mein baat karni ho, you can come to me", he said firmly. "Yeh mat sochna ki Bhaiya mere bhai hain, toh you can't talk to me about it. Tumhe koi bhi dikkat ho, kuchh bhi baat karni hai, you can always, always come to me."

She smiled. "Aa-Aapko b-bolne ki zaroorat n-nahi hai yeh b-baat. I know." He smiled. Her smile faded slightly and she opened her mouth. "Can I a-ask you s-something?"

"Kabhi mana kara hai maine?"

"I... I think I s-saw m-metal. Bh-Bhaiya ke... l-legs par. Does he... D-Does he h-have p-prosthetics?" She asked hesitantly. His face fell and he looked away, taking a deep breath.

'Isse achha toh mar hi jaata!'

"I am s-sorry." He opened his eyes, looking at her. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, eyes wide. "M-Mujhe nahi p-puchhna ch-chahiye tha. You d-don't have to an-answer."

He shook his head. "There is nothing jo tum mujhse nahi puchh sakti ho", he said. He nodded. "He does have prosthetics. His legs are amputated."

Her lips parted slightly in shock. "That's t-terrible", she whispered.

"6 saal pehle." He could hear them. The gunshots, the screams, the blast. "We were on a mission. He was... too close to a bomb." He took a deep breath, pushing the memories away. "He obviously couldn't do active duty uske baad. Par... he's serving again ab. We are a little low on personnel."

She tilted her head. "Aa-Aap log uss m-mission par s-saath mein the?"

His gaze snapped to hers. "Tumhe kaise pata?"

"You l-look g-guilty. And t-traumatized. I h-have been to e-enough s-support g-groups to know the l-look." He looked away. "Are y-you o-okay?" She reached out, gently clutching his hand. He nodded, intertwining his fingers with hers. She sparked another conversation, diverting the topic but her hand didn't slip out of his and he made no move to let go of it.

Almost an hour later, when they parted their ways, his palm was cold. He missed her hand in his.

---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

"Karan?" Faizi frowned, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Utho. Drill ke liye taiyaar nahi hona tumhe?" He glanced at the time, before back at his best friend. He never woke up that late on working days.

Karan groaned, turning to his back. "Nahi jaana", he muttered, pulling the covers up. The light wasn't letting him sleep.

"Kya hua?" He sat down next to him, keeping a hand on his forehead. His frown deepened. He didn't have a fever. But he was soaked with sweat. "Karan? Bimaar ho kya? Tumhe itna paseena kyun aa raha hai?"

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