Between the shadow and the soul.
"I love you as certain dark things are to be
loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul."
Pablo
Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets
Title inspired by the above quote.
Warning - Though this is purely my imagination and is mostly spoiler free - this OS does have a hint or two about the week that's up ahead.
People who wish to remain spoiler free be warned.
Author' note : My mind is overtaken by IshRa - so forgive me the rampage of OS's and SS's coming your way. 😳
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She is radiant tonight.
He notices.
His eyes follow her wherever she goes. All her moments traced by him. Each smile, each laughter, every word uttered by her. Nothing escapes his attention.
Dressed in a traditional white sari with a huge golden border - the standard attire Tamilians opt on special occasions, she is a sight for sore eyes.
She is mingling with everyone assembled in the crowd. The society' premises are lit up to celebrate Baisakhi, as is the custom but this year, the Punjabis have company - their Baisakhi coincides with the Tamil New Year - Puthandu. Hence, all the more cause for a celebration. The Iyers may have not been easily accepted and blended in an area predominated by the Punjabis - but now they have made their place. Found their foothold and are considered as just one of them. They are still the Madrasis, the newbies but now not aliens among these people anymore.
Ishita keeps on fleeting from one place to another. One moment summoned by her mother-in-law, for something and the next by her mother for another. There are the occasional moments when Ruhi and Shravan need her attention. Either to ask for a sweet, or to get them to stop fighting with one another.
The fellow members of the society too, stop her here and then. Someone congratulates her for the way she handled the entire situation of Pooja' emergency delivery. While someone compliments her on the way, she looks tonight.
Beautiful. The word would not suffice. However, it is the best that can sum up the way she looks tonight.
The white sari compliments her peaches and cream complexion. The cut of her blouse enhances those lovely collarbones and the delicate pearl necklace adorned by her highlights the long, graceful line of her neck. Her wrists look lovely decked with the delicate bangles of gold and white. There is some sort of ornament she has worn even in the long, dark braid of her hair with the gajra, that glitters and catches the reflection of the light with each of her movements, oscillating much like a pendulum.
Her simplicity makes her look divine and resplendent at the same time. Tempting and sacred all at once.
Only someone paying as close an attention to her as he is would notice the oddity of her movements. The recurring bout of sickness that makes her stops every few moments. Makes her close her eyes, place a hand on her neck- take a few deep breaths. Then as if, nothing were wrong with her, move on to the next person, the next thing on the list that needs her attention.
She has been keeping sick all day long somehow. He knows that. Has seen her throwing up most of it at random intervals.
She had assured everyone she would be fine, had taken some sort of medication for it too. However, that does not seem to be working. She may have recovered enough to be able to partake in the celebrations, but she still is sick from whatever it is that has ailed her.
She does not let on how much effort it takes her to keep on this cheerful, happy front.
Only if one were to observe her, without her knowledge, as he is doing now, would it be possible to know this.
It astounds him how much she is exerting herself for everyone around her, without complaining to anyone. She follows what her mother-in-law as she guides her through the Punjabi rituals, absorbs the words, understands what is being asked of her, asks questions when something confuses her, and abides all that is asked of her. She helps her own mother, with their traditions. Meets her sister and Jija, who have dropped by to greet their family.
She, he muses, is an extraordinary woman, and the though somehow brings a smile to his face and warms his heart.
Without even trying to be, she is the center of attention in the celebrations. That is a feat by itself.
However, unlike some women who would enjoy the attention, milk it for all its worth, she pays it no heed. She does not even realize how everyone is seeking her out. As if her presence somehow illuminates them, their being, the moment they so much as stand beside her.
The kids specially love her. They have her surrounded at some point or another always he notices. What an irony it is, such a cruel joke fate has played on her - a woman who loves kids so much, who is as loved by the kids, if not more - herself is barren. Devoid of the joy of ever experiencing the miracle of motherhood in all its glory. Only because she cannot conceive a child of her own.
