M A N I K :
There are 7 deadly sins and you surely stumble upon the fourth circle of hell the moment you've tasted each of them.
1. P r i d e
2. L u s t
3. E n v y
4. G u i l t
5. G l u t t o n y
6. S l o t h, and
7. W r a t h
And, I'm pretty much sure I've humanised each one of them.
Sure, I heard the dark sky grumble as I set my foot out the backseat of my car and a bodyguard rushed to save me from tripping over. It sure was going to rain and flood the city soon. But what more ridiculous was for a seventeen year old lad to afford three bodyguards which might cost one middle class man a lifetime's savings to indulge in such a thing but being the son of a filthy rich actor and soon to be Home Minister, I hardly doubt the expenses were even accounted.
I gave the bodyguard a sharp vexed glare without trying to ease my clenched jaw, "Get your poverty-stricken hand off my body." I chewed the words out through my gritted teeth and it took him a second to step away.
Seconds later, I stumbled again on the clean concreted street that led me and I took pride in the fact that I was insanely intoxicated for this situation. Putting my sunglasses on, I dashed a cigarette in between my lips making sure I carried the silvery container of benzos in my pocket; the one dose of which I very much needed to tolerate all that would be happening before my eyes.
My unsteady steps made no effort in becoming socially sober as I encouraged all sorts of whispers on those vile lips that casted me as the protagonist. An antagonist, to be correct. So called men and women of higher ranking dressed in their black outfits with talks of sympathy and expensive makeup raping their faces found me arriving in my creased dark blue outfit which was of no match to their big-budgeted designed apparels. It reminded me of the game 'Chinese Whisper' where we utter a word and it travels the path of several ears and ultimately, when revealed, it's totally something improvised. Rumours are a perfect example of one such game with the only difference being when it came to me, they were all true.
Everyone could hear the sky roar outside and it was giving a feeling of ten in the night at four in the evening. Everything was darker and getting darker just like my soul and thought process. But one thing for sure, even the roaring skies couldn't deafen the pricking whispers about me and they died the second I casted my glance upon them through my concealed eyes.
"God, Manik has really showed up!"
"I know.. Doesn't he have a little bit of shame in his body?"
"But you can't deny that he's looking so smoking hot."
"But, wasn't Manik arrested?"
"Yes Mrs.Dixit, he was but when you have a father who has the entire town wrapped around his finger, you can hardly expect his son to rot in jail no matter how monstrous he is."
....
"Hailey, stop drooling over that criminal!"
....
"..yes, I told you about that right? But you know Mr.Malhotra's elder son is really a pure blessing. He is everything that Manik is not."
"I'm glad that in this difficult period, Mr.Malhotra has Aryaman to lean on."
Whispers from various corners reached my ears while I was dawdling keeping my head and insanity low frequently dragging the smoke inside.
"He's so unblemished by everything, isn't it? I even bet he has a heart."
....
"Manik is going to make his debut soon but it's all stuck up due to his criminal charges. I wonder if the producer still wishes to waste more money on him."
...
"Yes, that evening right! How can he show up like this at his own mother's funeral?"
"Yes Topaz, his behaviour is really triggering my doubt now if he has really killed his mother and whether all these charges pressed against him by his brother are true."
...
"I once wanted to give Manik a break and I proposed the same to his father as well but seeing the mess in the name of human being he is, I don't want my money go down the gutter. I pity Mr.Arora who's money is at stake now."
....
"In the official statement even nothing was disclosed as to what he was doing when the house was burning down in flames."
"Oh hush, he's looking our way."
Pouting my lips cutely, I dallied digging hands in my pockets towards the lady and her back stiffened although she inhaled deeply. Mrs.Kapoor looked around trying to look for her husband while I was cornering her against a wall. One thing was for sure, no matter how much of perfumes I could use, my breath would always taste of alcohol giving a menace about the way I looked with hair like a nest and growing stubble making me look like a bad news. She was pressed against the wall with a hitched breath without me laying a finger on her yet.
"Manik, we know it's a hard time for you..." I shushed a socialite who tried consoling me just in order to rescue her acquaintance who by now was hyperventilating but what did I do? I just smirked at her through my tinted sunglasses standing illicitly close to her skin. It's my mother's funeral and I bloody have every right to lose my shit.
"It's Tiffany, isn't it?" She gasped when I wrapped her 12 carat diamond necklace around my index finger appreciating its dazzles.
"M...Manik.." she was so terrorised. God, was it my face?
"My mother loved it. I'm sure she'll bless you for wearing her favourite necklace on her funeral." I dropped it on her neck and the quick touch with the platinum chain made her skin shiver with goosebumps.
"Do you want to know where I was when my mother was burning to death?" I smirked little brutish this time. "Do you really want to know?" I slid the glass of martini out of her trembling hand and took a sip from it.
