As he approached, he cast a lingering gaze over me, a captivating look. Meanwhile, I found myself fawning over him, struggling to find the right words.
Rudra's intense gaze softened into a warm smile as he approached. "You look absolutely.. heart-st...
मुस्कुराने की वजह तुम हो गुनगुनाने की वजह तुम हो जिया जाये ना, जाये ना, जाये ना ओ रे पिया रे ओ रे लम्हें तू कहीं मत जा हो सके तो उम्र भर थम जा जिया जाये ना, जाये ना, जाये ना ओ रे पिया रे...
****
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"Bhaiya! The light went out again!" I huffed, crossing my arms in the darkness that engulfed me.
"Not again!" I heard him mutter. "Princess, don't move around, okay? You might get hurt," he spoke, and I nodded, standing still. The oppressive blackness was unsettling, and I couldn't see anything.
"I'm scared, Bhaiya. It's so dark," I muttered, turning around, desperately trying to catch sight of him. Then, a glimmer of light emerged from the corner of the room. I turned to see Bhaiya standing there, holding a tiny torch, and a smile immediately spread across my face.
"Finally!" I spoke, running to him as he hugged me, chuckling. "Now you won't be scared," he reassured me, his eyes filled with love. I nodded, finding comfort in the small spotlight of the torch as I sat on the floor, playing.
"Will you always be there, Bhaiya, with the torch?" I asked with a hopeful smile.
"Of course, I will. Whenever you feel surrounded in the darkness, I'll bring the torch to you," he promised. I nodded, trusting that he would never let me feel scared again.
And then, in an instant, everything vanished. The torch's light was gone.
"Bhaiya?" I called out, but there was no response.
"Bhaiya!" I called out again, stretching my hands into the darkness to catch hold of him, but he was gone.
And I woke up, choking on my cries. The pain was not just emotional; it was physical, as if my chest was constricting with each heartbeat. My eyes were blurry as I looked around, desperately hoping to find Rudra, but he wasn't there. He had left.
I tried to stop my hiccups, rubbing my chest to alleviate the physical pain caused by my cries. He promised to come back and cuddle me, but he didn't. The empty space beside me only intensified the ache.
"Rudra," I muttered, the name escaping my lips like a plea, an unspoken need hanging heavy in the air.
I turned around, desperately searching for my phone to call Rudra, needing him in that moment. Despite feeling needy and desperate, I couldn't shake off the realization that he had brought this upon himself—the day he chose to be my solace, the day he witnessed all my vulnerabilities.
