S5 is literally releasing in less than 2 weeks, my dil goes "hmmm..." Haaye! I'm going to have more motivation, more scenes... hehe! Bohot zyaada emotional hone wala hai lagta hai, but I'm so fucking down for it! :P
⭒
Manik
It had been just around 10 days since we had left Manchester, a city I had spent over the last five years of my life in. Four more weeks, and everything would be how it once was. Everything.
I pulled my hair back with a windy headband and seated myself on my bed with the guitar in my lap. The stickers that once marked our school band, and the stickers that were slapped on to imply certain jokes were now worn out, peeled and destroyed just like the friendship that wove us.
"Hey Manik, you have a house here in Mumbai, how come you aren't staying there?" Bill asked, turning the TV on as he plopped on his bed.
I strummed my guitar once, turned to him and paused in my sentence. Was it worth explaining years of backstory to this man I merely work with?
"Home is where your people are, I don't have any of them left,"
"You gotta cheer up man, this heartbroken hero vibe goes really well with the singer 'you', not the real 'you'," I am not heartbroken. I just don't get that unconditional blanket of compassion for my actions anymore.
I don't feel understood. I don't feel liberated.
I don't know who I am anymore.
"I mean, there's got to be something else to life, someone else for whom you wake up every morning," He said, while searching for Star Sports, his go-to channel for the past two weeks here.
"I have nobody of that sort," I said, tuning my guitar another time before stroking it.
It was true, I found it exhausting talking about my past with anyone, even those who were once friends. I no longer confided in them. And everyone, no matter how broken they are, wants someone to talk to. Khulke, at some point in their lives.
With her, I did. How... how did Nandini know things nobody else knew? While Dhruv was fighting his troubles, when I had my share of drama, Mukti, Navya... how did she know exactly what everyone was going through? At least I never had affectionate parents, I never knew what it felt like, but she... she had that love, had that carem and then lost them midway through her childhood. How was she still so pure, always there for everyone when they needed her the most?
Main khudse... gham sa gaya hoon
Shayad main tujh mein mil jaaunga
What about when she needed someone?
What about when you dumped her, Manik? Whom did she have by her side?
"Then you should come clubbing with us, I banged a chick from Bang-alore yesterday, we'll set you up with someone too," Bangalore, it struck a chord. I dropped my pick. The blood in my veins boiled. It can't be her, it can't be her...
My fingers pulled on the strings, pressed on the chords more forcibly than usual. All until I felt quick, sharp, stinging, numbing pain; it spread from the tips of my fingers, enveloped my arms, and settled in my chest as I welcomed it serenely with closed eyes.
Wow Manik, chodd toh aise aasaani se diya, but just the thought of her with someone else triggers you so much!
My eyes flashed open, somewhat stinging. I blinked rapidly, forcing random objects into my vision to keep a steady head. Smoke. I needed a smoke.
Dhruv knocked before entering. Just once. My madman strumming stopped as he opened, clinging to the door. "Hey Manik, I was just thinking... it's been years since we hung out together, all five of us... shall we go on a trip, or retreat of some sort?"
No, I... haven't forgotten, I wanted to say. I turned to my side, half-eyeing Dhruv and half-eyeing the wall beside me. That had now separated us. Hanging out with them the past few days had been amazing, refreshing of sorts. I hadn't expected to relish it as much as I did, but it had to end there. There was no room in my life for redemption arcs of this sort. Especially not with them. At least the Manchester Manik would've thought that.
Everything was just as it was, wasn't it?
Dhruv hadn't moved from his spot. Bill, who I thought had his ears plastered to the TV, had been looking at me all along, in wonder. As his focus shifted to Dhruv, he wondered why the hell he was still waiting after such a clear cut sign of reluctance. Then convinced that Dhruv had come with a purpose and would not budge until it played along as he wished, he whispered, "I think you do have some of your people left,"
⭒⭒⭒
Usually, we don't have school on Saturdays. Because of the Science fair, everyone was meant to be in school until 12:30, and our buses dropped us back home. There were a few more stops to hit on the way back, delaying my lunch time by over an hour.