Sometimes fate hands out the roughest cards to the people who least deserve it, he thinks.
No one, no one can look at her with Ruhi and think she is the girl' stepmother.
She is certainly pretty, he has noticed that always, but it is her smile, which makes her look irresistible. The way it lights up her face, makes her glow from within is something that cannot be put into words. One can only understand by experience. But when the smile reaches her eyes, crinkles them around the corners, have her expose those pearly whites in a hearty laugh - its heart stopping. That is what it is.
She is unaware of the effect she can have on people.
And that is what scares him.
She does not realize what she is capable off, nor does she understand the intentions of the people around her.
Which is why he is here - watching her. Always following each and every move, she makes. Taking note of the slightest gesture, the minutest detail.
He has been doing so all night now.
He would not do this. Not normally, watch her so blatantly. But he has to now. There is no other way.
Yes he has heard the whispers and the laughter, seen the people point at him. Comment how he looks smitten with the way his wife looks tonight. There have been one or two comments about how it might turn out to be a sleepless night for the newly married pair, given the way he doesn't take his eyes off of her. Especially with the look that he has.
Any other time, he would have given those people a piece of his mind, shut their mouths up for good. But tonight, he does not care, not the slightest, though this very fact should disturb him, it does not. Rather he is somewhat pleased if people were to mention her name with only him.
He would not have it any other way, certainly not have her name whispered and spoken because of the reason he has to keep watch over her tonight.
He cannot bear for it to happen to her, his family or her parents.
It's an inkling he has, that has him playing her guard tonight, unbeknownst even to her. Though he suspect no one knows of it yet, and hopes it to be so. For if the word were to be out on the reason of his scrutiny it would be the cause of immense shame and humiliation to everyone around him in his family.
It all started with his return from the riots.
He had taken note of her then, looking exhausted and sweaty, covered in grime and blood; having delivered Pooja' baby. While everyone around her was surrounding Pooja and the baby, only two people were paying attention to her and all her movements - the first one was he, the second his brother-in-law Parmeet. And something about the way Parmeet kept on staring at his wife did not bode well with him.
The look he witnessed in his brother-in-law' eyes when he was busy staring at Ishita, somehow made him sick to his stomach.
It would have not registered with him, this one-off incident that he had brushed off as an illusion of his exhausted mind, had he not caught Parmeet in the act this very morning for the second time.
What he noticed last night was not a mistake anymore in his mind. Rather it was something, real and incredibly sick and serious that was taking root in his home, a disease that could plague his family.
It was when Ishita had came out after changing post bath with a towel wrapped over her head getting Ruhi her favorite idlis, that she insisted on having for breakfast.
Her face was devoid of any makeup whatsoever and yet she had looked fresh and lovely. Her skin pinkened from the hot bath. She had casually unknotted her towel and was drying her hair with it, gently running her hands through the wet strands when her mother came. As the duo conversed, drops of water continued trickling down her nape and over her shoulders, the back of her blouse got a bit wet too and clung tightly to her skin.
It was amidst this that he had stepped out of his own bath, wrapped in a towel to attend a phone call that Tondon had made to discuss Mihir' upcoming engagement with Trisha, did he notice Parmeet lounging on the sofa. Holding a newspaper that would make it seem like he is lost in reading it, for anyone who looked his way, but hiding behind the cover the paper provided, he was noticing Ishita, following the slowly cascading drops rolling down her back and the movement of her hands in her hair, which provided an enticing view of the play of the muscles on her back.
It had come down on him like a ton of bricks - the anger he had felt as well as the repulsion, the moment he saw Parmeet.
He had immediately called Ishita and asked her to get a suit ready for him to wear today to make her leave the room immediately. He had wanted to punch the creep in the face so very badly at the moment, would have too if Simi hadn't called out her husband the next moment which dawned upon him, the repercussions his callous and reckless actions might lead to.
