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Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki: Episode Discussion Thread - 41
A Film Doesn’t Feel Like Propaganda If You Never Pause to Notice
12.4 and 13.4 episodes
TRUTH IS OUT 14.4
The Yrkkh Gen 5 Discussions Thread
Namit Malhotra To Take Forward Brahmastra 2
Varun Will Star In Vivek Agnihotri's Operation Sindoor ?
Noyna signs off for now
Is Ek Din a magic realism romance?
Izza like the excitement when Insaw the promo that Akshu will have a panic attack! Or the day she ran and said “Isme shakarkandi hai” My mind went on an overdrive and couldn’t wait for the next moment, let alone the next day! Izza theeee sameee!!
Here you go... the last part of the SS.
Since it's too long to be made into one single post, I'm splitting it and posting it one after the other so that it will be easy for you all to read.
Hope you enjoy!!
Oh, thank you girls!! For your hashtag!! Delighted, flattered, touched and a few more adjectives thrown in for good measure.
Part Five (1)
Harshvardhan was attending a meeting. He now worked as a medical director at one of the topmost hospitals in Mumbai. A famous Bollywood star was supposed to undergo surgery the next day which meant going through every single aspect including security with a fine-tooth comb. So when his phone rang in the middle of the briefing, he darted an irritated glance at it, finger already reaching to disconnect the call. But one look at the caller id, he got up, quickly excused himself and walked out of the room to answer the call.
“Hello?” When there was nothing on the other side except shuddering breaths and silence, he barged into his cabin and closed the door. “Hello, Abhimanyu? What happened? Where are you? Are you OK?”
“I…I…” Abhimanyu was still sitting the car, parked in the same place. He wanted to call someone but didn’t know whom to call. I miss you Neel, mere bhai! He thought, blinking back his tears.
“Abhimanyu? Please beta, say something!” Harshvardhan pleaded, his fingers already reaching for his laptop to book the next flight out to Shimla.
“I-I have a son!” He shuddered out. “I have a son, papa!”
Harshvardhan collapsed into the chair that was thankfully behind him. Did Abhimanyu realize what he’d just called him, he wondered. He had been a horrible husband to Manjari and as a punishment, his son had refused to call him papa. He had been “sir” for 18 years now. And to hear him call him papa again… then the rest of the sentence sank in and he swallowed through the lump in his throat. Maybe Abhimanyu was so distraught and emotional that he didn’t realize what he was addressing him as. That had to be it.
“Abhir?” he asked, his own voice slightly hoarse.
Abhimanyu nodded. Boundless joy and an ocean of pain waging war in those once lifeless eyes. Tears threatened but he squeezed his eyes shut, forcibly locking them in. “Abhir! Abhir is my son. Mine! I always…I was always drawn to him but never stopped to wonder why. I assumed…assumed it was because he is Akshu’s kid. He is my kid. Mine!”
“The first time I saw him, Abhimanyu, he reminded me so much of you as a little kid that I suspected. But how do I ask her… I was afraid of spooking her… how did you know? Did she tell you?”
Abhimanyu sniffled, shook his head as if to clear it. “No. Tomorrow is his 5th birthday. He-he told me. J-just now. Abhir mera beta hain, papa! I’m his papa! Me!”
“What do you want to do now? Are you going to talk to her? Ask her? Tell her?”
“Mera beta,” he repeated with a watery chuckle. “Junior really is my junior. Y-you said he reminded you of me. H-how? In what way?”
Harshavardhan smiled sadly at the childlike eagerness in his son’s voice. “He has the same eyes. A little chubbier than you’d been when you were that age so not many people notice. And he talks like you. Same…woh kya bolte hain, seedhi baat, no bakwas.” Abhimanyu chuckled. “Aur woh Shiv ji ko bahut manta hain. Anand bhai saab too mentioned that when you’d met with the accident, he’d come to the hospital to put the vibudhi on you.”
“H-he did? I-I didn’t know. N-no one told me. I-I didn’t know. My son prayed for me! My son came for me to the hospital! How come I didn’t know? I should’ve known! I should’ve woken up! I should’ve talked to him, told him that I’m doing fine. That his prayers worked. He would’ve been so worried…”
“Abhimanyu, beta, relax! Meri baat suno! Sunn rahe hona tum? Abhimanyu?”
“J-ji. Sunn raha hoon.” He hugged himself the look on his face a strange mixture of pride, joy and despair.
“What will you do now? Do you want me to come there?”
“N-nahi. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do. I-I’ll call you again, OK? Until then please don’t do anything. Don’t tell this to anyone,” he added hurriedly. “Please galti se bhi kissi se kuch nahi. Promise keejiye papa.”