Kapoor had no choice since the decision of hearing wasn't hers. I control lives. I control people and that's how I am. Finishing the last ounce of martini holding the glass upside down, I leaned over inhaling her pricey perfume to diminish the pungent smell of the liquor. This sure gave rise to more and more murmurs regarding my outrageous behaviour but what could anybody do? There are 7 sins under this sky and today, I chose wrath.
"When my mother was burning alive, I was fucking your daughter." I heard the entire hall gasp and fall silent excluding the too-hot-to-be-a-mother Mrs.Kapoor who dug holes into my eyes by the way she glared.
I chuckled, "I was so lost in the way your daughter was moaning my name on my crumbled bedsheet that the screams of my dying mother didn't even reach me." I smirked. "How's Crystal doing by the way? Didn't get to meet her amidst all these police-house-house-custody-custody-Court-Court-house drama. Does she miss me? Oh let me rephrase it, does she miss the way I made her feel? Of course she does, doesn't she?" I laughed to myself.
"You deserve no sympathy on this earth, Manik Malhotra. Whatsoever. You deserve everything bad happening to you. It's your mother's funeral who you claimed to love more than in your life! No wonder why during her lifetime she kept worrying about you so much." Mrs.Kapoor screamed right to my face and I hissed rubbing my ears for her shrill tone was too powerful for my drunken head.
"Right. It's my mother's funeral and I shouldn't be talking about sleeping with your girl here unless..." I measured her up from head to toe "..you give me something else to talk about." I snickered. "But one thing for sure, Crystal has this mole just below her neckline, you know, that drives me crazy. I wonder if she has got these traits from her mother. Damn, why didn't I meet you before I fu.."
My face sharply turned the other way with my sunglasses toppling over the ground revealing my bloodshot eyes. With my tongue, I could taste the metallic tang of my own blood rolling down the corner of my lips. Laughing to myself, I wiped it out with the back of my hand and more laughter broke open my lips as I realised I just have got punched by a very fuming Aryaman digging holes at me.
"That was a good one, bro-tha." I hissed fixing my jawline.
"Dad couldn't keep his word." He huffed watching me smile cheekily.
"Point is, has he ever?" Aryaman grumped all the more hearing me sneer at my own statement.
I stretched my arms like I woke up from several years of sleep when in reality sleep was the only thing missing from my life apart from Mum in the last few days. Last few days have been a torment.
"It's Alexander McQueen, isn't it?" I touched the fibre of his suit rubbing his sleeve with my thumb. "Fits you well." I nodded to myself while he shrugged his hand away in disgust.
"Don't you dare create a scene on my mother's funeral today, Manik. I can promise you the consequences are going to be blood-curdling." He warned with his index finger.
My mother's funeral.
My.
My.
His.
"What?" I asked dramatically. "What am I doing even? These people have come here putting in so much of efforts in getting dressed and presentable and they expect a lot from this funeral. It would be bad to send them empty-handed which we Malhotras never do and that's why I'm just feeding them with what they have the greed for most. Controversy, brother! Let's give them something to talk about for the rest of this week!"
"You've lost it, Manik. You've gone mad in shock so just get lost before you embarrass us any further." Aryaman whispered through his gritted teeth; his death glare making me laugh all the more.
"Ohhh." I rolled my lips in an o. "And, they'll start to think that we are a perfectly happy family who're just trying to get over their oh-so-grave-loss?" I added many touches of drama. "Will they start to think that our family was never dysfunctional? Will they start to believe that mum spent her limited life being happy?" Whispers started doing rounds and Aryaman glanced over the hall.
"Will they start believing that Dad was never cheating on 'your mother'? That, I am a perfectly normal teenager who knows nothing other than abusing women and drugging himself. That, you.. well you, my boy, are of no use to them." I slapped his chest while he kept sternly staring. "They won't love you as much as they do me. Because you're a fucking saint and everything.." I spread my arms throwing my head back. "Everything that Mr.Aryaman Perfect Malhotra does under this sky is right. Oh so right." I laughed closing my eyes.
"So Aryaman, let me own up to my reputation in their eyes. Don't worry, they won't say a single ill word about you because the legitimate receiver is right before your eyes." I bowed down but a strong grip looped around my elbow starting to drag me the other way.
"Get off me, you fucker!" I freed my arm not realising I pushed my father against the wall to whom his perfect son rushed without wasting a moment.
"What have you become, Manik?" Father asked, broad-eyed; as if he saw me for the first ever time.
'Sir! My Lord! My humble ticket to freedom..." I moved close to them whilst the guests around fell dead with silence watching every movement of the Malhotras. "I can't see Ruby anywhere. Where's she?" I inched high on my tippy toes trying to look for my father's secretary.
