Ram was in the middle of the dinner, watching Kuch kuch hota hain – one of his favorite evergreen movies.
"Papa, you know how much I love singing and dancing..."
"No..."
He giggled. He loved the movie mainly for two reasons. One, for the story itself. And two, choti Anjali reminds him of choti Shivi – who is not so badi even today – every single time. The way she spoke, her lovely wide smile, her cute-pouted face while making demands, her frown while arguing with him, everything.
Years passed, Shivi grew into a young beautiful woman, now married, yet nothing changed about her. Nothing changed between them. She is still a kid who put forth demand, and he fulfills it.
"Tomorrow is big day for Shivi. I should talk to her," he mused and dialed her.
Shivina aspired to start a fashion boutique. Since she wanted to do everything by herself, Ram advised her to first work in some firm to understand the system and get some real experience. Accordingly, she contacted few acquaintances & boutiques, gave interviews and secured an internship.
He wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder while heaping his plate with some more biryani.
****
"Mr. Kapoor," she gasped as he suddenly appeared in front of her. "You scared me."
"And you scared me. Why didn't you tell me?"
"What?" she sniffled, confused, and dabbed the tissue on her nose. "And what are you doing here?"
"To see you."
Priya froze at his answer.
"Woh... umm... Shivi told me you are sick. When I arrived here, I got to know that Meera Aunty is at Mama's place. Even Akki is out of town for his play. It's just three of you, so I thought someone should be here... just in case of any emergency," he added.
"I... we... we'd have–"
"I know, you would have managed," Ram interrupted her, "but give chance to others. At least when you're sick."
"It's nothing," she managed to say before sneezing. "Just some cold and cough."
"Hmm. Just some cold and cough. For which you took half day and was sleeping for past 4-5 hrs that you even missed your dinner," he interjected.
Astounded by his comment, she stared at him.
"Shivi told me," he murmured.
"You are overreacting," she replied and turned away. "It is already late. I will have food. Go and sleep."
He followed her.
"Mr. Kapoor..."
"Even I am starving. I was so tense that I left my meal in..." he shut his mouth.
She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Was he so worried that he missed his dinner?
She mentally shook herself and gave him a weak nod, before she started walking.
"Why did you refuse to see a doctor?" he questioned as they entered the kitchen.
"Cause it is not that serious."
"You are not doctor."
She glared and opened the refrigerator.
"I know how strong you are." He took the bowl from her hand and pushed the door with his elbow. "But for a change, listen to others. The world wouldn't stop if you rest."
He offered to heat the lentil curry – Sara had cooked meal before going back to her house due to Priya's sickness. She declined his help. She was sure that Ram had never cooked or worked in kitchen, at least for last few years.
"So what?" he raised his brows. "I have seen Tarun working in the kitchen sometimes..." he paused, "Not like that. At times I happened to be there so..." he explained.
She kept her hands on her waist and shot him a look.
He ignored her and placed the pot on the burner.
"Arey, why isn't this working?" he complained after twisting the knob, twice. "I think we are out of the gas. Let me call–"
She turned off the knob, took the gas lighter, then lit the burner.
"Oh..." He kept back his mobile phone. "Humara aisa nahi hain. You see it's automatic." (Ours is different)
"But this is not," she sneered, pouring the curry. She warned him how dangerous this could be. "You should be careful, Mr. Kapoor."
"Hmm," he responded vaguely and snatched the ladle. "I know the rest. I will do it properly."
"But–" she attempted to stop him but he wouldn't listen.
She crossed her arms, glaring at him, while he glanced frequently, smiling, to mend her.
"Ouch!" he cried, as he touch the hot ladle he left at the rim of the pot few minutes back.
"Mr. Kapoor!!!" she panicked. She examined his hand, red marks on his thumb and side of index finger, turned off the stove, and yanked him near the sink.
She held his hand under the running water. He shut his eyes, trying not to scream in pain.
Even though it was a minor burn, it ached a lot.
"I warned you, didn't I?" she fumed, her voice elevated than ever, "but you won't listen. You only do what you want to."