“I promise, beta. I promise.”
Abhimanyu ended the call and sat in the car, the back of his hand covering his mouth, the turbulence raging and tearing his insides evident in his tortured gaze.
****
“Abhir! Oh, birthday boy!” Akshara called out from the kitchen. “Taiyar hue ki nahi?”
“Coming mamma! Papa, jaldi karo na!” He began fidgeting as Abhinav tried to button up the dark purple colour cotton kurta.
“Arre kar raha hoon, Nicki ji! There you go! Arre waah! Today my son is looking like a hero ji! Happy birthday, mera bachha! Bhagwan aapko humesha aise hi khush rakhe!”
“Thank you, papa!” He hugged his papa, adjusted his kurta one final time and ran to his mamma who gave him some more hugs, kisses and did her thu thu thu right along with her blessings and prayers for his long, healthy, happy life.
Abhimanyu who had knocked softly on the open door and stepped into the house stood transfixed watching the mom and son. Abhir’s face lit up when his mamma presented him with a plate full of laddoos. He grabbed two and bit into one.
“Arre beta, aaram se,” Akshara urged, lifting her hand to adjust her son’s hair.
“Mamma, baal nahi! Baal nahi!” He jumped back, touching his hair, making sure it was not disturbed.
Abhimanyu’s chuckle was watery as images of himself backing away in the exact same way, touching and adjusting his hair in the exact same way flashed before him. He cleared his throat and schooled his face. “Happy birthday, Junior!”
Abhir’s round face lit up like a bulb. “Docman!” he ran and threw himself into Abhimanyu’s arms who picked him up and hugged him tight, squeezing his eyes shut, absorbing the feel of his son in his arms. He went down on his knees and gently pulled Abhir a little away from him so that he could look at him. So that he could look at his son. Yes. Abhir did have his eyes but that innocent smile and that childish delight was all Akshara’s. Abhir’s hair too looked softer than his own but he had a feeling it would turn out to be like his own as he grew up. It had been the same with him if he recalled correctly.
“Aise kya dekhrahe ho Docman?” Abhir asked innocently with his head tilted to the side.
Abhimanyu tried to laugh but he could only manage an awkward grin. “Kuch nahi. Today is your birthday na. So just checking to see how big you’ve grown.” He tilted his own head to the side, mimicking Abhir. “And yes, you have grown taller than yesterday for sure.”
Abhir’s eyes went rounder with delight. “Sachhi?”
“Muchhi!”
Akshara after darting exchanging a quick look with Abhinav watched the two of them. Did he really not connect the dots? It’s Abhir’s birthday and he didn’t think or ask how old is he? Is he really that dense or is his belief that she hopped from his bed to another man’s that strong that it has clouded his usually sharp mind? Ever since the first time she’d seen the interaction between the two, she had noticed the almost tangible bond her son shared with his biological father. Does Abhimanyu really not sense it? Not see it?
Abhimanyu kissed Abhir’s cheek and got up. “Hello Sharma ji!”
“Kaise ho bhai ji?” Abhinav asked with his usual affection. “Aayiye, baitiye.”
Abhimanyu looked at Akshara. “Hi!” he smiled, and she smiled back hesitantly with her own, “Hi!”
Abhimanyu noticed Abhir darting eager, curious glances at the gift-wrapped rectangular box that he’d dropped when he’d hugged Abhir. With a grin, he picked it up and extended it to Abhir. “Here you go, Junior! Happy birthday once again!”
“Thank you!” Abhir fairly snatched the box out of Abhimanyu’s hands and tore off the wrapper. Inside the box were two shirts. One was a dark blue one. The white print on it read – I love my papa! Second one was a yellow, blue football jersey shirt. The back of it had the name – Junior Sharma – printed on it.
“Arre waah, Nicki ji, kya kamaal ke shirts hain, haina?”
Abhir was beside himself with joy. He grabbed the football shirt first. “Mamma, I want to wear this now. Please mamma!”
Akshara smiled indulgently and helped him change into the football shirt. Abhimanyu chuckled as he watched his son try to look at his name that was on his back. He gently turned him around, clicked a picture through his phone and showed it to him. “I love it, Docman! I’ll wear it to school and show off to all my friends.”
Akshara shook her head in exasperation and began packing the school bag, adding a pack of chocolates to it for Abhir to share with his friends. Abhir walked up to Abhimanyu and touched his knee. “Aaj mera birthday hain. Mein aapse kuch maangu toh aap doge?”
“Abhir!” Akshara protested. But she bit back her words as she noticed the sad smile and the love brimming from Abhimanyu’s eyes.
“Aap maang ke toh dekho, Junior!”