In failing to locate her, I clicked my tongue, "I'm sure she must be around or already has gone to preorder you two's wedding card, hasn't she? It's the perfect time to introduce her officially! Don't worry mum's funeral's memory will be soon blurred in people's mind because you'll give them something bigger to talk about. Your wedding, Dad!" I squeezed his shoulders as he looked at me with utmost sympathy.
"Dad, why don't you ask him to leave? I'm calling the guards!" Aryaman hissed while I stood staring into my father's eyes as we, the father and son duo refused to give up this intense eye lock.
"Dad, you can't be serious by letting Manik stay here. He'll mess everything up and you know that. He's appeared here as nothing but savage. Mom needs to be bade goodbye in peace." My dearest brother added while my father still kept staring into my scorching eyes with overflowing pity.
"Dad, you promised me Manik won't be here and that was why I withdrew my charges." He reminded and finally, I broke the chain.
"Too sad that you did it too early, brother." I slapped some sarcasm. "Tell me when mum was buried?"
Aryaman hesitated, "Eleven" Quickly, he looked the other way. Thief.
"And, when exactly were the advocates instructed to get me out of police custody?" I flickered my vision between my father and brother when none of them could get a word.
"Don't take such stress, people. We are all family! At least, that's what we are pretending here." I stifled a laughter. "I'll make it easier for you. I was bailed out at 2 pm." A sour smile showed up on my lips.
"2 pm when my mother is already fifteen feet below the ground and when no matter how much I yearn for, I won't be seeing her ever again in this life. I was deprived of my mother's final rites. I ask you, Dad, is this fair?" I looked into his eyes like I was still that five year old boy begging his father to attend his first stage performance at school.
"I asked is this fucking fair?" Insane, I overthrew a tray full of fancy liquors the server was carrying and for the next one whole minute all the people could hear was shattering of glasses.
"Manik, it's not our fault that the Court granted your bail at the last moment. Don't you dare forget you got bailed on a bloody Sunday only and only because of Dad's endless efforts." Disgruntled, Aryaman whispered.
"And, you assholes couldn't wait?" I screamed tugging hairs from my scalp.
"She was mostly burnt, Manik." Painfully, I inhaled. "It was difficult preserving her body since we already waited for you two days while conserving her and we didn't know if you're coming." He reasoned whilst my father stood facing the marbled floor. "Let alone the fact that she's been grounded today only and only because one of her own sons." He blamed but I hardly could care.
Muddled, I took few weak steps back gulping down whiskey neat straight from the bottle whilst people around watched me like I was some silent movie arriving the climax.
"I think I failed as a father, Manik. I'm sorry. I really am for you have to go through so much this early in life." Father muttered; his shoulders sinking in defeat.
Hurt, I smiled. "After everything, all you have left to say is...sorry, Dad?" I sniffed fighting my blocked nostrils as tears threatened to gush out. No one feels sorry for Manik Malhotra. I'm not built to be pitied on.
My lips quivered, "I..I tried being a better son, Dad. I-I decided to throw away everything for mum and you but didn't realise you would throw me away this soon." I chuckled feeling my heart ache. "It's not a funeral, is it? Come on Dad, all we can see here is futures being built. Your empire strengthening up. People are discussing projects, media getting juicy stories, you networking for Aryaman's career who just have had a massive successful debut, drinks, food, gossips. Where's mum in all this?" I gazed around. "You were the greatest gift I ever had, Dad. You were my hero." He gulped the tears.
When Ruby came and stood beside my father, that was when my blood boiled. I had seen my mother die each day and night in loneliness because of this home wrecking whore and although she looks too innocent to be evil, I couldn't let myself get fooled.
"Manik, you're drunk. Leave. Please." Aryaman pointed towards the exit.
"So that Dad can take this bitch to mum's bed and fuck her brains out?" My brother covered his face and Ruby, she was my favourite who hid herself behind my father who stood accepting his defeat in raising a son right.
"Guard!" Aryaman soon barked. Wow, it must feel nice to get kicked out of your own house, doesn't it?
"All right, all right. I will." I raised hands in surrender. "But before I leave, I'd like to pay a homage to my mother since....you know." Shrugging my shoulders, I picked up another bottle of I don't know what but it's burning taste could hardly match my throat's or rather, soul's.
Swallowing and savouring the mouthful liquor, I neared my mother's photo frame staggering to my feet, swaying a little.
"Dad, he'll for sure cause a scene. The guards are her and although I hate doing this but please permit me this time." I heard Aryaman murmur in the back whereas Manik Malhotra was too nonchalant to response. Like always, bitch.
"Although mum was catholic, I can always do her last rites being the Punjabi's son I am." I twinkled looking back at my father whose face was barely readable.