I sighed in my seat, feeling drained. I vaguely remembered in the way to my bus, I recognised Harshad walking a few metres behind me.
Moments later, he was beside me, getting an introduction.
"Nice to meet you... I've seen you around," Around Mukti... I thought to myself. I told him I was Abhimanyu's sister, which led to a completely uncalled for discussion.
On talking to him, he seemed a lot sweeter than what I had pictured him to be. He revealed that he was Alia's older brother by months, and was very protective of her himself. She had many a times steered into the wrong tracks, especially in matters surrounding herself. Self-bias does that to you, he said. But people who care about you can see it very clearly. And they want to help, but only if you allow them to. Alia does not.
None of that changed the fact that he was still horrible with Mukti, I thought as I replayed the scenario.
I disembarked from the bus, shoulders slouched, a huge burden off my chest. School had been exhausting today, and had shown no mercy in guilt-tripping my existence in this world. As all this was running through my head, my brain had shoved aside the fact that a special guest was coming over today. I was starving, but had not noticed... not until I smelt the cardamom at our footsteps.
Ammamma was here. It was Ganesh Pooja today.
Quickly shuffling my shoes away next to the multiple pairs scattered about near the home's threshold, I hopped into the house, feeling a sense of enlightenment at the first step in. Lots of aunties and children had wandered into the house in a similar trance, and had gathered along different parts of the house in chit-chat, "Ammamma!" I squeaked, leaning in to scan the house in a scurried manner, determined to not make eye contact with anyone else who would steer me away from my mission to find my dearest darling grandmother.
"Illi haak bidu, saaku," Her voice echoed from the distance. I followed the sound to the balcony.
A makeshift stove and kadais were set up under a shamiana and multiple dishes were being made side by side. I was swift to notice the soaked lentils waiting to be ground into vada batter, and the condensed milk bubbling in one of the pots with some vermicelli. Ammamma gleamed as she saw me, her bangles and anklets jingling as she embraced me in a warm motherly hug. I surrendered, inhaling her scent and the solace I felt in my childhood days clinging to her for support of every kind right after my parents were snatched away from me.
"Nandu kanna... Why are you so late, it's almost 2... your Chikkamma said you would be here by 1, we had all our lunch heated up and ready," I thoroughly explained what had happened, as I was shovelled into the kitchen with a plate. She seemed least interested in what I had to say, as her attention was fully on ladling some rice into my dish with a dollop of the most flavourful and heartiest sambar. I was sure half my energy had replenished by merely seeing the plate. I had in the meantime washed my hands in the kitchen.
Chikkamma was about to reprimand me for not washing my hands and feet in the bathroom and freshening up properly, especially with guests around, but Ammamma always scared her a tad more than she would've liked to admit. With her tightly coiled bun, her unpleated pallu that was now stuffed somewhere in her waist and the huge bindi on her forehead, she resembled Tun-tun Mausi from Chotta Bheem without the rolling pin in her hands; but beyond that, Chikkamma wouldn't dare question me in front of her about following regimes.
In a way, Ammamma was a free pass to me doing whatever I wished. Not that Chikkamma was strict, but Ammamma gave me a different level of comfort and freedom, that feeling of belonging... that feeling of being bonded by blood, that feeling of not being a burden.
I sat crosslegged at one corner in the kitchen, eating traditional garlic-less onion-less South Indian food with my hands that was more aromatic and jampacked with flavour than anyone could expect. I was teleported to a time where I had overlooked this pleasure, and taken it for granted. Today, I yearned for this.
A lady had walked in with a little girl in her arms, bending over at me. "Nandini, you remember me right, Jyothi Aunty," She introduced herself, she was one of Chikkamma's friends. I'd met her when I went on walks with Chikkamma. Feeling shy that I was eating while someone had come to talk to me, I paused, swallowing and nodding with a smile.