“Aap Shiv ji ko maante ho na. Mein bhi maanta hoon. Mujhe bhi aisa wala chahiye.” He pointed to the rudraksh that Abhimanyu was wearing. “My teacher said rudraksh is Shiv ji’s blessing.”
It took all of Abhimanyu’s self-control and strength not to grab the little one to himself, smother his face with kisses and place his chain around his son’s neck. The internal battle resulted in hands that trembled slightly as they cupped Abhir’s cheeks. “Definitely. B-but I…uh, I don’t think you’re allowed to wear jewellery to school. Haina?” He latched onto the first excuse that popped into his head. “So I’ll get you one that you can wear at all times. OK?” Abhir nodded happily.
Clearing his throat for probably the fiftieth time since that morning, Abhimanyu stood up. “Now I’ll make a move.”
“But you won’t drop me at school today?”
“Your papa is here na. Go with him. You can show him the new shortcut we found. I have some work I need to do.” Like buying the rudraksh for his son. “We’ll meet again tomorrow. OK?”
“OK!”
****
Akshara sat on the thick blanket and watched Abhimanyu and Abhir play football on the grass, a little away from her. It was a Sunday and her son had been bored. So when Abhimanyu had offered to take them both on a small picnic, she couldn’t say no. It had been close to a month since Abhir’s birthday, and she had to accept that she and Abhimanyu had become friends of sorts. They could never be buddies, she realized with a rueful smile. They were too aware of each other. Too effected by each other’s proximity that they could never friend-zone each other. But as if by mutual agreement, they ignored that aspect and focused on being neutral friends. He helped her out when she was busy with some case by engaging Abhir. One day he took the kid on a hospital tour, complete with surgical scrubs and cap of Abhir’s size. Abhir had been over the moon that day, even going as far as sleeping that night with those scrubs on. And once both of them had gone to a movie. When he saw her struggling to commute to the court, law firm and her house, he found a guy who had been looking to sell his two-wheeler. The price had been affordable to Akshara since it was a second-hand vehicle, so she’d given in and said yes. The next couple of days, Abhir and Abhimanyu spent in taking the two-wheeler apart, cleaning, servicing it and putting it back together again. She would forever remember the two of them, their hands and faces streaked with grease, heads close together, looking at the nuts and bolts, passing on instructions and ordering each other about, all in all, turning a one-hour job into a half a day of laughter-filled one. They’d waved and clicked pictures the first time she took it out for a spin and later he’d clicked pictures of her and Abhir on the bike.
“Phew! Does he ever get tired?” Abhimanyu asked panting, plopping down on the blanket, stretching out.
Akshara smiled. “Why do you think I asked if you’re sure when you suggested bringing the football along?”
“How was he as a baby?” he asked after a long pause that he spent gazing at the sky.
Akshara glanced at Abhir to make sure he was still in the vicinity and not up to any mischief. “He was…very quiet. Never cried much. And maybe because he was so chubby, it took longer for him to roll over.” She smiled at those fond memories. “He used to turn sideways, try, try, and plop fall back.” Abhimanyu listened with his eyes closed, absorbing, picturing little Abhir. “But he was so stubborn! Still is,” she added. “He never gave up. If he was not drinking his milk or sleeping, he was trying to roll over. And once he got that, he started all over again with crawling.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Abhir asked as he ran towards them and settled in the middle, the small rudraksh pendant that he now never removed, dangling from his neck. True to his word, Abhimanyu had gotten him a similar one, a little smaller in size and the chain had been made of copper.
Abhimanyu sat up with a small grunt and took out his phone. “Let me show you something.” Abhir crawled into Abhimanyu’s lap to watch the video. Akshara, from her place, couldn’t see but her frown turned into one of comprehension as she heard the song that went along with the video.
Beautify totally, khushiyon ki bottali Ramji ne bhejdi hain ghar…
pyaar se bulaane ko cake pe likhane ko naam toh rakhna hain par…
“Yeh baby kaun hain?” Abhir asked looking at the cute, chubby baby.
Abhimanyu’s tender gaze shifted to Akshara whose lashes fluttered as her eyes slid away from him. “Yeh aap ki mamma hain. Aapke nana ji ke paas yeh video tha. Tho socha aapko dikhau toh meine copy karliya.”
Abhir watched the whole video chuckling and laughing in between. “Mamma, everyone thought so much about your name na. Phir aapke mamma ne aapka naam Akshara rakha! How long did you think to come up with my name?”
Akshara’s smile was tender and full of love as she gazed at her son. “Sochna hi nahi pada. You have your father in you. I wanted you to have his name also in yours.”