Picking her photograph up, I couldn't recognise the woman captured in that fortune worthy designer outfit with matching everything and layers of makeup making her someone I never knew. My mum wasn't like that. She liked dressing up ordinarily who had lots of blemishes and freckles on the sides of her cheeks and trust me, she yet was the most beautiful woman on earth. The picture was taken on one of those high end premiere parties where she was forced to accompany my loser of a father dressing up like a clown. Here, she wasn't the mother who brought me to life; the one who was the reason of my existence and not giving up on life. She appeared so fake in the photo that I could hardly keep looking at it. Of course, my father's team had to get this edited by the best!
Quiet, I placed the photo frame down glancing over all the costliest of flowers beautified before her whereas in reality my father never bothered to make an effort in knowing what her favourite flower was. Death is funny at times.
With liquor pouring out of the bottle, I swayed the bottle watering every burning candle before her and you can guess what the people around could do or think of. That was not my mother. She was gone. Long gone and these fake people didn't deserve to make fun of her death and so I did what I had to do. Lose my shit.
Throwing few petals at her face, I guzzled some more from the bottle till the time, I started having a blurred vision but stopping was not in my plans that night. If I came there losing everything, I had to make sure I satisfied my insanity. And, people lose at least something even if that is their reputation.
From the same bottle, I cascaded the alcohol taking rounds of her photo just like a son would do to his mother. My beloved brother kept insisting my father to throw me away but all the other man could do was poorly witness his son destroy everything he built like every annihilation was my toy since childhood. Destruction gave me peace. This is where I belong to and I know, one day I'll end up destroying myself too.
Finishing few rounds, I halted unsteadily constantly quenching my thirst, "You were a wonderful mother. It was a great honour to be your son." I closed my eyes feeling all her memories play in a black and white flashback within the walls of my closed eyes.
The times she laughed, recited, combed her hair, cooked for me, fed me strawberries, scolded me, wiped my tears, ran fingers through my hairs on nights I couldn't sleep, sang over phone to keep me courageous when I was staying so far away in boarding school, the times when we played in our garden, the times she called my name, the way she cried for me every night when I suffered from pneumonia, the way she defended my every ex girlfriend, the way she slapped me when I used a girl like toy for the first ever time...the way she used to get worried when I'd return home late or I'd smoke pots and she pretended to be asleep when in reality she was dying inside, her beautiful eyes, perfect nightly thick hair, comforting arms, kisses, her presence, her... I was going to miss everything for the rest of my life. Though I knew she already was gone but I needed to free her from the shackles this undeserving world tied around her feet. You'll be missed mum, forever. Wish I could stop you or bring you back to life but I am just a human.
"I love you, mum."
Nobody could clearly realise despite their anticipation until they saw the entire table burning up with my mother's photo amidst. An absolute mayhem took place as people started rushing here and there seeing the fire only and only raging close to the ceiling. I didn't move an inch from the soon-to-be-inferno drinking from the bottle with my eyes glued to my mother's photo burning bit by bit.
Smouldering, fire licked the ceiling and a bar from above fell right close to my feet whilst I was engrossed in the shower of sparks like a fountain, plumes of black grey smoke which must devour everything in it's path, choking clouds of noxious smoke that were growing out of control. People behind coughed running aimlessly and their screams were music to my ears. Alarms rang, glasses on the windows started cracking and slowly bursting for not containing the oppressive heat anymore. I, Manik Malhotra stood there laughing and drinking from the bottle letting myself combust when drenched in sweat and tears as the surrounding was nothing but the most fearsome shade of orange. Everything roared but hot waves were like sea breezes to my burn when my eyes couldn't see anything other than the urge to finish everything once and for all.
"Manik! Manik let's go!" Someone who seemed to be sounding like my father tugged my arm when I still was busy drinking staring into the beastly power.
"Fuck, Manik have you gone mad?" Aryaman barked. "Get your shit together and come the fuck along!" He sounded panicked as both of them started hauling me hardly being able to move me an inch.
Powerless, I knelt down before the flames wanting the almighty to devour me as well.
"Manik, get up! We all will die because of you! I beg you please come with us."
"Son, we aren't leaving you here."
"Manik, you cunt, I'll beat the shit out of you if you don't get up!"
"Manik?"
"Manikkk!"
"Manik sir?"
Shuddered, I looked aside finding Murthy stand close with hands full of groceries. She turned the gas oven off observing me minutely.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
"Yeah. Why would you ask that?" Looking around, I drew a jagged breath.
"I went grocery shopping for our Christmas cookies and when I came back, I saw you perilously staring into the fire like you were reading it's language. It..it was odd. Have you been looking at it for the whole five minutes when I was absent?" Her broadened eyes tried reading me.
"No, duh. I wanted to make myself a coffee till the time you arrive because you're too poor to afford a coffeemaker." I rolled my eyes turning the oven again in order to place the closest utensil but as soon as the sparks lit up, I turned it off instantly.