He slightly opened his eyes and peeked to catch a glimpse of raging Priya.
It's better you shut your mouth, Ram.
When his pain eased, she dragged him to the living area. She made him sit on the sofa and dashed into her room to get a clean cloth and ointment.
She sat beside him. She took his hand and leaned ahead to clean the surface.
The air smelled of her. The familiar earthy scent of her hair was, today, slightly mixed with vaporub. He wondered how this moment, his encounter with her hair, is always short-lived.
That moment, he wished for more.
He inched closer, as she applied the ointment on his fingers carefully while lightly blowing on it.
Inadvertently, his eyes closed, feeling the gentle breeze she blew, feeling her soft touch on his skin.
His shoulders dropped, feeling lighter. With each blow, he felt like she was blowing away the painful weight, heaviness that's been there in his heart for years.
****
She kept the food on the dining table and started to served them, still not looking or talking to him. She tore the chapati into small pieces knowing he won't be able to tear it and passed the plate.
And she began to eat.
Ram, kuch karna hoga, taapman ab bhi garam hain. (Ram, she's still mad, do something.)
"Yum! This smells so delicious. Sara Di cooks as good as Meera Aunty does," he attempted to initiate conversation.
She continued to eat without acknowledging his presence.
He glanced at her few times, thinking of different ways to get her talk to him. An idea flashed his mind.
He cleared his throat and knocked on the table. "Knock! Knock!!"
She ignored.
"Knock! Knock!!" he repeated, but she remained adamant.
"Fine, I'll answer," he muttered.
"Who's there?" he said, slightly in high-pitched and angry tone, mimicking her.
She pressed her lips together, hiding the wisp of smile that was about to form on her lips.
"Sorry."
"Sorry who?" he continued mimicking her, motivated by her invisible smile.
"Yes. Sorry hoon. Bohot, bohot sorry. I was only trying to help but," he paused. "Anyways, I assure you that I will be more careful next time. Please, let it go."
She eyed him through corner of her eye. And his droopy eyes, apologetic face melted her.
"Pakka?" she said at last.
"Pakka."
"Ek aur, please," he said, followed by knocks on the table again. "Knock! Knock!!"
He tilted his head, requesting her to respond, "Knock! Knock!!"
"Who's there?" she suppressed her laugh.
"Hatch."
"Hatch who?"
He gauffed while speaking, "God... god bless you!"
Her eyes popped out and so did some water as she almost spill it out.
They glanced at each other and giggled, little on his joke but mostly on each other's sense of humor.
"By the way there is something that can cure your viral permanently," he said after sometime.
"What?"
"Baarish."
"Baarish?"
"Yes." His eyes gleamed. "You should get drench in rain. Once you get used to it, you'll be immune to rain, just like me."
"Immune like you?"
He nodded smugly.
"Yeah. People should get drench in rain to immune themselves from cold and cough. You know, what else we should do?" she began to rant. "We should stop using mosquito repellent and let them bite us so we get immune to malaria. We should eat unhygienic street food and unfiltered water so we get immune to it."
He choked on water.
"And why just stop here? You should start eating prawns, and I should eat Paneer until we get immune to it. Strong and healthy just like you," she added sarcastically.
He burst into laughter.
She expected him to convince and argue further, instead he was laughing. So she asked, "What is so funny about this?"
"Nothing," he replied, "We just talked like my parents."
"Matlab?" she turned to him
"When I was a kid, I used to get drench in rain a lot. After changing into dry clothes, my dad would hand me a glass of warm turmeric milk and dry my hair. While I drink the milk and he dried my hair, he used to narrate their stories to me. So–" he put a morsel into his mouth– "Whenever it rained, dad would help me to sneak out of the house to get drench in it. But as we returned, we'd find furious Maa standing at the door, glaring at us, holding towels," he giggled.
"Scared, I would quietly gulp down the glass of milk, and she would dry my hair while scolding us."
