I finished chapter no. 2 - another long one. They keep getting longer and longer 😆 And this time, it's Kabir's pov. The chapter all in all turned out... a bit strange, I believe. It wasn't planned to by like this (the beginning) but somehow, Kabir developed his own mind and... you can read the result^^
Thanks to everyone who has left me little comment and also to those, who have liked the beginning ;) The story's just building up, there's much masala to be added to the mix in due time!
I'll send out pms to those who asked me to do it, sorry if I accidentally forget someone or the pm comes in later 😳 By the way, I think it's easier for me to send out pms if you guys add me to your friends-list - just let me know that you want to receive pms and add me 😆
02
"I really don't think that this is such a good idea."
"Well, then it's good that no one asked you for your opinion, isn't it?"
"Actually-"
Kabir felt something hit his legs and the next moment, he found himself losing his balance and skidding over the asphalt, his bag slipping from his grip. His forearms burnt hotly as they rubbed over the floor and stinging pain shot through his temple upon the collision. Shit. Groaning painfully, he carefully pushed himself up - and hit the back of his head against something solid.
"Wait, that wasn't the plan! Bhaiyya, careful!"
"What plan?" he hissed through gritted teeth as he lifted his throbbing head and looked toward the direction he had heard Nisha's voice come from. Brown and white filled his vision and instinctively, he raised his arms in protection- but whatever it was hit him, nonetheless. Eggs. "What the hell?!"
"Now, that's a very pitiable sight."
Even though, he was hurting and the spike of irritation that shot through him was impossible to ignore, Kabir forced a half-grin to his lips as he stared up at Nisha and her cousin who had come to their aid with the money. What was her name? Kirti? "Oh, really? How'd you guess that?"
Behind Nisha, a guy peeked sheepishly over her shoulder. "Sorry about that," he said. "I didn't mean to trip you. Or trip myself, for that matter, and have the eggs... well."
Trip? Kabir examined his arms, the skin was raw and even broken here and there, he was pretty sure that blood was trickling down his right cheek and his head felt as if it would split at any moment. Not to forget the disgusting egg-mess he was covered in. "I think you meant to say Sorry, I didn't mean to break you into thousands of pieces'." Trip... seriously, it was more like the dude tried to break his leg! And what did he trip on, anyway? His own two feet?
"That does look rather bad," Nisha muttered hesitantly before she knelt down next to him and reached for his left arm. "Don't be angry, I was only considering to have Umesh Bhaiyya throw the eggs. But why couldn't you look out where you were going?"
"I'm sorry that I have enough manners to pay attention to the girl I was talking to," he retorted sarcastically. "And why did you want to shower me with eggs? I thought I was crazy!"
"You are, you idiot." He hissed when Nisha pressed down on a very tender area, though the girl herself only grimaced guiltily- no apology, whatsoever. "Besides, you admitted that you have nowhere to stay at."
"And that's reason enough to murder me?"
Nisha let go of his arm abruptly and glared at him. Could she do anything else? Or was it just him that made her so grumpy? "Can't you be serious for a second? You don't have any money, where will you sleep tonight?"
Kabir glanced around the darkened street, the only light coming from the restaurant they had just left, as if the answer to that question would bounce around the next corner. Which it obviously didn't. "Under a bridge?"
"You, Kabir, are a complete idiot."
Well, that was true. To be honest, he still couldn't believe that he had run out of money. For God's sake, it hadn't even been two whole weeks since he had been on his own! Talk about incompetence... But then again, how could he have known that hotels and decent meals or even the most necessary things to survive such as groceries could be this expensive? How hard it could be to portion his money wisely? Or how difficult it was to get a job even if a pastime one? It wasn't like he had ever needed to worry about these kind of things before.
And what he had had left of his money, mainly his credit card, drowned down that stupid lake alongside his wallet when he had slipped on a particularly muddy spot... Maybe he should have dived in to see if he could find it. He probably would have, if he hadn't noticed Nisha at the other side, furiously throwing pebbles into the water.
Not that it had been any of his business but- he couldn't explain it. There had been something about Nisha, about that girl who was standing all alone at the lake while darkness was slowly spreading through the sky, about the way she had been quivering from head to toe, about the tears glistening in her eyes yet refusing to fall, about the raw, pained expression contorting her features...
For a moment, Kabir had been tempted to take out his camera and snap some photos. To capture this image of pure emotions. But he didn't, couldn't do it with a good conscious since it would be nothing short of violating another human being's privacy. He had felt bad enough for witnessing such a private moment - and yet, couldn't help but go up to her. Unable to leave her there all alone.
You care too much, even for complete strangers, his brother always used to scold him. One day, it will lead you into great trouble and I might not always be there to get you out of it.