She somehow appeared upset no matter how hard I try to keep certain parts to myself, she seems to be a good learner of them. She says I am the best she had ever seen but the truth still remains is, I'm also the best she'll never be able to keep. This is not my pride speaking but the reality. It is unknown to me how can anyone keep me even when I am unimaginable to my own self. I am a furious, windstruck storm of a human being, with passion bordering on madness and romanticism bordering on obsession.
My kisses are the only part of myself her lips can fathom, and her those tiny hands cannot even touch my body without her fingers staining from all the storms that rage within me. She should adore the type of men whose eyes are serene and bright as the summer days not the men like me whose tongue is vile with curse.
"Relax, I was only asking." She laughed throwing her head back while I concentrated on the creases beside her eyes and her neck, how her skin trembled caused by the laughter, how her teeth clattered but when her eyes opened, they seemed like fresh caramel melting down at the touch of my gaze. There was a particular spark in those eyes; the look I couldn't define or would dare to.
I will take the speck of honey brown from her eyes, the warmth of her skin, and the movement of her hips when she laughs and hold them closer than she pulls me, but I can't let her get fooled by the kindness in my eyes for they won't stay for long. She craves the softness of my touch but little does she know I am a multitude of miraculous tragedies dressed in art. I want to touch her soul with my solicitude and spread the deepest parts of myself over her like the tides on a coastal shore, but for sure, I cannot love her in the way her mind demands to. I am too accustomed to the idea of affection with no lasting consequence, and so I cannot possibly have enough to give without leaving her at least, partly empty. She is someone full of presence, and any absence I leave, will leave her bare.
N A N D I N I
"Hello?" Snapping fingers before his eyes, I took him out of his thoughts. I won't lie that I wasn't anxious when I returned finding him look so weirdly at the fire like he needed to get closer to it but then again, Manik Malhotra is anything but normal.
"Yea, let's see what are we baking today?" Grabbing his iPad, he started going through tutorials.
"Yes, chef." I saluted though he was too busy to glance away from the screen.
It all felt like a dream when after our day out at cemetery, I was telling him how my parents and I used to bake cookies for Christmas and how much I miss them and I can't deny but admit he stole my heart for the nth time when he proposed that we should make some cookies too. Thank heavens that Aaliya had gone to her hometown for Christmas so here, we two strangers were colonising her house for the night being.
"We should go for strawberry coconut cookies!" He exclaimed scrolling up and down the screen. Little was his excitement for the entire process of baking and more for strawberries for obvious reasons.
"No strawberry at home." Watching me curl up my lower lip, he gave me a displeased look.
"What the hell did you shop then if you don't buy strawberries?" Seeing me crease my brows, he smiled. "All right, let's see what else is there." He murmured into the screen.
Manik Malhotra is baking cookies with me! Is this even real? But I couldn't let any bewilderment show up on my face for must it have scared him.
"Um.. Cinnamon sugar roll cookies?" He lifted eyes off the screen asking me and scratching his chin.
"Cinnamon..um.. I'm not too sure if I like them." Hesitantly, I replied rubbing my nape.
"No cinnamon then. How about Apricot oatmeal?" He danced his brows.
"Next option, please?" I grinned like an idiot shrugging my shoulders.
"Bacon mint cookie?" He asked.
"Bacon in a cookie? Do they actually do it?" I asked wide-eyed whilst he measured me form head to toe.
"Butter ginger?"
"Um, I think, we should skip to the next option. What if we are missing something great?"
He exhaled.
"Blueberry yogurt?"
"It makes me feel like I am on diet.." I scooted away a little. "Next...option?"
"Banana caramel?"
"I hate bananas!" I pouted which made him press his lips irritatedly.
He took a pause getting already tired. "Peppermint jelly cookie?"
"Uh.."
"Almond raspberry?"
I coughed fanning my mouth looking at the other wall.
"Caramel pecan Snickerdoodle?" He asked running fingers through his silky maines.
"What what what?"
"Irish cream cookies?"
"It's not that I hate it but it makes me too full."
"Uh, God.." he mumbled. "Kitsilano cookie?"
He got a little cautious seeing me do nothing other than gawk him occasionally blinking my eyelids.
"What's wrong?" He frowned observing me.
"I'm too beggar of a person to even have heard of that name ever before." I pouted which made him gawk me all the more before he was back to rolling his eyes. So unusual.
"I think we should make chocolate chip cookies!" I exclaimed with a stupid grin on my face.
"Trust me, you couldn't sound any more middle class." He shook off my words being back at scrolling through the digital list.
"You sound like a mother-in-law right now." I raised my chin.
"And, you pretend like I'm asking you to select a groom. There, the list ends." He flaunted me the screen waving it before my eyes. "You know what, I am starting to think you are just wasting my time."
"All right, then umm.. let's go with almond raspberry." He ducked his head agreeing while I wore one apron handing over the other to him.