"Then Dad would try to reason with her, just like I did, and Maa would rebuke, just like you. In the end, Dad would stand in the corner, keeping his head down, and listen to her," he paused. "Again just like me," he added in low voice which she didn't seem to hear it.
"Did he love rain, too?" she asked curiously.
"Umm, not really. He liked rain normally. Like anyone, any normal individual. Not you," he teased and stuffed another morsel, "yet he'd come in rain with me. Only for me. He knew how much I love rain. He taught me to make boats, not just the basic one, but the complicated boats too. Together, we would put them in the water and watch them sail," he rejoiced.
"I have those pictures. Would you like to see them?"
She nodded, smiling.
"Great!" He gulped some water. "So, it is decided. Next time you visit Kapoor Mansion, I will show you all my childhood pictures. Rain, boats, beaches, picnics, everything."
"Basically, Dad has photographed my entire childhood," he added, his eyes met hers, watching and listening him fondly, only to tore each other's gaze awkwardly.
"Anyways. Moral of the story is 'Occasionally drenching in rain keeps a doctor away.'"
****
Despite her strict orders to not worry about her and go to bed, he stayed out of her room, waiting for her to sleep sound.
She was sleeping, thanks to the drowsy medication, but often coughed. It distressed him so much that he couldn't let himself to Shivi's room unless he was certain about her.
Worried, he walked into her room.
He stood near her. She was sleeping on her side with her back facing him. He towered over her to check. She was asleep with a frown, visibly irritated with cough and fever.
He sat on the edge of the bed and lightly patted on her head so that she sleeps well.
Few moments later, she rolled over, now facing him. Heat rushed through his veins when her hand fell over his hand.
Momentarily, he stared at their hands wondering whether or not he should pull his hand back. But soon his thoughts were cut short as Priya, while in sleep, curled her fingers around his hand.
He liked the way she held his hand.
So he did not take away his hand. Instead he sat there for some time, watching her sleep.
The room was mostly dark except for the dim low bulb and beam of streetlight reflecting through the transparent window glass.
She looked ethereal in the faint white light falling over her face. There was something serene, in spite of the illness and irritation, in her that soothed his senses.
Wow. She is so beautiful.
Nahi, Ram. What are you doing? What are you saying??
In a heartbeat, he was snapped out of his thoughts. He stood up in haste and stepped back.
You are really tired. Also, you... you ate too much. You need... need some sleep. You should sleep.
****
Even though Priya took a sick leave, she woke up early out of habit. She got out of the bed and was baffled to find him asleep on the couch.
Last night, anytime he walked to the door, her sickness and his anxious thoughts didn't let him step out of the room. Lastly, he decided to sit there, out of concern, until she feels better. While waiting for her to sleep sound, he himself fell asleep.
He had curled up his body to fit in the small space. He was scratching his head and neck due to the heat and sweat, frequently tossing and turning.
Immediately, she bolted to the switch board, recalling she'd turned off the fan before sleeping. She pressed the button and rotated the regulator to the maximum speed.
A wave of guilt rippled in her at sight of him, sleeping uncomfortably the entire night, followed by a realization.
He stayed. Again.
She went near him. "Mr. Kapoor."
She called him again. He hummed, then rolled over to the other side.
She scrunched her eyes at the bedside alarm clock and thought of letting him sleep for a while.
After sometime, she got out of the bathroom and glanced at him.
He was still sleeping, now slightly relaxed.
She hung the towel on the stand and went to him. She tried to wake him up again, while he replied with the same 'hmm'.
Left with no other choice, she knelt beside the couch and shook him. "Mr. Kapoor, please get up."
He exhaled heavily and turned to her. He blinked few times before completely opening his eyes.
"Priya," he said softly and smiled.
She is looking more beautiful than last night, he mused. Her imploring eyes fixed on him. Her damp face and hair tied into a messy bun with few tresses, slightly wet, over her face. His smile widened as few last moments replayed in his mind. It felt like waking up to a bright morning.
It felt like waking up to a dream.
Suddenly, she stood up with a jerk.
"All okay?" he looked up, puzzled.