Kabir had laughed that last comment off, he remembered it vividly. He hadn't believed that such a day would ever come when his brother wouldn't be there - but look at him, now. Though, he still had to determine whether Nisha was trouble or not.
"Kabir!" Nisha snapped her fingers in front of Kabir's face, making him flinch in surprise. "You didn't hit your head too hard, did you?"
"My head's harder than any stone," he said lightly and with it, shook off the last remnants of his thoughts. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten! You're not that old, yet."
And there it was, Nisha's lovely glare that she apparently reserved only for him. He felt so treasured!
"Okay, guys, this is-" Kirti eyed them both warily. "Nishu, what's going on? Who's your friend and what's up with the eggs?"
"They were the last ones we had," the guy, Umesh, added remorsefully.
"Wow, just my luck," Kabir muttered. He didn't even like eggs that much.
Nisha stood up and held her hands out for Kabir which he used to get himself up without slipping. "Well, that's Kabir. I accidentally hit him with a stone and he kind of tried to help me, so-"
"You hit him and he helps you?" Kirti interrupted her incredulously. "Why?"
Kabir shrugged. "Because I'm awesome?"
"Anyway," Nisha continued impatiently. "Kabir doesn't have any money on him nor a roof over his head, so I thought we could help him. He could stay with us for a bit, maybe."
Kirti and Umesh exchanged uneasy looks, further intensifying the doubts Kabir had felt ever since Nisha had first made that offer. Not that he was someone who would just let such an opportunity go to waste but... the sudden offer did make him suspicious. Nisha didn't seem to like him much, she insisted that they were complete strangers - and yet, suggested such a thing.
Something was very fishy.
"Nishu!" Kirti grabbed Nisha's forearm and pulled her closer to herself. "Are you out of your mind? Dadaji will be furious!"
"I know," Nisha whispered back. "That's why I came up with the eggs and maybe a little make-up to fake wounds." Glancing back at Kabir, she added, "That's not necessary, anymore." Really? "I will tell dadaji that it was my fault and that he has nowhere to go, so he could stay with us till he's better."
"Do you even know that guy? He could be a mass-murderer!"
"Please, Kirti! The only things he's probably ever killed are his own brain cells."
"Uh." Kabir stepped between the cousins, smiling sweetly at them. Kirti took a step to the side, crinkling her nose. Thank you very much. "You do realize that I can hear you, don't you? And just to mention it: I still don't think that this is such a good idea."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Nisha tilted her head and watched him carefully. "If you don't want to, I won't force you. I just wanted to be nice."
"To me?" he chuckled, surprised. "Why?"
"Because... well." She made a weird gesture with her hand, obviously not knowing what exactly she wanted to say. "You wanted to help me, first. Cheer me up."
Challengingly, Kabir raised an eyebrow. "And you hated me for it."
"I was irritated, okay?" she clarified. "But it's just a suggestion. If you'd prefer to sleep on the streets where anything could happen, that's your choice."
Streets?
Kabir felt an icy coldness spread through his chest. Once again, he surveyed the dark streets; he could swear that here and there shadows were moving. Kabir wasn't bothered by the darkness itself, it was something he was familiar with - but comfortable only in his own home. People felt suffocated in their houses, they went out for fresh air, even at night they liked the freedom of outside- not Kabir.
He hadn't thought about his living arrangements now that he was broke but as soon as he paid attention to this fact... The air in his lungs turned dry.
"Kabir, don't you really have anywhere to stay at?"
Turning his focus on Umesh, Kabir shrugged. Not really. His brother did have a house in this city though, he wasn't living there, at the moment, at least not that Kabir was aware of it, which didn't have to mean much. But he wouldn't have turned up there or back at the door of his grandfather, anyway. Not this soon.
"You know," Umesh continued softly. "Maybe Nisha isn't wrong. And, err, I did hurt you- that should be looked after."
Instinctively, Kabir touched his temple. It was still wet.
"Let him be, bhaiyya," Nisha intervened and indicated the car that was parked down the street. It was dark, Kabir hadn't noticed it earlier. "If he doesn't want to... It's late, anyway."
"Yah," Kirti agreed quickly and even started to walk down, pulling Umesh with her. "Let's go."
Biting down on his tongue, Kabir frowned thoughtfully. One thing was clear: He couldn't stay out here. And... at least, Umesh's concern seemed to be genuine. Nisha herself wasn't a bad girl, either- that was what his gut feeling told him and it had seldom disappointed him.
"You guys could be the mass-murderers," he said when Nisha was about to walk past him. "We're basically strangers, after all."