"Jyothi, you may carry on with these important discussions once my daughter has eaten her lunch," I knew that tone well enough to know Ammamma was irritated. Jyothi Aunty gapped at the next instance, fearing for her life. Ammamma then lowered her gaze at me, clicking her lips in disappointment. "Where are your vegetables, Nandini? Let me bring you some carrot fry and the green beans dish,"
"Look at the nerve of that woman, acting like this is her house,"
"Come on she's just protective of the girl, infact I feel for the child, she's never going to have that mayka wala feeling,"
"This woman will go over and beyond to make that happen regardless,"
"Chikkamma, where's Abhi and Rishu?"
"They're both in your Bhai's room, you know how Abhi is, hates it when we have guests over who are not his age," Somehow, being in there away from people of this sort seemed like the best idea to me. As much as they were Chikkamma's friends, I could not overlook the fact that all aunties had one prime reason to live, and that was gossip. Anywhere, everywhere. "You can eat and then go inside with them," Chikkamma said with a soft smile, that seemed quite worn out. Ammamma's orders in the kitchen must've taken a toll on her. I could imagine Chikkamma trying to make the sambar and side dishes herself for the 'guest', but Ammamma would've come around to taste it midway through, and then would have criticised it and overruled her in her own kitchen.
"No, I'll help you," I said joyfully, expecting a smile in return. Instead, she leaned over and dropped a gentle kiss over my head, rubbing it lovingly.
⭒⭒⭒
That evening, a lot of our friends and neighbours joined us. I had brought out some plastic woven mats to place around the living room. Rishu had followed with some thin blankets to place over them and cover the mats to provide some cushioning.
Ammamma had braided my freshly washed hair into a loose damp braid drawn to one side, and wrapped a wreath of jasmine around the braid. My earrings were a brassy gold, the colour of the embellishments on my lehenga, bangles a beatiful shade of magenta to match it, and my dupatta was pinned on one shoulder and wrapped around my body like a half-saree, the pallu grazing the floors as I walked around the seated guests with paper cups of tea on a tray.
Abhi was wearing a light pink kurta, the same colour as my dupatta with a green jacket that matched Rishu's kurta. In a way, we three siblings were all somehow co-ordinated in our attires. Which Ammamma noticed as beautiful.
None of Abhi's gang was here yet. Every few seconds, I found myself longingly checking at the doors, especially when I heard voices outside. A couple of times after, Ammamma caught on. I peeked a small smile, and continued serving which was becoming a little difficult with the insides of my palms sweating at the thought. Aiyappa, if she knew, I couldn't even imagine how she would take it. Besides, that was one thing I would always be too scared to inform her about. Forget her knowing, I couldn't imagine even Chikkamma who had a love marriage to ever know about it.
No way.
As guests poured in, the lamp was lit by Chikkamma, as I kept the tray back in the kitchen. Chikkamma and Chikkappa sat in the centre-front of the hall with the priest, the door facing their right. Ammamma and Rishu were a row behind, while Abhi sat against the rear wall, leaving an empty space around him. The other guests bridged the space between the entrance and our family.
If I sat next to Abhi, that was a clear-cut way for me to stay close to Manik and hang with their group. Then I thought about Ammamma, and how things would play out if she noticed us. I shook my head, shutting down whatever seed of an idea had begun to emerge. I crossed my legs beside Rishu, joining my palms in prayer, and closing my eyes as I repeated the chants after the priest.
I heard footsteps behind me, and some ruffling before the cocktail of perfumes hit my nostrils. Manik was here. Finally.
Persisting to keep the smile away from my lips, I continued to mumble. But why hide, Nandini, if his presence alone makes you so happy?
Oh, tea for them. One excuse to see him.
I got up, my anklets chiming as I turned around. Manik's eyes were open, he was seated behind me with his hands on his knees. He was wearing a metal bangle on his right hand, along with a brown beaded bracelet. As I made note of those little things, he glanced up at me, staring at me with a look in his eyes that looked.... Almost charmed. He was wearing a white embroidered kurta, and black jeans to complete the outfit. Mukti, to his left, waved her hand as she whispered a quick 'hi' with a mischievous smile behind it. Alia was on her phone beside Mukti, while Dhruv was behind her next to Abhi, both of them closing their eyes in prayer.