She bobbed her head. Then without looking at him she said, "I think you mistakenly fell asleep on the couch last night."
"Oh... oh!" he scanned around and sat up instantly.
"You are here, Bhai?" Shivina entered the room. "I thought you left."
She nudged him and widened her eyes, hinting at the unbuttoned kurta.
He flinched, embarrassed.
He glanced at Priya, who finally faced him.
"Sorry. Sorry–" He buttoned his kurta– "It... it so was hot. I might... in sleep. Sorry."
"Which is why I slept with Sandy in Bua's room, so you could sleep in my AC room but you..." She gave a suspicious look to both of them.
They exchanged a look as he mumbled something, explanation.
"Anyways," Shivi ended the discussion. She turned to Priya. "Di, we are leaving. We'll have something on our way. What should I order for you?"
Priya refused. She told her that she was feeling much better and will manage everything. Then she wished her luck for the new job.
"Yes, Shivi. All the very best," he joined in. "I know, you will rock it!"
She hugged both of them, separately, before leaving the room.
"Why did you get up so early?" Ram bounced to her and pressed back of his hand on her forehead.
"I am fine now," she sniffled, "Just some–"
"Just some cold, I know," he taunted.
She rolled her eyes.
"Yet I'd suggest you take some rest," he paused and raked his fingers through his hair. "And I... I really didn't know... when... and how..." he motioned towards the couch. "I am sorry."
"Nahi. I should be sorry. You had to sleep like this. You must be in pain," she said, pointing at his shoulder he was holding. "I feel terrible."
"You shouldn't. You didn't ask me to sleep on the couch. If anything, you should worry about yourself."
"At least I'm on leave unlike you who has to work the entire day."
"Kisne kaha?"
Priya narrowed her eyes.
"I, too, took a day off. I texted Adi last night," he added smugly.
"Mr. Kapoor, how could you?" she knitted her brows.
"Cause I am the boss," he blurted but tried to manage the situation in the next moment, "And there aren't any important meetings either."
"Meetings or not, you don't need to neglect your work and stay back because I was sick," she scolded in frustration and opened the cupboard.
"Now where are you going?"
"Heading back to Kapoor Mansion," he replied, staring at the floor, in upsetting voice.
"Stop," she commanded. She handed him a new toothbrush and washed towel – which she always kept, just in case of guest emergency, like today.
"You will freshen up while I prepare us breakfast. Now that you are on leave, you will have breakfast and rest here for a while."
He grinned.
"I cannot allow a dozy person to drive," she covered up.
"Priya, It's been a while we didn't eat ghee upma," he suggested, before she disappeared into the kitchen.
****
Ram hit the send button, replying the last mail, and closed all the tabs. He called Tarun and navigated to the video player.
After sometime, Nandini knocked on the opened door and entered his room. "Ram, you are not ready yet," she complained.
He looked up.
He was slouching down in the single sofa chair, resting his head on one armrest while legs hanging down on the other, with his laptop over his stomach. He stuffed some popcorn into his mouth, while watching KKHH which he left in between last night.
"Mom!" He pulled out the airport, kept aside the laptop. "Aap yaha?"
"We were...." her voice trailed off at the sight of the corner – tray on the serving cart filled with chips, nachos and popcorns and cold drinks, files on the table, towel hanging on the sofa, loafers lying on the floor.
He got up instantly.
"You are yet to take shower, aren't you?"
"No... I..." He yanked the towel. "I was just going."
"Tarun told me that you took a day off but you are still working," she paused. "Ram, I understand you prioritized work more than anything but socialising is also part of it. And getting late to a party is not cool."
Wait! Is there a party I forgot about? But I usually don't. Perhaps cause of Priya's cold. Anyways. Henceforth I will ask Tarun to remind this things too.
"Ram, are you listening?" she confirmed in slightly higher tone.
"Hmm. Yes, yes Mom. You guys get going, I'll get ready and join you guys soon."
She blinked. "Hurry up! Else you might miss Vedika cut her birthday cake."