Alfaaz

Chapter 15: Ijaazat

People!

How are we all?

Thank you so very much for your kind and patient support. I know, I am a very highly irregular writer and it must be a pain keeping up with the pace, or lack thereof, so thank you very much for hanging around and loving my works. 

Right, so coming to this one. Ijaazat, which literally means permission. Oh the irony of the timing of this piece, more on what's ironic later. What do you guys think this one is about? I have been dropping subtle hints and some not so subtle. Some of you have managed to figure out the future, keen eye you guys! Well, those that have yet to understand which way this is headed, please read on to find out.

Oh I nearly forgot, this one is dedicated to all of you! All of you that have ever read my works, all of you that stuck by, all of you that put me where I am today. Thank you for all of your support. This one is for you!

Also, if you guys can, please give "In my veins" by Andrew Belle a hear, the song is sheer beauty! I've used it in this update. I hope you guys find it as soulful as I do! The song you can find as an external link in this part. This piece has been written 5-7 lines at a time and I have not proofread it either, so ignore mistakes if any and apologies if this part is not as good as you may have expected.

Here's presenting, Ijaazat!

IJAAZAT

The house was eerily silent. Her family was on their yearly visit to their village. Generally, she would accompany too but she had excused herself this time stating she had to find an investor for her business and she had licences to take care of too. Truth being told, the more important reason for her refusal was Shravan.

She wanted to spend time with him, unhindered. His family was no issue at all, they were really open minded people. She thought the same of her family until one evening Mamiji, over a cup of tea, pointed out that she had a young college going daughter in the house and she didn't like Shravan roaming around like he owned the place. Nanaji had given her a earful and stated that Shravan did own the place, it was his grand-father's home and he could do as he pleased. He didn't miss the opportunity to point out the fact that he thought Shravan needed saving from Manju's daughter, since she would pull off her mother's antics some day or another.

Suman was thankful that Shravan wasn't around to hear all of that, it would have been mortifying. A smile crept up her face which grew into full blown laughter as she remembered the story, strike that love story, of Mamaji and Mamiji that Nanu had once told her. A young, fresh graduate Mamaji had been enchanted by the vivacious yet uneducated Manju. She had assumed that the great Raghuvansh Tiwari's son would be equally great if not more. It was much later that she realised he was a government worker, unlike his lawyer father but his honesty remained inherited. Which spelled doom to her, for he wasn't as rich as she thought he would be. A week into the marriage and she regretted falling in love with the simple bloke.

The buzzing of her phone brought her out of her thoughts. Smiling she answered, "What?!"

"What what?" Was mouthed from the other end of the phone. "A million times I've told you, talk like a lady. A person can say hello at least Sumo!" He fretted.

"Chup kar Push-kar!" She rhymed it, "This is how I am. What is it?" She shrugged, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she held the pan with one hand and shook the ladle with the other.

Pushkar sighed and asked, "What's wrong with Bhaiya?"

Suman let go of the ladle and held the phone in her hand, "What happened to Shravan?" She asked, loudly. Her eyes getting wider, "Tell me! What happened to him? You threw something on his head didn't you?" She face-palmed so hard he could hear it through the phone. "Arey! Why are you so silent now? Cat caught your tongue?" She spoke exasperated.