As Manik's eyes stared into mine, yet again I felt that electrifying connection... that night when I first met him. I tried to ignore that trigger, and saw his palms weren't joined. I slowly brought my hands together, then raised my chin at him all while letting my blush fill my cheeks. Manik furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lip in a teasing manner, before letting his palms touch. And when they did, his whole face glowed with the happiness of a hundred, no a thousand fireflies. I felt a twinge in my chest. Aiyappa! What is he doing to me?
I was very aware at that point that Abhi or Ammamma could catch us stealing looks at any time. I escaped with a hop to finish my task as Manik's head craned in my direction. I brought out the tea tray again, with new paper cups three-quarters filled. Starting with Dhruv, I began to serve each of them who reciprocated a small smile as they received their cup. By the time I reached Manik, the awe or admiration he once held was no longer there.
What replaced it was a cold fury of some sort, as he picked a cup avoiding my gaze.
The rest of the pooja no longer felt peaceful and serene as it should have. I was running all the permutations and combinations in my mind for what could have transpired between the two instances, between when I made him smile so brightly to now... his grumpy demeanor but came up with nothing. Mukti was her same cheerful self, Alia and Dhruv were quite fine, and Abhi... Abhi was deep in prayer.
What had I done?
At the end of the pooja, when it was time to bring out the food, Ammamma had tasked me with bringing out the payasam from the slow-burner in the balcony. I lifelessly stirred the payasam once, ladled it into small biodegradable leaf bowls and placed each bowl on a tray nearby in a mechanical manner, my brain numb from everything. A breeze blew, cutting the flame under the slow-burner, taking away the last bit of light left under the shamiana.
Another gust of wind came by, yanking some baby hair over my face. I put the ladle into the pot to free one hand when warm fingers danced around my temple, pulling it away and gently tucking it behind my ear. Manik. My eyes raised to meet his, as he leaned back on the rails, doting on me with the most enchanted trance. His index finger drew a line down my ear, on my exposed neck, lingering to gently meet my upper arm before he wrapped all five of them around my elbow, pulling me to him in a swift gesture.
My hand fell on his chest, spacing us sufficiently apart. I should have been scared. It should have occurred to me that this was my house, my balcony, on a night where a bunch of guests and neighbours had filled our home. Anyone could spot us. But I couldn't think clearly. Couldn't think at all.
Manik observed the kohl along my waterline, my eyeliner that was winged, my black tiny bindi that was placed between my brows, and then my glossy lips tinted with a gentle shade of plum. Manik's thumb went to my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his again. This time, I saw what was coming. No. I was supposed to take things slow. That was what I promised myself. As much as I wanted it... I had to stop it. But why... why do you want to stop it, Nandini? Lowering his head, he covered some space between us. Because he was angry at you before this.
"What did I do?" I asked, doing anything possible to keep my eyes open, even though meeting his gaze was proving to become very difficult in this instance. What if I hadn't stopped him? Would he have...? Would I have then gotten my answer? Still stunned in my place at what had almost transpired, I waited patiently.
Manik blurted quickly, "Dhruv... why did you serve him tea? Tea was our thing,"
"Manik, I served everyone tea this evening, and what do you mean 'our' thing? We only had tea once together,"
His grip on my elbow tightened. "I don't know, I don't like it..." He grunted, looking sideways at the extra tile bits in one corner with the same fury I saw earlier that night. Was he going to break it on someone? Then shutting his eyes to regain his composure, he took a long breath. "I... don't like the way he smiled at you,"
A few moments passed as I let the words, the intonation and the several meanings behind it seep in, watching the turmoil within him erupt in invisible ways. He was this way with Aryamann that day when he ripped my Biology assignment up as well.
"Nandini!"
I broke myself free from his hold on my elbow in a startle. His nails had formed small moons on the skin it claimed, inflaming it. I subconsciously rubbed that lost warmth back when his eyes drifted there, his eyebrows relaxing as his gaze softened at the marks. He looked at both his empty hands in vain, before clenching them into fists as his sides as he threw his head back, sinking into dim light as a sparkle of fireflies surrounded the vicinity.