No he cannot simply do that, hit his sister' husband for an act of lechery based on an assumption he cannot yet validate. Cannot commit an act he cannot justify later to even his own family, let alone anyone else.
So angry was he that he chose not to have his breakfast, with that leech right in front of them. He even made Ishita skip her breakfast by telling her he has to reach office early today and since her car needs repairing because of the damage it bore in the riots he can drop her off only now. Since she had asked fora lift from him early on, she was trapped by his words.
Later he had called up a restaurant near her clinic that he had frequented and sent her a hot plate of upma for breakfast. Since the owner knew him well enough it was no problem to request him to not ask Ishita for a payment, he could add it to his tab for the while, and on his next visit add it to his bill. Though he himself chose to not have anything. His appetite gone for a toss because of the foul mood he was in due to Parmeet.
He has to be absolutely sure of Parmeet' intentions in order to do anything about them. He has to keep a watch over Ishita.
The moment had left him as much seething in anger as it had torn him apart reminding him of times past. Memories buried but not forgotten. Of another man, eyeing his wife in much the same manner - another woman at the time.
He cannot block the barrage of those memories that overtake his mind. How he had stood silent in the face of all those acts he witnessed. History is repeating itself and he, he is again in much the same position he found himself earlier. Life coming a full circle.
The only difference this time would be of the players and their actions involved.
Then he had stood silent in the face of things until it was too late for him to do anything about it. Let another man walk out with his wife while he stood pleading and begging with her. Asked her not do this to him, their marriage, and their children.
This time he will not be a silent witness. He can vouch for that.
As much as he can surely say based on his gut instincts, that the woman involved will not do the same.
Shagun had indulged Ashok' attentions, practically had given him free rein with regards to his actions. He still remembers that Holi when Shagun would not so much as let him come near her but when Ashok came, she had let him rub colors all over her face and played with him regardless of her husband looking on.
Ishita is unlike her. She is not basking in the attention of another man. If anything, she looks unaware at best of those eyes that keep following her.
And that has him frightened for her more than anything does.
This instinct, the one that makes him want to protect her is not exactly new he realizes. It has only intensified post last night. First by the threat to her mortality and then the danger to her security and honor, inside his own home.
It had first reared itself the night the sudden showers had caught them unawares. He had ended up following her somehow, though that had been the last thing on his mind then, but he had done it nonetheless. Based on a hunch, the instincts that made him feel uneasy about the prospect of her alone at night on the streets of Delhi. Despite the fact that he started hating women in general post Shagun, he can never forget he has two sisters and he simply would not allow anyone to hurt a hair on their heads - as he cannot allow any man to behave like a beast with even an unknown woman.
And Ishita was far from unknown to him at the time. Sure they still don't exactly see eye to eye even now, as was the case then but it didn't mean he would or could leave her alone on Delhi' streets at night. Not post the horrific event that happened in his city and shook the entire world by its brutality.
He had been right to do so that night he remembers. Those bloody men had chased her down the street, he does not even want to think of what could have happened to her had he abandoned her then. He absolutely wont and cannot let anything happen to her that was a given even back then, and now, now it is an absolute certainty.
She is his wife now.
The woman he swore to protect in his vows. And if the vow deems he protect her from someone within the confines of his home so be it. Their disagreements and fights be damned.
And so here he is playing watchdog and if the world at large takes this as him playing Romeo so be it.
He cannot allow anything to happen to her nor can he rest till his doubt exists.
He cannot even share this with anyone, not yet. Not even Ishita he concludes. He cannot do that to her - spook her in a place she thinks is her home.
He also wonders if she is indeed as ignorant of this threat too as he perceives her to be.
What if she knows of this, as clearly as he does or just has a doubt regarding the same too.
It makes him sick to think that it may be possible. That Ishita has known or doubted Parmeet' dubious intentions regarding her and has not spoken up.
He knows if that is the case, it is not because she is emulating Shagun or following in her footsteps.