The words hit Abhimanyu like a sucker punch. His face flushed and his eyes turned wild as he fought to suppress his desire to take her in his arms and carry her away. To make her repeat those words as she looked into his eyes. To taste those words on her lips. To claim her heart and mark her body as his. Only his. Forever his. To swear that he’d be her slave forever if only she gave him just one more chance. One chance.
“OK! Enough playing around,” he inserted forcefully, jumping up and standing. “There’s still light so let’s go see Christ Church and there’s a street food place close to that. A couple of my colleagues said it’s awesome. Let’s go! Let’s go!” He hustled them before he gave in to the temptation and desire eating his insides.
****
Akshara checked the Google map once again to make sure she reached the correct address. The last couple of days Abhimanyu hadn’t come to pick up Abhir because he’d been down with viral. He had messaged her and did a videocall with his Junior to explain. Today she’d messaged him enquiring how he was doing and when there’d been no reply, she pulled up the address he’d shared with Abhinav some time back and drove down on her bike after dropping Abhir at school. She’d check on him once, make sure he’s OK and go to the court from here directly, she decided, adjusting her backpack and climbing up the small flight of stairs that led to the classy portico of the single-storied bungalow. It was nowhere close to the Birla Mansion but stylish even in its simplicity, she thought, gazing at the small lawn on the front and the large bay windows that faced the front of the house. She rang the bell and waited.
Her cordial smile of greeting quickly turned into a frown of concern the door opened and she saw him standing there with exhausted, shrunken face and body covered in what looked like at least two sweaters. Her fingers felt for his forehead instinctively. “You still have fever!” she stated, gently leading him inside to the large sofa and helping him settle down.
His drowsy eyes drank in her presence greedily. His body was weak with fever, and it brought his mental guard also down. “Akshu-Akshara!” he corrected himself immediately.
She perched on the ottoman that was beside the sofa. “Did you take any medication?”
He nodded tiredly. “It’s just a viral. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Junior kaisa hain?”
“He is fine. Missing his Docman.”
“I’ll videocall him today evening.”
She looked around. “Have you had something to eat?”
“The cook made something; I think. I haven’t checked yet.”
After a slight internal debate, she dugout a small casserole from her backpack. “I brought some khichdi for you,” she said, placing it on the side table. Her gaze met his, slid away and as if unable to stay away, came back to his again. Lying there like that, eyes devouring her, he looked like her Abhi from all those years ago. But he looked different too. Her Abhi had never seemed so open or vulnerable. This Abhimanyu had a tentativeness that had never been a part of her Abhi. Sudden bout of uncertainty had her springing up from the ottoman. “I-I’ll leave now. Take rest Abhimanyu. Get well soon,” she inserted softly.
“Akshara!” For the first time after a long time, he held her hand by her wrist, preventing her from fleeing. “Ek minute please, baito!” he rasped tiredly. She obliged after a slight hesitation. “I’ve been meaning to say this to you for a long time now but either I didn’t get the chance or the opportunity. I’m genuinely very happy that you’re now a lawyer. That you’re moving ahead with this career. But…your voice is a part of you. Part of your identity. Usko aise mat chodo, Akshara. It’s not fair. You’ve lost enough. Don’t throw away your voice like this. Please!”
Akshara remained silent for so long that he almost gave up. “I…I didn’t deliberately throw it away. It just…I lost it, Abhimanyu.” The eyes that met his were resigned. “I lost a lot of things that day and this seems to be…”
“No!” he cut in. “This is not one of them. You didn’t lose this. You have it with you. I know you do. Dekho, after…after everything, I lost my faith in Mahadev too. But he never left me. He was right here,” he brought her hand and held it against his chest. Where his heart bet. “And your voice, your music is right here with you, Akshara.” He placed a tentative palm on her chest…feeling the thundering beat of her heart that seemed to be in perfect sync with his own. “Sing!” his rough voice ordered. Implored. “Sing!” he repeated as he watched her inner battle projected in her eyes.
And held her hand in his, caging it between his chest and his palm, waiting.
Naam gum jaayegaa… Chehara ye badal jayegaa
Meri aawaaz hi pahachaan hai… Gar yaad rahe
His breath shuddered out as he fell back on the pillow and closed his eyes. His whole being coming alive like someone was pouring the very essence of life into it. He didn’t leave her hand. She made no effort to pull it away.
Waqt ke sitam kam hasi nahi… Aaj hai yahaan kal kahi nahi
Waqt se bhare agar mil gaye kahi
Meri aawaaz hi pahachaan hai… Gar yaad rahe
****
PART 5(2) - SCROLL DOWN
Sports
Kaise Mujhe Tum Mil Gaye
Cricket
Seher Hone Ko Hai