She stopped, theirs arms almost touching, and smiled teasingly at him. "There are no strangers, only friends we haven't yet met."
Kabir grinned. "Not bad. You learn fast!"
###
"Your father doesn't need my permission to do anything, why would you?"
Yeah. Kabir knew why it had been a mistake to accept Nisha's offer - and why her cousins had seemed to be wary of their grandfather. That man looked like strictness and ego both personified. And he had thought his grandfather was a piece of art. Maybe he should introduce them both... Urgh, no. He shook his head to get that horrible mental picture out of it.
"But dadaji, look at him!" Nisha insisted and indicated with her arms towards Kabir's body. "This is my fault. He needs treatment and a shower, asap and besides... he really doesn't have anywhere to stay at."
Nisha said dadaji look' but that was apparently a synonym for everyone to look. Kabir smiled into the round, even waved nicely. He felt like a rare animal in a zoo.
Seriously, he had never seen such a big family. Grandparents, more cousins or siblings, he had no idea, than the both who had picked them up- two boys and another girl; and elderly people of whom two would be probably Nisha's parents. He assumed it was the pair standing on the veranda instead of coming down into the hall- they both had lowered their gazes in dejection when the old man mentioned Nisha's father.
"Bauji," cued in Nisha's probable father, though he sounded hesitant. "Nishu is right, we should at least take care of his wounds." Wounds... they talked as if he had been shot multiple times. He didn't look that bad, did he? "And if he really has nowhere to go to..."
"Ramesh, this is not a shelter for the homeless," the old man said sternly. "You couldn't afford it with your useless music, anyway." Ramesh stepped back as if being hit physically. Dadaji didn't even blink. "But Nisha has already made up her mind, so why ask me? You and your family obviously never need my permission."
"Dadaji, that's-"
Dadaji raised his hand in warning and thus, shut Nisha up mid-sentence. He folded the newspaper he had been reading and stood up to leave, arms crossed behind his back. The old lady, presumably dadiji, sent an encouraging smile towards Nisha before following her husband.
Kabir might not be the most sensible person on this earth but even he understood that something not so good had just happened. The silence that hung over them was tensed and how the remaining family members exchanged glanced had him more nervous. Damn, what had he gotten himself into? He was an idiot.
Stop poking your nose in other people's business, Viraj always warned him. Just because you want to do something good doesn't mean you'll receive goodness in return.
Why couldn't he ever listen?
"Lakshmi," the uncomfortable silence was broken by a fancy-looking woman who was standing next to Kirti and glaring at Nisha's mother. "Seems like your daughter is planning the next catastrophe. Do everyone a favor and keep us out of it, alright?"
Had there been aloofness engulfing the rest of the family, now there awoke a plethora of different emotions- indignation in the young ones, irritation for others and a mix of exasperation and silent agreement in the rest, mainly the three other elder people. But at least, they dispersed now one by one, leaving behind only Nisha's parents and the cousins/siblings.
Not only a big family, a slightly dysfunctional one, too. Great.
"Nishu," Ramesh said. "Show Kabir the bathroom, alright? He needs a good shower." He even sent a small smile in Kabir's direction - yes, he definitely would like Ramesh. Maybe his stay wouldn't be that horrible.
"I... I'll prepare a glass of milk with turmeric for him," Lakshmi added hastily before turning around and walking down the veranda.
"C'mon!" Nisha grabbed his elbow, apparently ignoring the fact that it was covered in yolk, and pulled him toward the stair. He quickly grabbed his bag and stumbled after her, suppressing the urge to cringe at the gazes he could feel burning in his back.
"I love your dadaji," he mock-whispered to Nisha. "He's such a sweet man! Ah!" Hissing in pain, Kabir pulled his elbow out of Nisha's grip and rubbed over the area she had squeezed. How ruthless.
"Now, you know where I got my sweetness from," she smiled.
###
"At least, you remembered to bring enough clothes with you."
Kabir swallowed the sarcastic reply he had on his tongue in favor of pressing his lips together so he wouldn't make any sound - which was hard since Nisha had no qualms whatsoever to press down painfully on his wounds in order to cleanse them. His arms hadn't been that bad, mainly because he had tended to them himself, but his temple throbbed like hundreds of tiny needles were pricking into it.
And Nisha was way too close - he could even see the specks in her eyes and probably count her lashes, if he had been interested to do so. He himself always invaded people's personal space, it was a habit, but he wasn't comfortable with others doing it.
"What?" Nisha asked, puzzled, and leaned back a little while she got a plaster out of her first-aid kit. "Did you lose your voice in the shower?"
Taking the plaster from her, Kabir looked past her to the little mirror hanging on the wall next to the door and put it on. "You wish. But, uh, thanks. For letting me stay."