I laughed too hard when I told him that I don't have a chef's cap, he built one for me rolling a huge white paper sealing it with some adhesive and carefully placed it over my head. Sadly, when I invited him to wear one such, he stated one clown in a house is enough. Yea, whatever!
When in the large bowl, I was mixing some cream butter, sugar and extracts, he was busy pouring the ingredients as per my direction but the only pain being when he was pouring the sugar like it costed him two eyes and both of his kidneys.
"More!" I hissed. "It says 2/3rd and you are using a teaspoon only!"
I clicked my tongues after he sprinkled three of four granules, "More! Hurry this is drying up!"
"I'm doing, wait!" He frowned sprinkling fewer this time.
"Ugh!" Tapping my foot, I knocked the contents of the spoon into the bowl.
"I see so much of calories." He sulked whilst I giggled.
"Don't worry, you'll burn." When I asked him if he'd like to mix the dough, he snorted his nose.
"I'm here to volunteer." He remarked but soon I caught him dipping his finger into the can of raspberry jam and lick it smiling to himself.
"Volunteer then, come on!" I tossed a little flour towards him and he gawked the white dusts on his branded shirt.
"You can't be serious." I laughed lobbing a little ball of dough his way which he dodged without an effort. "You crazy woman!"
Since I was what he called, I tossed some more making him scoot away from me time and again. "Stop bullying me!" He chuckled brushing the excess dust off his forearm.
"Okay fine, fill up this bowl with water for me." The second I looked up at him, he was already standing with raised eyebrows. "I mean, fill it up for me, please?" I sugarcoated my tone.
"Sounds right." Slipping the bowl out of my grip, he went to the sink as I too stood near the sink by the microwave oven, preparing it for a preheat. Something crossed my mind as my eyes lit up seeing him fill up the water mindfully like it was the only job he had in this world. Manik Malhotra looking engrossed while filling up a vessel for cookies was a scene to get cracked one's ass.
"What th... stop." He was totally taken aback finding me still lingering on torturing him with the flour dust. It was not even a handful that I sprinkled his way but he pretended like it was sodium cyanide.
"This is the last time I'm warning you." He threatened while I dredged some more into the vessel he was filling up. "Have you lost your mind? It's fucking winter!"
"Yes. Hell, I have." I laughed pouring an entire cup in the water. I don't know what it was but harassing Manik Malhotra was fun at the moment even though I was wasting things.
He watched me calmly continuing my torture sometimes on his forearm, sometimes the vessel, sometimes intimidating him to throw but ending up doing nothing until I gasped at the lack of oxygen for two seconds. He hurled the water from the almost filled up vessel right to my face which surely did choke my nostrils for those ugly two seconds. Running hand through my face to clear my sight, I found him smirk triumphantly.
"I warned you!" I stared at him blankly until I started bursting into fit of giggles diminishing his pride.
"God, you girls laugh at any and everything." Cringing his nose, he got another vessel to complete the job I assigned him with since he was too serious to bake those cookies. Manik Malhotra surely the then appeared to be one of those kids who, you know, no matter how much are cajoled or fancied but won't give up studying the night before the examination.
Coming back to our task, we let the mixture sit for an hour and although I kept on blabbering things to him in that span, he hardly paid me any attention from checking his fans' tweets. So I didn't do anything other than watch and watch him till my heart explodes slumping on Aaliya's couch with the iPad being the decoy. He is not only the man I love but he is, my entire love story and everything he does or sees or feels fills up the empty pages. He floods my thoughts and wide awake dreams. I adore him to depths beyond anyone's eyes can see.
He sounded unquestionably eager when the cookies were done and much to our surprise, they appeared nice. I didn't know about him but I surely have given our team full points deducting a bit for him being the killjoy. Like a kid, when he smacked his lip seeing the hot molten raspberry jam over the bed of the cookie, I had to momentarily pause his greed by suggesting we should sit outside under the stars and of course, by the fire. Manik didn't seem too enthralled by my idea but seeing me already rush to get things arranged, he rolled his eyes in defeat.
Everything seemed perfect since starting our day from running around in the dead allies of the cemetery under the rain till playing maze tag like two kindergarten kids, we were here at Aaliya's artistry backyard sitting on a bed sheet with basket full of cookies and lattes. Manik sat gazing at the stars whilst I was trying too hard to place the wooden logs preparing our little bonfire.
"Leave, I'll do it." Soon as he offered, I stepped behind letting him do it.
It was a matter of a couple of minutes that the warmth of the fire was giving comfort to our bodies when he came and sat beside me; right next. Rubbing my hands, I welcomed the fervour from the flames into my palms but just as he found me clutching my elbows, he wrapped another warm sheet around my body. Manik feebly smiled as I thanked him but when I offered him to share it with me, he declined gingerly. Sparks flew from the bonfire up in the immediate space it got recused into and we watched the twinkling of the stars together with the orangish layers in our eyes in silence.