He uncomfortably realizes it is because Ishita may be too scared to do anything about it. She may not have any idea of how to deal with this kind of perversion within her family without it creating any chaos.
She may be too lost to disclose about her problem to anyone. Confused enough to not understand whom can she entrust her confidences too. Confide in.
Even him, her husband.
And he cannot blame her for that. Not at all.
Not only is this home, this family still new to her, this though they were neighbors and well acquainted with each other prior to their marriage. But they did not have the greatest of beginnings.
They are married now, but they are still so relatively unknown to each other.
Any woman in her shoes would be lost too, he realizes.
The onus of a relationship is not alone for one person. She has done a lot for him - beginning with marrying him in the first place and later on clearing his doubts about Ruhi' paternity to recently saving his business a colossal loss.
This is the least he can do for her. Protect her.
It is then that he notices that she does not realize it, that the dori she tied at the back of her blouse has unknotted. With the fitting the dori provided loosened, the sleeve on her left shoulder has slipped slightly providing a clear glimpse of the white strip of her bra.
And it immediately makes him look at Parmeet who is standing at a distance looking at the exact same thing - with a smirk, his eyes round and huge, his intentions as plain as could be all over his face. And the man absolutely disgusts him, if they were alone he would have forgotten all protocol and civilities. Even their relationship especially that he thinks.
But they are not alone. The whole goddamned society is there to celebrate and he cannot create a scene here.
So instead of marching over to Parmeet and beating him black and blue, he does the first thing he thinks is necessary.
He yells and calls out to Ishita. She turns around and looks at him, wondering what made him call her all of a sudden. But he cannot do anything else. He cannot just walk in and tie the knot in front of so many people.
It would be embarrassing for them.
So instead, when she looks at him, he lifts a hand and gestures her to come to him. She is clearly puzzled about him behaving so erratically but complies anyway. She says something to Ruhi and walks towards him.
When he makes a move to walk towards a slightly dark and abandoned corner towards his left, she stops midway but on catching his eye, changes her course as well.
As soon as she is face to face with him, he does the first thing that comes to his mind without a second' thought.
He takes hold of her arm and suddenly pulls them in an alcove hidden in shadows in a corner of the building far away from the crowds and celebrations.
In the dark she finds her back suddenly colliding with a wall and lets out a hiss,
"Raman..."
And before she has a chance to utter another word, he puts a finger on her lips to hush her.
Her eyes widen at his move and the shock of the touch quiets her.
He was not thinking much when he did this; he only had thought of tying the dori of her blouse immediately. But now that they are here, in the dark with this proximity between them he finds himself befuddled.
He is forgetting the motive of his actions and becoming more and more aware of their position. His heartbeat drumming in his ears. His pulse rapid. His eyes locked on hers. And his finger still on her lips - soft and warm at the same time.
They continue to stand that way for a few moments until her presence of mind kicks in and she makes a move to push him away.
This time again he lets out a quiet shh, the difference being - he puts his finger to his own lips.
And she is completely baffled as to what is he doing.
Slowly, then so slowly that he notices the tremble of his hands he puts his arms around her shoulders and takes hold of the dori on both the ends.
A shudder runs down her spine at his touch, as does the awareness of his motive come to light.
He looks at her even as his hands continue their moments and tie the knot. While she looks anywhere but at him.
As soon as he knots the dori, they exhale a sigh of relief - together - that is lost on neither of them.
His hands rest on her shoulders as she continues looking down.
Slowly and gently as he slides his hands down hers, the touch sets them on fire. The moment his hands are off of her, he immediately finds himself missing her, her touch. Even when she is standing with a few inches between them at best.
When she finally does look up at him, she notices the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
With no appropriate response coming to her mind, she says the first words deems fitting in a soft whisper,
"Thank you."
Had he been capable of speech he would have said something but for the moment, he merely nodded his head and allowed her to move from the spot by stepping back.
And so as she pulled away and walked back to the crowd, he trailed behind her.
Watching her and trying to get his erratic heartbeat under control.
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