I grabbed the half-filled tray to distract myself from the unvanishing moment etched into my memory forever. That anger... I had never seen that kind of anger before, in anyone. And I was somehow not afraid, it felt... good to see him show emotion, healthy to see him express it. Instead, in that spick of a moment, I was drawn to him, had closed the space between us, had wanted to claim his lips and soothe his troubles... If Chikkamma hadn't called me, I would have kissed him, in my house, without caring for a moment that so many people from the locality were home. My Ammamma was home.
Tears filled my eyes. What was happening to me, why was I feeling betrayed by my own actions? Why was I losing control over myself when I was around him? This is dangerous for me, for my promise.
I crossed over the threshold, into the safe confines of my home, leaving a torn Manik on those rails.
⭒⭒⭒
Alia
I spun around in the balcony, peeling the phone off my ear. "We got the green light," I squealed, running into an approaching Varun with open arms. He quickly lifted me off the ground, twirling me in his jolly embrace. It didn't occur to me that we were at his parents' place, and they were eating dinner right in front of us.
Being with him, I understood why it never worked with anyone else. He is the first man in my life who has celebrated my happiness with me, and also sunk my sorrows with me in his arms. Even with his conservative family, their initial disapproval of me was based on my vibes, my parents' divorce, my apprehension to marriage, and the wealth from my family trust fund, to name a few. Instead of fighting with them or dumping me, he created countless opportunities for us to meet and interact with each other. Now it's been a couple of years of us dating, and I've not only left an imprint on them, but they've accepted me informally as part of their family. Unconditionally.
But they were also now unconditionally eyeing us, and trying to decipher what this joy meant.
"Mummy-Papa dekh rahe hai," I whispered, tapping his shoulder to put me down.
"Mummy, hum Lonavala jaa rahe hai aaj raat," Varun informed in a declaration as my feet grazed the floor. A chat followed through with Varun filling in the blanks for them, they chimed in with suggestions as to what to visit while there. I clung to him modestly, very delighted.
All my life, that's all I've wanted, to have someone by my side unconditionally... to support me always, to replace the lack of a present father and brother. My school friends were once that, until that too became tainted by the curses of those who swore to break us.
I still remember the fury in their glares as they fought head to head with each other in the Musicana competition that happened in the final year of our schooling. Everyone said life changes after school, people change, personalities change... our gang saw all shades of it. Envy, greed, heartbreak, what not.
As much as I hated what destiny did to me, my friend group and my strength, I sympathised more for my brother, who put everything pure in his life on the line just for the sake of some petty revenge. Me, Mukti, and Manik, while also destroying himself in the process.
We headed into Varun's childhood room to pack his belongings. "Although I'm happy about this, I... can I be honest with you?" His fingers searched for mine, interlocking them. I lifted his chin and nodded gently, urging him to continue. He drifted into his thoughts, rubbing my clasped palm with his free hand. "I don't think it's a good idea. Baar baar ussi cheez ka yaad dilaane se things are not going to get better,"
I knew where he was coming from. Varun on multiple occasions was a spectator to my breakdowns, especially in the earlier stages of our relationship when I was avoidant of any signals from his end, dismissing them as nothing because who could ever have feelings for me? When past rehashed into present, smearing new experiences with its ugly mark.
I also knew having him there, having his support, his unconditional care was my strength at that time. I needed to face my past, open up to someone, get over it and move on in a healthy manner; slowly, day by day, he helped me build trust in him by just being present. And that trust... gave me growth that changed me for the better. Manik needs that too.
"He needs to confront it at some point, baby, and this time when he does, he won't be alone,"
"Maybe he doesn't want you guys, or your help," He added uncomfortably, feeling bitter about disagreeing with me.
Manik needs us. Otherwise his ego would not let him come on this trip.
I curled his bicep, leaning on it. "Friends don't ask each other for help, they just do,"
⭒
I've already penned down two scenes of the next chapter! Can you guys believe, it's been less than a month of MaNan's relationship in this story? There's still 8 more months (if I remember the TL correctly :P ) of this, and it is just going to get better and better <3
(Ignore Nandini's irritation, I'm literally as hyped as Manik)
Please keep your votes and comments going, it makes me feel supported and excited to continue writing through writer's block. Lots of love!