When I offered him the fruit of our result, he was tad bit wary to try them first."Uh, you-you try it first."
"No. You try." Seeing me insist harder, suspiciously he placed a finger on one of those deliciousness.
"Are you sure you..heated them rightly? I mean as per the tutorial?" Insulted, I stared expressionless.
"Of course, I have. Find it yourself. I cook well so don't worry." With a smile, I assured.
"Is that why you eat at the office cafeteria all the time? You only told me that once." Hiding my face in embarrassment, I tried thinking of something smart to bounce back.
"Umm but these are good, I'm sure." The smartest thing, I could think of, ladies and gentlemen.
"Okay, then.." Decisively, he picked up and nibbled a small portion.
My grin widened only if that was possible seeing him eat something I made him for the very first time until the sparks in my eyes turned into mortification when he spat it out with a disfigured expression and body ready to upchuck.
"How bad is it?" I asked timidly.
"I bloody knew it!" He spoke in between his coughs. "You can't ever be trusted if it comes to kitchen. God, did you try to kill me by putting in so much of spice in a goddamn cookie!" Uncapping the coffee mug, he drank a mouthful of it not bothering if it was hot enough to burn his tongue. God, what was happening to our romantic picnic.
"I must have got confused or misplaced ingredients." Faint-heartedly, I mewed like a cat.
"You misplaced the whole dish!" He frowned fanning before his open mouth.
"I don't deserve this treatment. If anything, not these cookies at least." He inhaled and exhaled open mouthed but seeing me laugh clapping my hands disgusted him more.
"You look so funny." I chortled not able to keep my eyes open seeing his nose get red. There's nothing more that pisses a human being more than being made fun of when the chillis are burning his everything.
"Fucking sadist." He mumbled rubbing his cheeks as if it'd lessen the degree of the burn right in the pit of his stomach.
•••
The night was only younger as we indulged ourselves into more cups of lattes, wafers and useless conversations. He still refused to share the warmth of the cloth with me and I forced him no more respecting his choice. His stupid sense of humour and narcissistic remarks were making me laugh at 2 in the night when I had to be up at 6 in the morning. Sleeping would just have been a waste of time when I was getting to live my dream wide awake. It must not have been a dream because dreams aren't these perfect. Manik Malhotra was my lucid dream. I didn't care. Nobody really cares when they are in love and hell, I so very much was in love with this crazy man. The moon seemed so alive by shining on his flawless skin and every time with less care, when he ruffled his thick hair inattentively while conversing with me, the night got a shade darker.
I dreaded the moment when he'd say that he should leave in order to get some sleep bringing an end to this night maybe because my heart still didn't get enough of him, yet. Instead, he suggested we should play some game and I stared at him without a world like I was living in my lucid dream and if waking would mean losing him tomorrow morning, then I don't regret being asleep for the rest of my life.
Manik and I were playing lego games and he already had scored a point by building what he described as a tortoise though it hardly appeared like anything but a tortoise. When it was my turn and since the time limit was only three minutes, I decided to go for a lego house. He observed my attentiveness on making the house and I couldn't place my finger on his emotion but he had eyes only and only on me. Not only platonically because sometimes he was touching the loose strand by my cheek, playing with it knowing very well what his touch was doing to my senses. He wanted me to get distracted and lose. Although I would admit, my skin was burning with his touch, I really didn't give in to his hand of trick which was a hard thing to do.
I was working on the roof of my lego house quite satisfied to myself when it actually was seeming decent enough to be called a house unlike someone's tortoise. Seconds later, I was dancing my brows victoriously when the house was almost done but then he, being the arrogant jerk he is pissed the shit out of me by pretending that he'd sneeze any moment.
"Please! Don't." Enjoining my hands, I begged until he finally nodded with mercy.
My eyes fluttered in shock seeing the house disintegrate brick by brick when he sneezed right close to the house.
"You.." I grumped balling my fists.
"I'm so sorry." He chuckled rubbing his nose knowing very well what he did. "I told you not to throw water previously."
"That was such a cheater of a trick." I rolled my eyes shoving his bicep away.
"You can never win when competing with me, Ms.Employee." He smirked.
"This game was not even yours." I answered, conflicted.
"Every damn game is mine." He smiled narcissistically.
"Tonight you ruined my house but one day, you have to build a better one for me." His face dropped and when I realised what dual meaning it carried, I looked away diverting the topic.
•~•
30 minutes later:
"What is happiness to you?" I asked him when the fire before us was dying slowly and the sky was getting lighter.
"Umm... why don't you first tell me what's happiness to you?" He reverted not knowing it won't take me a second to answer.
"This." My eyes got captivated in his hazel ones until he looked away stealing them away from me. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable but I just had been brutally honest.
"Do you ever think of happy endings?" He questioned with unreadable eyes.
"Everyone has a happy ending, if you ask me. Even a dying villain had his share of happiness." I uttered.