Nisha shrugged as if not knowing how to reply and instead, smiled mischievously at him. "You look worse than your condition really is," she chuckled and pointed toward his bandaged arms. "One might think I hit you with a car and not a stone."
"I look like a half-mummy," he agreed amusedly. Maybe the bandages were too much... "And one might also think that you planned all this."
The smile on Nisha's lips faltered, replaced by a troubled frown. "Eh, why-why would I do that?"
Kabir let himself fall back on the soft mattress and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly. The shower did him good, for sure. "I just think it's strange that first, you can't stand me and then, all of a sudden, you insist that I stay at your house until I'm better- which is ridiculous cause I'm fine." More or less. "Makes me wonder whether you wanted your cousin to trip me intentionally or something."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, almost softly, Nisha said, "I didn't want to hurt you. And I... couldn't leave you to sleep on the streets."
"So, is it a hobby of yours to pick up random homeless guys from the streets?"
"Is it a hobby of yours to try and cheer up random, strange girls that hit you with stones? Because, otherwise, homeless guys have never approached me."
"Touch." Turning on his side and resting his elbow on the mattress, Kabir watched Nisha carefully. She was a bit tensed. "So, your father's a musician?"
Furrowing her brows in confusion, Nisha blinked at him. "What?"
"No, I was just wondering," he went on, ignoring her puzzlement upon the sudden change of topic. "If he's a musician, how come you have such a terrible voice? It really hurts here." He tipped against his forehead.
"Really? Does it?" Nisha grinned - and kicked his shin, hard. Shit! Kabir sat upright within seconds and bent over, clutching his poor leg. Two times a day. That was inhuman. "And your whole presence hurts me!"
"Well, you wanted to have me around," he retorted through gritted teeth. "I know that if your heart's been broken, you want to move on - but aren't you going a little too fast? We don't even know each other!"
Obviously irritated, Nisha pushed against his shoulder. "What's with you and insisting my heart was broken?"
"It's the most-"
"Nishu." The older one of the guys he had seen downstairs was standing in the door, an annoyed expression on his face. It reminded him of someone... "If you're finished here, we need to talk."
"How rude," Kabir said, pouting playfully. "Never heard of knocking? We could have been doing anything in here!"
The guy's face darkened even further as he stepped into the room, hands closed to tight fists. "What? What was that? You-!"
"Sukku!" Nisha jumped between them, pointing warningly at Sukku. "Stop it."
"But Nishu!" he complained. "He's-"
"An idiot," she completed for him. "I know. Ignore him, it's better for your health."
"Easier said than done," Kabir threw in teasingly. "I've just such an amazing presence - no one can ignore me."
"Whatever. Let's go." She grabbed Sukku's arm and pushed him back toward the door.
"Bye, Sukku!" Kabir called after them.
"It's just Suketu for you!" was the clipped reply.
"Okay, bye, just Suketu!"
"Nisha, I swear I'll-"
"I know, I know!" Looking back at Kabir over her shoulder, Nisha said, "Drink that milk over there." She pointed at the nightstand table where indeed, someone had placed a glass of milk for him. "Oh, and your phone's been blinking for a while now!"
Surprised, Kabir looked around until he located his phone at the far end of the bed and barely noticed when the door was shut closed. Had he discarded his phone over there? Frowning thoughtfully, he reached for it.
Three missed calls.
One new message.
He clicked on the message.
Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there anymore*. Mind coming back, already? Not to dadaji's, back home. This has gone on long enough, Kabir. - V.'
Hesitantly, Kabir chose the reply option. The lightness he had felt just seconds before had vanished completely as if it had been only his imagination and instead, there was a heavy weight pushing down on his shoulders. He really hated it to refuse anything his brother requested but... Not yet.
He didn't know what exactly it was he was hoping to achieve from this little journey but people seldom knew with certainty what they were looking for when they set out on a search for themselves. And if he returned this early, not only admitting defeat but his own incompetence to handle himself alone, he would humiliate himself for the rest of his life. Viraj wouldn't see anything wrong with it, he would probably be just glad that Kabir had returned alive but other people wouldn't miss this chance to add insult to injury. As they always seemed to do.
He could step out of that haven of comfort and security his brother had built around him over the years and do something on his own. He could stop being a burden on Viraj.
Taking a deep breath, Kabir laid down and typed a reply. Writing was much easier than speaking - if they talked on the phone, Viraj would persuade him to return without any real effort, he was sure of that.
Sorry, bhaiyya. Not yet. But hey - I'm still living ;)'
The milk had gone cold by now. He didn't like milk with turmeric that much, anyway.
____
* quote from Robin Hobb, Fool's Fate
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