"I don't necessarily agree." I ducked.
"It's because the definition of happiness is so varied and we all define it in our own terms." He heard me scratching the grasses with a twig of a branch fallen off. "You too will have a happy ending, Manik." I assured squeezing his flopped muscular shoulder which made the scratching of the twig halt, completely.
His vision met mine and like those thousand other times, I was about to lose my breath the way they beheld me. "You don't know me wholly, Murthy. You still haven't figured out whether I'm a Saint or a Satan in your story so don't presume what ending I do deserve."
"You deserve everything happy and beautiful but I'd like to know what kind of ending do you see for yourself." Tilting my head, I concentrated on his face.
"My problem is, I don't see a future for myself, and when you see no future it becomes easier to see the end.I am for the moment but there is no moment for me." He looked into the fire like it was his soulmate. "I've seen scenes which my eyes shouldn't be witnessing. I've said words which my mouth shouldn't be uttering.. have heard noises which my ears shouldn't be accepting. You see, I've done actions I thought I shouldn't be doing and I know God will give me an end I must be deserving. I have lived my life like someone who is crude but will be remembered when gone or should I say, I'm a beautiful flower if you look from distance but cursed with poison in every inch of it. I'm not a friend or lover material. I'm not anything material but a damage waiting to happen. You will not realise this right now because your eyes are painted by crayons but one day, you'll know Nandini Murthy, ours.. was not a good story. That, you and me.. don't even deserve to be on the same page of a story." He smiled.
"Then why are you the only person I feel the safest with?" My heart was drowning deeper into the ocean of his love when he held my hand and gently kissed the back of my palm.
"I'm not made for a thing called forever so if you're willing to travel this path along then I promise to make this a paradise for you but my dear," he turned my hand over sliding his fingers a little too tightly through my gaps. "If you try to hold a hurricane back, you know what the opposite of a paradise is, don't you?"
When he stared into the fire, I couldn't hold myself back. "You look at the fire like you're a firefighter but in reality, anyone can see it burns you."
"Isn't that a great thing then?" The orange of the fire was dissolving into the blackness of his gorgeous orbs.
Narrator's POV:
"You've got the star dust scattered in your eyes, and galaxies in your soul. Your name is etched across the evening sky - the constellations are leading me to you." - Star Crossed.
And during the night when all other lovers were asleep, they were awake, meeting oneself in the other. She was like a cigarette to him to whom he was dangerously and unconditionally addicted. She knew that too but secretly prayed that he never burns her down to filter. Seeing her anticipate, he wished to never have pulled out of that damn package; one that was slowly killing both of them with each drag he took because when he'll be done and she'll be burnt to ashes, he'll crave it more seeing the empty package.
On the other hand. Manik was like a violent sea in Nandini's peaceful life; the reckless storm that came with no warning but she wished to stay awake every night for the rest of her life knowing very well that when the storm would end, it'll end with her.
Nandini said nothing. Her fear felt naked, hanging on her bare skin like the world's most feeble gesture, and Manik, he wore it like an omission in between the hollow of his ribs. Kids, their love was made for movie screens.
The Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport was scarcely busy as most of the airlines decided to not fly because of the worsening weather forecast. The cafeterias were consisting of few staffs who were as good as dozing except few customers who waited for their delayed flights. The lounges and waiting areas were getting to see new faces as the flight from New York landed after a delay of total four hours. Sleepiness of the night wasn't yet killed for the Sun never rises at 4 here in Mumbai. As if, the night was one of its kind and it's indifference was written in every corner of the city because perhaps the nature too predicted the arrival of something. Someone in specific.
A man in an ordinary grey suit stood holding a board close to his chest for the arrival of someone; as if the delay of which would dig a hole in the Moon. His eyes were tired yet not sleepy as he attentively scanned the faces of every flyer stepping close to the arrivals passage. There were many faces at early 4 in the morning he didn't want to see or some faces that he never was going to remember other than the face of his boss who he awaited at the gateway probably throughout the night.
There was a particular face that shone his eyes who presented himself after long tiring flight in a white jacket over a blue striped tshirt and dark blue trousers. It was early in the morning and funnily, people here in Mumbai don't even call it morning because that's the time they hit the bed but seeing the clock and seeing how the man concealed his eyes with tinted glasses gave the impression that he belonged to some celebrity status.
He waved towards his staff who lowered the board, greeting him in the most charming tone at the death of the night seeing his boss lit up a cigarette outside the airport area.
"Welcome back, Mr.Cabir Dhawan."
Making rings with the smoke, he responded in no way other than freeing his crooked vision from the veil before he stretched his muscles releasing a breath of disaster.
Squashing the filter with his branded sports shoe, his lips formed a smirk, too fresh to be evil, looking at the wide city lying ahead of him.
"Mumbai, I missed you too."